Campaign One: Chapter XII - The Pit of Proving

A gladiator faces a test of endurance in the pit

An Unsuccessful Ambush

Luctoras 21st Concord, 30 Fifth Age

Shocked by the appearance of figures from his past, Vilwyn took the Reforged aside and warned them that something was wrong. He told the group that the men were dangerous bandits that he knew from his past. Surprised by Vilwyn's association with such villains, the Reforged decided to lure them out of the bar to a place where the party could ambush and slay them. Vilwyn magically disguised himself as the bandits' leader, Aedwerd, and went over to their table. The men were shocked by his arrival but greeted him enthusiastically, saying that they had not expected to see him, but assuring him that they were looking fastidiously for new recruits. Vilwyn-as-Aedwerd told them stonily to meet him in the alley beside the butcher's to give a full report. 

Meanwhile, the Reforged took up their positions in said alleyway. Visimar clung to the wall, high enough to be unseen; Callidus hid behind a disused barrel, while Kharmir hid inside it, peering through a hole in the wood. Vilwyn arrived, still in Aedwerd's guise, and prepared for the bandits' arrival. They did not appear. Undeterred, the party waited longer. A halfling and a young woman arrived in the alley, and the Reforged readied their strikes, but it quickly became clear that the pair were lovers in a secret rendezvous. Vilwyn cleared his throat, and the pair hurried away. Kharmir ventured back into the Three Badgers Inn, and found that the bandits' booth was empty, their drinks abandoned. 

Guessing that the bandits had suspected their deception, the party inquired with the barman as to their steading. Grimley revealed that the men were staying in room number four, and Vilwyn suggested a midnight ambush to the group. Meanwhile, Callidus asked more about the note that had been left for him at the bar -

Grimley explained that it was left by a young woman in her twenties, with a trace of an Armathainian accent. Callidus didn't recognise the description, but knew the spider seal of his mistress, the Collectress. They still had a few hours before sundown, so the party decided to head into the River Village to investigate the note.

The Collectress' Agent

The River Village was a smoky, roughly oblong settlement clustered around the muddy road towards the mountains. The streets were small and crowded, bustling with fishermen and tradespeople making their living from the half-hundred quays along the river. Its leaning timber buildings housed bait shacks, pot shops, warehouses, merchant's stalls, alehouses, and brothels. Along the walk, the party asked Callidus about the Collectress, otherwise known as 'Arania of the Deep,' in whose name Callidus had slain Otis Bolger for the crime of slander. Visimar recalled the words of Mama Marianne, who had described Callidus as 'indebted to the spider queen', but Callidus resented the moniker. He explained that Arania was the woman who took him in and taught him the value of culture and collection - it is in her image that Callidus accumulates trinkets from his travels.

After searching the River Village for an hour, Callidus happened across a house with a red crab painted over the door. He and Visimar went in, while Kharmir and Vilwyn stood guard at the door. Inside were racks upon racks of woven rugs, with an open door onto a quay in the River Stane. Operating a loom was a woman, whose pale blonde hair was clasped in a spider clip behind her head. The stranger ran to Callidus and embraced him, saying 'Callidus! It has been so long!' before whispering in his ear: 'You're in deep shit.' As it turned out, the woman was an agent of the Collectress by the name of Lorie, and she had been waiting for Callidus' return on behalf of their shared benefactor. After making sure that Visimar could be trusted, she demanded a report on Callidus' mission. Awkwardly, Callidus explained that the Swamp Snakes endeavor had fallen through due to soured negotiations, while the Emerald Brewery deal had done the same due to its proprietor being a dangerous cult leader that Callidus had to put down. Lorie asked who he wanted to relay the news, and Callidus decided to do it himself, hoping that his close relationship with the Collectress would lessen her wrath. Lorie agreed. 'Looks like you're not getting out, after all,' she said.

Outside, Kharmir asked Vilwyn about the men at the inn. Vilwyn explained that they were members of the Bannerless, the dregs of a formerly noble company of sellswords that turned to brigandry after the Battle of Mar Mulkaan decimated their numbers. After Mar Mulkaan, the band splintered, turning on each other and hanging several on suspicion of treachery. The three men in the tavern were some of the worst that remained - Peeler, a torturer with a penchant for skinning his victims; Ohtar Kondhorie, an elven archer from the Fenmarrow swamps; and Rask, a huge and brutally strong lizardfolk with a cannibalistic streak. Peeler was personally responsible for skinning the Bannerless' spymaster, Gilvolio, alive. Though murder was typically against his code, Vilwyn believed that ridding the realm of such men was a mercy, not a sin.

