Compromise and Conceit

Having destroyed Argalt’s raiders in the fens near Miselea, Hugo Tuya’s guards were now ready to return to their main journey. They would travel to Ell’s Hamlet to rest and investigate the raiders’ purpose, then they would travel on to Estala where they hoped to receive payment for the first third of their services, and take a few days to rest and enjoy life off the road. The roster for today’s session:

• Bao Tap, human stormcaller
• Calim “Ambros” Nefari, human rimewarden
• Itzel, elven astrologer
• Kyansei of the Eilika Tribe, wildling barbarian
• Quangbae, wandering blacksmith
• Yoog, changeling scoundrel

Ell’s Hamlet

After their successful battle at the waterfall they rested only briefly before returning to a worried-looking Hugo Tuya on the road to Ell’s Hamlet. The journey from there was short, passing through the same complex of low hillocks and slightly marshy hollows that they had passed through the previous day, and where Rimgalt and his raiders now lay rotting. Towards late afternoon they reached Ell’s Hamlet, easily in time to clean up before the evening meal. Ell’s Hamlet was a small and secure village of only a few score buildings, set inside a combined stone wall and wooden palisade atop an ancient earthworks. The entrance road passed through a small complex of raised mounds, on which stood empty wooden archers’ nests, and passed through a wooden gatehouse in one of the few gaps in the earthworks’ lower barrier wall. From there they passed through a switchback road up to a higher level, overlooked by a smaller internal palisade, before entering the small village area itself.

Ell’s Hamlet had a single small hostelry called the Ell, right at the centre of the town, which was the primary purpose of its existence. Behind the Ell was a small barracks, and spreading out from this central square the various homes and warehouses of the local farmers. From the outer palisade of the earthworks they could look out over a mixture of good farming land broken up by small, bare hillocks and water-logged hollows. To the northwest the low peaks of the southern end of the Spine mountains vaulted into the sky, looming over the landscape like distant shadows; to the east the land stretched out in a rough and wrinkled patchwork of grey and light green and browns until it merged with the distant, darker swathe of the great forest. Everything was cool and peaceful, though a new storm threatened to gather over the sea far to the east, and they all knew that to the southwest lay the broken corpses of a squad of raiders. Looking back on their journey thus far, they thought this peaceful landscape held many secrets, and a great deal of danger and dark magic was buried beneath its bucolic scenery.

And so they set about plumbing the depths of those secrets. Rimgalt and his raiders had been sent to the Hamlet to find a man called Regald and bring back any documents he possessed, and any necklaces. Their scouts had entered the Hamlet and learnt that Regald died a year ago and his daughter had left town, so were returning to Rimgalt to tell him and find out what to do next when they saw Tuya’s caravan and made the mistake of assuming it would be easy pickings. Hugo Tuya’s guards suspected that Regald was the owner of the necklace they held, and that his daughter who left the town had died in the woods north of Ebara with her elven lover. They wanted to find out for certain, and word of valuable documents in his possession drew their attention like moths to a flame. So they sent Yoog through the town, in her generic human form, to ask questions and find out what the story was with Regald. After some time and painful conversation at a coffee shop Yoog returned to tell them that Regald had died of a heart attack and his daughter had left his house only a little later, apparently on a quick journey – she had not prepared the house for a long time away, neither preparing it for winter nor sealing the storm shutters nor putting up protection against wasp nests, and all her neighbours were angry at her when she did not return promptly. Following Yoog’s information, they set off for the house.

Regald’s History

They found the house quickly and after some confusion and unsubtle approaches were able to break in and start exploring. It had only three rooms: a large, comfortable kitchen and eating area, a messy and cluttered study and a small loft bedroom above the eating area, set off from the main room by a curtain. The study was obviously Regald’s comfortable room, and clearly undisturbed for a long time. They explored it thoroughly, finding tools and weapons suitable for the study of a retired adventurer. In amongst this general clutter they found:

• A partial map of the Middlemarch, with a single cross marked on it
• A set of books describing the towns and geography of the west coast of Hadun, referred to generally as Azale’s Almanac, which is generally considered accurate and useful
• A folio of sketches labeled “The Gull’s sketches” which contain pictures of a changeling, a human astrologer, a human explorer, and a human warrior, with probably a dwarven stormcaller they guessed was “The Gull”, because these pictures seemed more like self-portraits
• A letter, two years old, addressed to Regald and left opened and read beneath the folio

The letter suggested that this Regald had been sent some important documents and had never translated them. But even more, they realized that the man Verbere whose widow they had robbed in Ibara was also a member of the same group as Regald: both had been written letters by Siladan the Elder, and their lives had come to bitter ends soon after.