The Pit of Proving

Callidus and the Reforged bid farewell to Lorie and, as the sun began to set, went back through the River Gate into the city. Crowds massed on the rough stone steps leading up Petra's Cairn, the second of Stonecross' great crags. The Pit of Proving - a huge stone colosseum built out of the mountain itself - stood beneath a canopy of grey stormclouds that gathered overhead. The dusty iron gate clanged, and the swell of the crowd carried the Reforged towards it. The party spotted a red-bearded man moving against the flow of the crowd - he appeared to be searching for someone, frantically addressing stronger-built people in the crowd. Vilwyn approached him and the man asked if they were warriors. The Black Hammers, a team of fighters, had dropped out of the imminent games and the organisers required a replacement. When the man mentioned the potential prize of one thousand gold pieces, the party enthusiastically agreed.

The Pit of Proving

Inside the arena, the air was abuzz as spectators anxiously awaited the fight. The seats of the colosseum stretched upward row after row, and the Lord's Box was cloaked in shadow. The Reforged were taken to the holding area, a bleak rough-cut stone cell beneath the pit itself. Slats in the ceiling provide a better view of the Lord's Box. The barefoot Marshal, now wearing a heavy chain of office over his roughspun grey shift, sat with a smith's hammer lying across his lap. Beside him, sat on a stone stool, was the Lord of Stonecross, Slean Stylflint, Son of the Hanged, with a bleak-looking face and premature grey hairs in his auburn beard. Around the Lord was his court - his wife, children, advisors and huscarls, as well as his court mage: an elven man with pale, white hair, clutching a staff made of glittering black stone. There was also a place in the Box for foreign dignitaries, which was occupied by a long-haired old man in a wheelchair, a circlet around his head, a white and grey shawl over his legs. 

In the holding cells, the Reforged were faced with their fellow fighters - The Mountain Birds, a group of tribespeople with painted faces and feathered cowls; Storm's Call: a group of human, half-elf and halfling soldiers wearing uniform armour; and The Stonecarvers: a more colourful assembly of adventurers consisting of an elderly human wizard named Thandemar, a hulking goliath brute named Baldur, a lithe and agile catfolk named Rufus, and a cunning half-elf named Aelfric. Aelfric introduced himself and his troupe, and engaged in a brief trade of barbs with the Reforged. Kharmir became aware that the half-elf's words were laced with an enchantment, perhaps designed to intimidate his opponents, but luckily the Reforged resisted his magic. 

A blaring horn marked the beginning of the ceremony, followed by the beating of hooves. Ten horses emerged from the huge gate at the end of the arena, armoured and painted with blue spirals across their necks and flanks, ridden by shirtless riders daubed with the same patterns. A Stylflint banner - four arches on blue and black - flew behind a flag bearing the fist-clenched lightning bolt of Borrak the Stormlord. A march of shaven-headed priests entered, their grey robes cut low to show off their painted, muscled chests. They were followed by a procession of axe dancers - thickset men and women tossing hand-axes to one another in a dazzling display of physical aptitude. War horns blared, and the procession livened with dances of joy, rhythmic chants accompanied by the clapping of hands, making as much noise and celebration as possible. Finally, the last of the priests brought out a heavy stone bowl, and presented it to the Marshal in the Lord's Box. It was ferried to the Marshal by attendants, and - using thick stone tongs - a sparking crystal was carefully lifted from the bowl and placed before the Marshal, who proclaimed, 

'My pilgrimage is at an end! Your Marshal has sat upon the peak of his ancestors and weathered the storm. All weakness is eroded, and I return, my body and soul honed. It is my honour to announce the commencement of this great ceremony, in the name of Slean Stylflint, Lord of Stonecross, and Borrak the Stormlord, our divine protector!'

He took his carved hammer from his belt and smashed it upon the crystal, which broke in one blow, releasing a bolt of lightning into the sky that momentarily darkened all else. The crowd drew back in awe. And the games began.

The Beast Hunt

First came the minor hunts, conducted by teams of hunters from the town. A few mountain lions were hunted and slain, followed by hyenas from the far south of Cyrenos that were released and killed with throwing axes to cheers from the audience. Then came the major hunts. The Mountain Birds took on a two-headed giant, which smashed one of their number to a pulp. Storm's Call fought a giant crocodile, though two of their number were irreparably mauled. Next, the Stonecarvers fought and slew two owlbears without taking injury. Throughout the hunts, the arena molded and changed, operated by a complex network of pulleys and chains in the mountain. As Aelfric returns to the holding area, covered in the blood of the creature, he laughed. 'That leaves you with the big one,' he said, and did not elaborate.

Finally, it was the Reforged's turn. As they rose from the holding area, they saw that the arena had altered again: a maze of 10-foot-deep trenches had sunken into the stone. In the centre of the arena, chained to a stake, was a large winged lizard, about 20-feet long, covered in slate-grey scales. Orange eyes gleamed in its serpentine face, and its jaws were filled with sharp teeth. It had a pair of hind legs below its sinuous body, and its tail - comprising almost half of its body - ended in a thick cartilage knot with a stinger protruding out of it, not unlike that of a scorpion. As it assessed its new adversaries, its neck swelled and vocalized a throaty growl.

Callidus dealt the first blow, firing a crossbow bolt into the wyvern's sinewy underbelly to cheers from the ground. Kharmir rushed forth with his greatsword, while Vilwyn concentrated a harmful bane upon the creature. Visimar slipped into the trench and ran along the wall, alighting his blade with blood-flame. As the wyvern lashed out with its claws and made to take flight, Kharmir's binding oath held it within a certain radius, while Visimar hauled himself onto the creature's spined back. The wyvern's wings beat furiously, lifting it to the limits of Kharmir's oath, as the floor above the trenches sizzled with underfloor fire, heating everything in contact with it. The Reforged lunged into the trench maze, attacking from below while the wyvern swung down fruitlessly with its claws. Visimar stabbed the wyvern in the wing, tearing through the leathery skin, but was not prepared for the wyvern's stinger that impaled him through the back and out the chest, pulsing poison into his veins. As Visimar fell, Kharmir rushed from the trench, lunged onto the creature and decapitated it with his gleaming greatsword. The crowd erupted in cheers.

The Grand Feota

The Reforged had little time to recuperate, for next came the Grand Feota, the great game at the heart of Alagosian pit-fighting. Soon, they and the Stonecarvers were hauled back up to the pit. Huge chains had been strung across the upper reaches of the arena. Wrapped up in iron, two slabs dangled in the centre, each carved by the stonemasons to bear the bearded visage of Borrak. A herald stepped up, and proclaimed: 

'And now, for the main event! Our Grand Feota differs every tournament. Over centuries, blood has stained the stone below, the weak have been weeded and the strong have triumphed to fame. Tonight, the great game is a test of strength, team-play and endurance. Who can carry Borrak's Burden?' 

The object of the game was to carry the stones to the 15-foot-tall platforms at either end of the arena, placed upon the anvil, and sundered. The first team to carry their slab to the anvil and break it wins the contest.

Starting at opposite ends of the arena, the first major scuffle between the Reforged and the Stonecarvers came in the centre as they struggled to loose the stones from their chains. Rufus displayed an uncommon speed, darting across the arena, though her attempt to break the chain failed. The Reforged engaged her and her team in combat, trying and failing several times to break the chains, before Kharmir decided to climb onto Visimar's shoulders into melee range. He swung his greatsword, slicing through the links, but as the stone fell it was instead picked up by Baldur, who began to run (though encumbered) across the arena towards the Stonecarvers' anvil. Kharmir gave chase, knocking it from Baldur's hands and stealing it back. Meanwhile, Callidus targeted Thandemar, whose magical attacks had been harrying the party from afar, and severed his right leg, knocking him prone.