The room above the living area was a young woman’s bedroom, in a state of genteel disorder as of a slightly messy girl preparing for a short journey. In her small desk they found a small bundle of letters written in very simple elvish from a man called Haltzel, which Itzel translated with some scorn at the way he simplified elvish grammar for a human reader. These letters confirmed their suspicions: that this girl, whose name was Azagald, had been the lover of the elven man Haltzel, and it was their remains (and her reanimated corpse) that they had found in the woods north of Ibara. The last letter from Haltzel suggested Azgald had taken Regald’s documents to him to be translated. Presumably they had met in the woods north of Ibara for a tryst and to exchange the documents, and there they had been set upon by deepfolk and cruelly murdered, with Azgald’s body left reanimated as a trap for any elves that came looking for Haltzel’s ruins. Hugo Tuya’s guards assumed also that the deepfolk had stolen the elvish documents.

Why were those documents so important? Regald and Verbere’s group had taken them from a deepfolk lair and then left them unopened for years; Siladan had found them when cleaning his study and sent them to Regald for help translating, but Regald had died of a heart attack before he could read them; after his death they guessed his daughter Azgald had been cleaning his room and found the note and documents, seized the chance to visit her lover Haltzel, and been ambushed and murdered by deepfolk north of Ibara. Had those deepfolk known she was carrying elven documents stolen from deepfolk? Why would deepfolk care about elven documents? The story confounded them. Furthermore, in the year since he sent this letter to Regald, Siladan had translated some of the work of this Aveld the Foul, learnt of buried iron, and told his old comrade Verbere about it – but Verbere had been ambushed and died on the way to the location of the iron. Was Siladan organizing the death of his former adventuring colleagues? Was the whole group cursed? Or was it just poor luck? They all agreed that they must find him in Estona and learn the truth about his past and his actions.

With that, unable to learn anything else, they left the house and Regald and Azgald’s secrets, and returned to their hostelry.

Smoke in the mountains

They set off for Estala the next morning, eager for rest and payment. From Estala they would cross the mountains through the pass known as the Middlemarch, which was supposedly safe, and arrive in the western side of Hadun before the end of storm season, from there to travel comfortably down to Estona along its eponymous river. Before the trials of the mountain crossing they would take a few days to re-equip, to rest, to make offerings, and to discuss their next plans. They made good time on the road to Estala, spurred on by the storm behind them and the promise of a good bath ahead. Towards late afternoon, however, as they crested the first of the foothills of the Spine mountains and Estala hoved into view, they realized that their plans had been confounded. Estala had been raided.

Estala lies in the bend of a river, its southern flanks protected by this deep and fast-flowing river and its northern side guarded by a stone wall that stretches from the eastern to the western edge of this large curve in the river. All of Estala is nestled inside the twin barriers of wall and water, with the northern gate of the town looking out from the walls at the looming mountains, while the southern entrance is possible only through four fortified bridges that are all separated from the mountain side by the river itself. Within this oxbow and its northern face, the town is said to be secure. Yet here they could see multiple smouldering fires, and when Quangbae used his telescope he could clearly see that the northern gate had been smashed in. The fires now smouldered, likely lit in a raid the night before and damped down during the day. He could see frantic activity in the town, as people repaired the damaged gates and attempted to make the town safe before nightfall. Hugo Tuya became very agitated at this report, and urged them into the town; convinced by Quangbae’s reconnaissance that it was safe, they headed down the hill to the river’s edge and the dawn bridge, from which they would enter the town’s south eastern suburbs.

They entered a town in quiet uproar, but did not disturb its busy residents until they had safely ensconced themselves in a hostelry near the north gate. There they learnt the horrible truth: the town had been raided the night before by deepfolk, who had overcome its defenses and broken through its northern gate, then despoiled the town itself for a few hours while the town’s defenders organized themselves. Before a solid counter attack could be mounted they had withdrawn, taking with them 10 hostages and leaving behind 10 dead citizens and 14 dead soldiers from the local levy. They had broken through the defenses using batriders, who had come over the walls in silence in the depths of night and taken the gatehouse by force before the guards knew of their presence; with the gate then open, the rest of the deepfolk force had been able to enter the town and do much damage before the remaining troops of the levy could be alerted and coordinated.

A terrible circumstance indeed but nothing they felt would affect them personally, until Hugo Tuya called them together within the hour and confessed to them the horrible truth: Hugo Tuya had no money, and had been expecting to call in a debt from his brother when they arrived in Estala. Unfortunately, his brother was one of the 10 hostages, the money Hugo Tuya had been hoping to take from his brother was buried somewhere, and if his brother died he would never get it, which would mean his guards would go unpaid, and his journey to Estona would end in penury here in Estala.