Tailed by Baldur, Kharmir dropped his stone to leave his hands free to turn and knock the goliath unconscious. Rufus dived in to steal the stone before being intercepted by Vilwyn's mace. Though the tides seemed to be turning in the Reforged's favour, Aelfric dropped Callidus to the ground before Thandemar (from the floor) conjured a cloud of magical fog that obscured the fight zone. The party glanced around, seeing only hazy silhouettes moving in the mist, before Rufus darted out and scooped up the stone, having been revived by Aelfric. On the steps of the anvil platform, Vilwyn healed Callidus, who rushed over to silence the wizard for good, only to be caught in Thandemar's magical flame and incapacitated. While Kharmir put Aelfric out of the fight, Visimar yanked the stone from Rufus' grip and knocked Rufus to the dirt before making his way up to the anvil. At last, the Reforged had won. Kharmir tended to Aelfric's wounds while the crowd roared. The Marshal gave a nod of respect. A crate of gold was placed before the Reforged, who took their winnings with delight. However, before they descended back into the holding area, Vilwyn spotted three figures in the crowd who were holding their applause, and could tell from the third man's hulking frame that they were the Bannerless. 

In the holding area, the veiled pit attendants tended to the fighters' wounds. The Stonecarvers' regarded their victors with begrudging respect before being taken deeper into the arena for specialist treatment. The pit attendants were ushered out, and a visitor entered the room: the pale elven man from the Lord's Box. His name was Rogeiros, Archmage of Stonecross. Rogeiros said that he recognised the fighters' description from the scholar's report earlier that day, and was curious to know why gladiators would be investigating such esoterica. He healed Kharmir's stomach wound and Callidus' burns, and asked the Reforged to elaborate on their inquiries. Grateful for the elf's help, Visimar explained what had happened to him when he was abducted from the Sunless Lands by men in red hoods. With Visimar's abnormal abilities in mind, Rogeiros recalled the name 'Sanguinari' in relation to a shadowy cult of kidnappers with a penchant for blood magic. The group's activities were shrouded in obscurity, and that was the extent of even Rogeiros' knowledge on the matter. The Reforged thanked him, but Visimar wasn't quite finished. He drew from his cloak the black iron coin taken from Osborn Tealeaf's locket and showed it to the elf, who identified it as an infernal coin, minted in the molten halls of the Nine Hells. He warned the group of the danger presented by such an item, and suggested taking it with him to Turnshale Tower for analysis. Visimar declined, and the party was surprised by Rogeiros' lack of protest. When asked why he was willing to let strangers keep such an artefact, Rogeiros said that it was for the same reason that any man turns to the arcane arts, and why he was exiled from the elven enclave of Vanga Irina: curiosity. After all, they were not strangers any more. 

And so it is written.

Campaign One: Chapter XI - Arms and Arrivals

Attack of the Pallid Men

The Pallid Men

Dametras 19th Concord, 30 Fifth Age

With his new friend lying dead, Vilwyn's warning alerted the campsite to their attackers, and Alice woke to find a pair of Pallid Men dragging her from her bed by her ankle. The Rangers scrambled for their weapons, Kharmir rushed to his feet and drew his blade while Callidus melted into the trees to harry the forest dwellers from afar. It became clear that one of their number was a shaman of some kind, whose blood magics caused a nest of spikes to spread across the campsite, endangering all who walked upon it. Injured by Callidus' thrown daggers, the shaman tried to flee, but was beheaded by Kharmir's flaming sword. Visimar and Byron lunged at Alice's attackers, with Visimar sinking his teeth into one. Byron was injured by one of the Pallid Men's spears, but retaliated with a hammer blow that caved in its head and freed his daughter. While Byron and Alice staggered away, Vilwyn healed a wounded Kharmir, and Visimar's Curse of the Fallen Puppet reanimated a dead Pallid Man to finish off the last. 

The group gathered around while Vilwyn cast a prayer of healing to close their wounds. Looting the bodies of the slain Pallid Men, they found that the strange leathery masks they wore were made of tanned human skin, peeled from previous victims and worn as a kind of ritual attire. Kharmir also revealed that he had taken a spear to the belly, causing a punctured stomach which could not be healed by the magic Vilwyn was capable of. Alarmed, the party made plans to hurry to Stonecross and allow Kharmir some time to recuperate naturally. The following morning, they bid farewell to the Rangers of Roamere and continued along the Stumpmarsh Trail.

Leaving Fenmarrow

Lunas 20th Concord, 30 Fifth Age

The Reforged carried on along the road after the night's encounter with the Pallid Men, soaked in blood and muck. Alice trembled from the shock, held tightly in her father's arms. The trees began to thin, the canopy overhead letting more and more sunlight through as the cart neared the edge of the Fenmarrow Forest. The mud here was thicker than it was upon arrival in Correnwald, giving the impression of recent rainfall. Several times, the party had to slow down to let the horse navigate its way through waterlogged dips or sinking mud patches.

After a while, Vilwyn's keen eye noticed that the path ahead was blocked by a pool of grimy black mud overlain with rotten leaves and plant matter. Bubbles of displaced air burst on the surface, releasing a foul sulphurous stench into the air. Vilwyn hurled a stick into the muck, and it sank down fully beneath. Realising that the path was impassable in a cart, the party freed the horse from its restraints and continued the rest of the way on foot. 

Finally, after two weeks of murk and misery, the dim pink light of evening sun shone through the trunks. Not quite believing their luck, the party burst out of the treeline and found themselves, at last, outside the Fenmarrow Forest. Ahead, the Stumpmarsh Trail continued along a soft boggy plain, lined with the stumps of chopped tree trunks. A few mills and farmsteads littered the marsh, farming bogroot, while a ruined watchtower stood nearby, abandoned. Exhausted by their march, the party decided to make camp inside the watchtower, where they found the remnants of an old campfire, as well as a nearby pond, in which Byron washed the mud and blood out of his daughter's hair. Visimar found a rusty helmet amidst the rubble, bearing the mark of a regiment of the old Stonecross armies, during the days of the Swamp Kings and Storm Kings. It was most likely an army under one of the many King Dunstans of Stonecross, though they were so numerous throughout history that the scholars stopped counting. The party settled down to rest, with Kharmir keeping well away from Visimar to ensure that his injured belly did not trigger any uncontrollable bloodlust within the dhampir. 

Luctoras 21st Concord, 30 Fifth Age

The next morning, the party continued their walk for another few hours across the marshland, past patches of bogroot, hops and wild rice, and windmills that spin dully in the breeze. In the distance, a few farmers stood knee-deep in miniature lakes, cultivating their wetland crops. Cresting the fold of a hill, a dark wall of jagged peaks broke the skyline ahead, before slowly unveiling out into the massive Dragonspine range, blocking the horizon behind a spiked ridge of rock. The mountains were unfathomably vast, and only the foothills of the larger mountains to the north. Below these grand summits, at the edge of a large river that gleams in the midday sun, lay the Most Ancient City of Stonecross, Alagost's oldest settlement. 

Stonecross Ahead

Where Correnwald was a ramshackle handful of buildings clustered at the water's edge, exposed to the dangers of the Fenmarrow Forest, Stonecross was massive, encircled by 15-foot stone walls studded with watchtowers and its four huge gates, one at each compass point. Since the Sack of Stonecross thirty-three years ago, considerable amounts of time and gold was poured into the city's not-inconsiderable fortifications. Two vast crags dominated the city skyline in the north and south corners, fringed by sheer cliffs on the outer side and natural stone stairs on the inner. The northern crag, named Petra's Cairn, was surmounted by an ancient stone ringfort that now houses an imposing temple to the Stormlord. The southern crag, the largest, bore a vast and terrific stone keep, roughly-drum shaped, surrounded by threefold walls that fly the blue-and-black banners of House Stylflint. 

The Stone Drum of Stonecross

Awe-struck, the Reforged took in this impressive sight, only to be interrupted by a farmer's cart coming from behind, laden with hops. The party got talking to the farmer, who introduced himself as Edric, and asked if they were heading into Stonecross to celebrate the Marshal's return. Curious, the party inquired further, and learned that Marshal Dulgrum, head of the Stormlord faith in the city, had been into the Dragonspine on a pilgrimage, and the Stonecross was hosting a festival for his return. Having only stopped briefly in the city before their excursion to Correnwald, the party asked Edric for advice - namely, where Visimar and Kharmir could find a centre of knowledge, and where Byron could find work. Edric told them that Turnshale Tower was the home of the city's resident archmage - an exile from the elven enclave of Vanga Irina - which had a small library attached to it, accessible by appointment only. He also directed them towards Hewan, a noted smith who might be able to provide work if he had need of a new apprentice. The party bid thanks to the farmer and allowed him passage.