Itzel asked about the money he had made on the journey here – the reward for defeating bandits, payment for killing spiders, and so forth. He confessed that he was seriously in debt in both Miselea and Inorat, which was why he was journeying to Estona to sell iron in the first place, and when he had arrived in Miselea he had used the extra money he made from the guards’ valiant efforts to pay some of the principal on his debts in Miselea, thus buying time to pay the rest. So he had no money. The last of his coin had been spent on their hostelry in Estala, and if they did not find money soon his journey was over. So it was that they would have to rescue his brother.

The town’s chieftain and its Myrmidon were heading to negotiation with the deepfolk in an hour, Hugo Tuya had talked his way into their entourage as a concerned family member, and the guards were to go with him to see how the negotiations proceeded. Hugo Tuya was concerned that the chieftain would refuse to negotiate, out of some misguided principle, and his brother would die. If so, he wanted his guards to rescue his brother – or at least to find out where the money was buried.

In truth Hugo Tuya seemed more concerned about the money than his brother, but then so were his guards. They agreed to his request, on the condition that their contract be significantly rewritten in their favour, and so an hour later they found themselves heading out to meet the deepfolk.

The Skydeath Clan

The town chieftain was a petulant, poorly-mannered and skittish man called Amygdal, sitting atop a fine horse and speaking to his underlings with haughty arrogance that barely concealed his obvious figure. He was thin, middle-aged, with a weak jaw and a brooding, aggrieved manner. The Myrmidon Amestra, leader of the levy, was a slightly overweight woman of similar age, dressed in chainmail and carrying a real steel sword. She also rode on a powerful horse, but with obvious comfort and familiarity. Behind them 20 of the remaining troops of the levy were gathered, looking nervous but determined. Amygdal ignored Hugo Tuya’s guards, but Amestra welcomed them into the group and rode alongside them as they headed north into the rapidly darkening hills. As they walked Amestra told them that the deepfolk would likely demand food and glass in return for the hostages, with the intention of making the townsfolk’s winter tough, and would probably not free all the prisoners unless a very good price was offered. Her relationship with her chieftain was obviously strained, but she was familiar enough with the burdens of leadership not to show it too much to her soldiers.

They found the deepfolk band after an hour of careful walking, as the sun sank below the mountains and the evening light faded to grey. One of the hostages had been impaled on a stake on a slight rise, and as their group gathered around it Amestra told them to take up positions; sure enough within a minute the deepfolk emerged from the darkness under the trees ahead of them, a horde of misshapen and vicious-looking miscreants led by a huge and violent-looking white-skinned orc. Amongst the horde they saw many Griggs, scrawny alabaster-skinned nightstalkers infamous for their perfect darkvision and magical skills. There were no other orcs, but a phalanx of goblins, grey-skinned monsters the size of humans, carrying scrap spears and sneering and yelling incomprehensible abuse at the humans from behind their shields. Behind the orc captain a goblin held a banner on a long spear. The banner was a blue field over a black field, with a ragged skull image painted in the centreline, and streaks of red tumbling down the blue field from the top of the banner.

Next to the orc captain a Grigg skulked, dressed in leather robes and dragging one of the townsfolk by his hair. This man was a middle-aged merchant type, his once-rich clothes torn and ruined and muddy and his face bruised. His thighs and upper arms had been shackled together so that as the Grigg dragged him around he was forced to duck-walk and stumble and squat-jump after the Grigg. Even in the grim half-light the guards could see his eyes darting about and feel his exhaustion and terror. It was their first experience meeting deepfolk, and his fear was contagious.

The Grigg spoke, calling out to them in the deepfolk’s harsh and incomprehensible tongue as the Griggs capered and the Goblins blustered behind him. Once his voice had fallen flat on the damp earth of the clearing they watched in horror as the human prisoner’s throat began to swell, his neck arched, and his eyes flooded with tears of horror. He coughed and spluttered and then spoke in a deep, horrible voice, spitting out words in the human language with bile and rage, his throat and mouth strained with the effort of forcing his voice to unnatural volume and gravelly tone. When his speech was done he fell forward, gasping, into the mud, but the Grigg dragged him back to his knees, and they saw spittle and mud smeared across his jaw.

We are here with our demands. You will heed!

Amestra gestured for Amygdal to be silent, and spoke in return. The Grigg seemed to understand her human speech but refused to speak even a word in response; instead it forced its human prisoner to speak with its unnatural voice of gravelly rage.