As they walked down towards the city, Vilwyn noticed Alice trembling, and asked Byron about her welfare. Byron was disturbed by the ceaselessness of the torment she had endured, from the death of her mother, to her imprisonment by the Needlefang goblins, and now the attack of the Pallid Men. Vilwyn asked if he might be able to ease her distress by magical means, and Byron acquiesced. Taking Alice's hand, he spoke to her in soft tones, and promised her that she was safe now, that the party would find her comfortable lodgings in the city, and that she and her father could start anew. In doing so, he allowed a warming magic to pass through his hand into hers, and he noticed her troubled expression cleared somewhat. For the first time as long as they'd known her, Alice spoke, whispering a thanks.

It began to rain, the clouds overhead broiling in typical Alagost fashion. Shored up against the city's north wall, the ramshackle Marsh Town lay dirty and in a widespread state of disrepair. The streets between the tightly-built, crooked buildings were made of packed dirt: uneven, rutted and muddy. Structures had received similar low levels of care, and most were built out of splintery timbers. Pigs and sheep grazed in narrow pens, soaked in mud. The smell of wet earth and manure was rife, accompanied by the sound of hooves, mingling conversations, distant shouts, and the barking of dogs. As they went, the Reforged got a few intrigued looks from the passers-by, who were unused to travellers, even at the height of summer. 

The foot traffic grew heavier near the gate: a huge, 15-foot wide portcullis kept shut. Decorated with tree-root patterns and crocodile bones, the gatehouse was poorly-maintained, its much-crumbled stone walkways and towers replaced by wooden banisters and thatch roofs. As the Reforged approached, they found the gate manned by guards of the Stonecross City Watch, dressed in blue-and-black surcoats stamped with the four arches of the Stylflint crest, over chainmail and greaves, and pointed half-helms with nasal strips. The party glimpsed a cart ahead being searched for contraband, and quickly resolved to stuff any suspicious or illicit items they discovered in Correnwald into their socks and the seams of their jackets. However, as they approached, the guards saw the impoverished Alice and Byron, and allowed the ragtag group through the gate without much delay.

Market Games

The city within the walls was very, very old. The streets were wide, former dirt tracks that had recently been cobbled over. Some buildings were timber, but most were stone, with steeply-pitched roofs of dark grey slate. The rain came down in sheets, and the clouds cast a gloom across the whole city. Locals ran to and fro, shawls, cloaks and hoods pulled over their heads to shield them from the wet. 

The four main roads of Stonecross converged at Dunstan's Square, named for one of the many King Dunstans of this city during the pre-Ceonred days. As the Reforged arrived, the forum hosted a kind of multicoloured bazaar of cloth tents and awnings, all clustered around a natural dais in the centre of the square, which hosted the First Stone - a large, roughly-cubic boulder with a notch in the top, still used as a chopping block. All around, hooded workers perched on precarious ladders replaced the golden ribbons of the just-passed Highsun festival with lightning-bolt banners to celebrate the pilgrimage's end. Despite the overcast sky, the market was alive with chatter and music that carries over the harsh wind. Alongside the merchants, a few games stalls were set up within tents to keep them out of the rain. Judging from the streamers still attached to some of their tents, they had been here since Highsun, but stayed up for this extra day of festivities in the city.

First, Vilwyn went to the taskboard at the edge of the square to investigate the state of things in the city. It was mostly plastered with information about the Marshal's return, including a programme for gladiator games at the Pit of Proving that night, which the party resolved to attend. Also on the noticeboard was a flyer for a local play - The Pennant of Red and Gold - at a theatre called the Rockery; a note stamped with the Stylflint sigil, warning of bandits taken up at Fort Siward along the mountain road; an official-looking note from the city watch, inquiring after sellswords to slay a roaming beast; and tucked away, almost hidden beneath the rest, was a scrawled note: 'HELP WANTED: Must be discreet and skilled with arms. Ask for Gilderbone at the Three Badgers Inn.'