We want coin

At this Amestra seemed surprised. She looked over at the guards in shock, raised and eyebrow, and asked the Grigg why it wanted coin.

When a hunter of your wretched kind flays a deer, does the deer ask what the hide is for? Does it beg to know if it will be a rug on your filthy floor, or a ragged cloak to hide your spindly and disgusting form? No! It is prey, it gives what it is made to give. So!

This speech was too much for the prisoner, who coughed up blood and fell to his side in the grass. The Grigg dragged him up again and a goblin behind it poked him with its spear. He sagged again but had enough sense not to fall. As he dragged himself back up they saw he was bleeding from his mouth.

Amestra acknolwedged the sense of the Grigg’s little speech, and asked for a price. The Grigg made its demands, for a large amount of money for each prisoner. Then added,

Except this one! I will eat it when I am done with you

After he said that the prisoner heard his own voice, and broke down in sobs. The goblins laughed and another one jabbed him with its spear. The Grigg kicked him and said something else, and with a final, hoarse gasp he added,

We will return here tomorrow night. Bring the money or we feast on your kin

And then they turned and faded into the night.

The raid

During the journey back it became clear that the Chieftain was unwilling to pay the deepfolks’ price. It was too much coin for the town to comfortably spare, and he doubted it could be recouped from the rescued townsfolk themselves. Besides, he argued, capitulation would just embolden these scum. Instead they would redouble their defenses, refuse to pay, and if the deepfolk returned would make them pay for what they had done; and if not well, 10 dead townsfolk was not such a great tax on top of what they had already lost. Such was life in the mountains, right? He added a small aside about how the tax would be unnecessary if the town were better defended, and retired to his home to leave Amestra to explain the decision to her confused levy.

Hugo Tuya’s guards returned to the hostelry and made their plans. They estimated there were perhaps 20 or 25 deepfolk in that group, and they could not leave the prisoners to be slaughtered; nor could they let their own payment slide out of their rip. They would launch a raid at first light, and free the prisoners or die trying.

As they made their plans Amestra came in and, with dour grunts, indicated her assent to their assault. She told them the likely location of the deepfolk camp, and wished them luck. They made their preparations and at first light slipped out of the town to do their work.

In the hills north of town was an old cave complex with two entrances, a narrow crack at ground level and a wider hole to a cave higher up the cliff. She suspected that the batriders nested in that higher cave, while the rest of the gang hid out in the lower part. If they entered by the upper part they might be able to creep down to the prisoners and then fight their way out with the prisoners secured.

It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all they had. At dawn they found themselves at the cliff face, scaling a narrow goat path up to the entrance to the bat rider cave while below them the cave entrance’s Grigg guards cowered away from the dawn sun in the shadows of the cave mouth. Hugo Tuya’s guards had done everything they could to prepare for this: blessings from the local Rimewarden, some magical herbs that gave the humans power of dark vision, Bao Tap’s animal companion prepared, all potions readied for use. They would give their all for this raid.

They slipped past the sleeping bats into a narrow tunnel. They passed the hole where the batriders rested, and moved down the tunnel towards the lower level. Where it curved towards the ground floor they saw a narrow ledge, on which crouched a team of Grigg archers. Without further thought they split up and began the attack. Yoog and Quangbae crept up to the ledge to ambush the archers, and as soon as their trap was sprung Kyansei charged into the main room to confront the rabble there, followed by Itzel. Bao Tap and Callim backtracked to ambush the bat riders and slaughter them. The battle was begun.

With her rush attack Kyansei was able to place herself between the goblin guards and the prisoners, and with her ferocious valour held the goblins back from wicked sacrifice until the rest of her companions could finish off the batriders and the archers and join her. By the time they did, though, the Orc captain and his Grigg mage were in battle. Kyansei managed to dispense with a Goblin captain and some of his guards but paid a heavy price in blood. The battle turned grim and desperate and there on the cave floor they made their stand, slicked with the blood of goblin, Grigg and their own fellows as the cavern echoed with screams, curses, horrible grinding sounds and the clash of metal. More Grigg ran in, and they felt sure they would be overwhelmed.

Somehow, though, they prevailed. Kyansei fell, hacked down by the Orc captain before Quangbae could finally fell him, and Itzel too was downed by magic and arrows, but then the tide turned and they found themselves chasing the last goblins around the room, brutally finishing the whole gang. When they were done they stood gasping on a pile of corpses, surrounded by blood, pain and murder. The prisoners were spared, and somehow they had done it.

Now, where was their money?