Meanwhile, the rest of the party decided to unwind by partaking in some games. First, they went to a game called Dwarven Anvil - run by three members of the Stonemason's Guild, the object of the game was to dislodge a heavy stone cube from a fulcrum-mounted bar by striking the opposite end with a hammer. Visimar tried first, but failed, so instead he went in search of food. Despite his injury, Kharmir stepped up and succeeded first try, winning the pot of thirty-eight gold pieces and stunning the stonemasons. Callidus returned from an archery competition with all three prizes - a basket of raspberries, a stone medallion shaped like a bird of prey, and a mouse from a cage - and joined the party beside the First Stone, where they all ate some local lamb pasties, relishing the taste after weeks of gruel. The party then turned to the arm wrestling tent, hosted by a shaven-headed member of the Stormlord's clergy, and after playing a few games against each other, Kharmir challenged the champion - the priest himself - and narrowly won.

The Marshal's Return

Victor, the travelling merchant

After partaking in the festivities, the party happened across a familiar elderly gnome, who had relocated to Stonecross since leaving the swamp. Despite the party's warm greetings, Victor inexplicably pretended that he had never seen them before in his life. The party cast an eye over his offerings, and Vilwyn decided to buy a jar of beige jelly. However, when he tried to open it, Victor shrieked in panic and lunged to prevent him. The party bid farewell to the merchant and hoped to see him again. Before they could leave, however, a fanfare rose from the city's south, and the sound of a parade drifted down the River Road. A crowd materialised and the party were pressed up against the stalls, knocking Victor's table over to the gnome's indignation. A man in blue led the way through the square, ringing a bell. "Make way! Make way for the Marshal! Make way!" A man followed behind - physically massive, at least seven feet tall, musclebound and square-jawed, with a shaved head like a boulder and knuckles like marbles. Beneath the hem of his ragged grey tunic, his feet were bare and caked in mud, dust and dried blood. A cheer rose up in the square, with cries of "Dulgrum!" "Hail the Marshal!" and "Stormlord's blessings!" The herald and the Marshal turned up the road into the Stonestairs district and begin making their way up the King's Cairn.

Before turning in, Kharmir and Visimar went to Turnshale Tower, where an Ermet scholar found them perusing the gardens. Kharmir asked for knowledge on fallen Dwarven civilisations, while Visimar asked for information on cults and demonic influence. The scholar noted down their interests, and their willingness to exchange information, and promised to speak to Archmage Rogeiros on their behalf.

At last, the party went down to the Three Badgers Tavern, down Elder Way in the city's Old Town: a solid stone building on the main road, within eyeshot of the Old Gate, three stories tall with turrets and chimneys made of slate-grey stone. A thatch-roofed stable was attached to the east side of the inn, and a wooden shield depicting three gamboling badgers hung outside the front door. Inside was a spacious but cosy common room, lit by a circular firepit in the middle and overseen by three eight-foot statues of badgers on their hind legs. There was a lower area in the middle of the room and several booths clustered between wooden pillars around the outside, while a balcony ran around the entire room, forming the upper level of the tavern, connected to the lower by a cramped narrow staircase. The bartender was Grimley, an overweight man in his sixties with an ugly cleft in his head and a silk wrap around his right eye. He often claimed to have lost his eye in the Sack of Stonecross, having managed to fight off three men himself with only a tankard and a broken sword. Grimley asked his guests to write their names in a ledger, and recognised Callidus by name, handing him a note which had been left at the bar for him by a young woman in her twenties.

Meanwhile, Vilwyn looked around. The taproom was stocked with people, and he could tell from the girded tunics and amber brooches that they were locals, or at least Alagosian. Their simplistic clothing made the non-locals stand out ever more. A man in a yellow cloak sat alone in the furthest corner, keeping a keen eye on the room over the rim of his tankard, and three figures sat at a table in the middle of the room, drinking and laughing loudly between themselves. The first was a bald man with a pockmarked face, wearing a bandolier of wickedly sharp knives of various shapes. The second was a fairly small man, who wouldn't be much over five foot if he was stood up, with a narrow, clever face and slightly pointed ears, with a skin tone bordering between tan and very pale green. The third was a massive, fearsome-looking creature, scaled all over, with the flat head of a lizard, his spine, brow and jaw studded with bone spikes.

Vilwyn blanched. He knew these men, and they knew him.