Episode 4 – Chathold
| The Assassins |
Argos - Rogue 1st level LE (NPC) Craven - Fighter/Rogue 1st/1st LE (PC) Keldirk - Rogue 1st level NE (PC) |
| Locale | The three assassins had completed their voyage from the Olman Islands (their home for the past several years). The Captain of the Sea Swift had his crew row the trio ashore on the outskirts of Chathold Harbour. They made their way into the city amd are now on the streets of Chathold, Capital city of The Prelacy of Amlor. |
| Date | 1st Needfest 582 CY (Common Year) |
| Time | Just Before Dawn |
The trio moved carefully through the fog shrouded streets of Chathold, port city in the Prelacy of Almor. It was almost sunrise and the three travelers were anxious to get a solid roof over their heads. Having just been deposited on-shore after spending almost two months at sea, Craven was grateful for the fact that the ground beneath his feet was not rocking.
| Argos | We need to find an open tavern, where we can wait until tonight. |
| Keldirk | I’m not interested in waiting, we’ve been stuck on board that god forsaken boat for so long. I don’t plan on waiting one second more than I have to. We know where this guy lives, lets just go there now and be done with it. |
| Craven | We were specifically instructed not to contact him during the day. |
| Keldirk | It’s not daylight yet, so I guess we’re not breaking any rules. |
| Argos | Can’t argue with that, but I’m sure we were not expected to see him this early in the morning either. |
| Craven | At this point I don’t care what we do as long as the floor doesn't move. |
| Argos | No we’ll save that for later... after a few drinks. |
They continued their trek through the streets, on their way to the home of Don Lombard, the contact for the family in the city. The group have been told that Don will provide them with further instructions. It was almost daybreak when they arrived at Don Lombard's address. Keldirk, frustrated by weeks of inaction, was eager to get underway. He strode confidently to the front of the two storey building and banged loudly on the door.
After several minutes of loud banging, the door finally opened. The person who opened the door was clearly displeased at being woken at this early hour. He was a large man, strong but his bulk had obviously run into flab, dressed in only a sweat-stained nightshirt and carrying a heavy, loaded crossbow.
| Man | What the fuck do you want?!? |
| Keldirk | We were told that Don Lombard lives here. |
| Man | And what might that be to you..? You’d better start explaining or I’ll squeeze this off and one of you will have a bitch of a gut ache. |
| Keldirk | We were told he was expecting us. |
The man was silent, as he regarded the three of them.
| Man | No doubt you were also told to contact him during business hours at his trading house. |
| Keldirk | If this is a bad time, then I guess that's just bad luck. Please be so kind as to toddle off and wake your master before he comes down stairs and flogs you himself. |
| Man | And who might I say is calling? |
| Keldirk | He will know who we are. |
| Man | But of course, my lord... how rude of me... do come in. You may leave your weapons at the door and make yourselves comfortable in the sitting room. I will inform my... master of your arrival. Which one are you? |
| Keldirk | My name is Val Rorn. |
| Man | Very good sir... please. (indicates that they enter) |
With that the man stood aside and allowed the three of them to enter the house. They left their (visible) weapons in the entryway and proceeded to the sitting room while the man made his way up the stairs. Keldirk poured himself a glass of wine before making himself comfortable on one of the chairs.
| Argos | What do you think you are doing? |
| Keldirk | I’m waiting for our contact to come down stairs. The servant did say to make ourselves comfortable. |
| Craven | Are you really as stupid as you seem? |
| Keldirk | What?!? |
| Craven | That was no butler, you idiot. That was Don Lombard. |
| Argos | (nods) How else did he know we were expected? If he was expecting us at his trading house, why would he tell a servant that he was expecting anyone here? |
| Keldirk | Who cares, I don’t plan on starting my career here fawning over someone who obviously couldn’t cut it as an active member and had to retire. |
At that point the man returned from upstairs and stood at the door to the room.
| Man | Well it’s good to see they aren’t turning out sheep these days. But I would have thought you could follow simple instructions. You were told to contact me at my trading house. |
| Craven | Permit me to explain - |
| Man |
I’m not interested in your explanations. Your coming here could make
things very unpleasant, or it could mean nothing. Just the same I didn’t
want to have to worry about the consequences... that is why you were told
what you were told.
(He waited several seconds for his words to sink in to the three new arrivals before continuing.) As you are probably aware by now, I am Don Lombard. You (points to Keldirk) are Val Rorn, what are your names? (indicating the other two) |
| Craven | Craven. |
| Argos | Argos. |
| Don | No aliases? Your friend Val here obviously feels compelled to create an air of mystery, why is it that you two don’t? |
| Craven | Nobody would know who we are anyway, so what difference does it make if we use our real names. |
| Don | Fine! Since you are here, I may as well give you your instructions. You are to go from here to Del Mord, where you will contact another one of our retired operatives. His name is Saradok, but you will know him as Vesper. He owns a house in the Artisans Quarter and lectures in trade economics at the Del Mord university. Unfortunately, you have timed your arrival badly. We are entering Needfest and all trade between Chathold and Del Mord has ceased until after the festival. So I guess you are stuck here until then. I can arrange passage for you on a trade caravan after that but in the mean time you will be on your own. |
| Keldirk | Great! (shaking his head in disbelief) |
| Don |
Get yourselves some accommodations, and stay out of trouble. We don’t
need our newest members killed in some meaningless brawl before they have
even started working. Once you have found a place to stay, send word to me - at my trading house - letting me know where you are and I will get in touch with you. Until then... get the fuck out of my house before I really lose my temper! |
After leaving Don Lombard's, they found accommodations at a tavern called the Foaming Mug. The tavern was situated on the main road which lead to the docks. The road was known as the Golden Road, because it was said that all of the wealth in Almor has travelled along that road at some point in time.
They sent word to Don Lombard via a messenger and waited for Needfest to end.
It was during that time that Craven enjoyed the company of one of Chathold’s professionals. She approached him one evening as they sat in the tavern having a few drinks and soon convinced him to part with some of his money. He returned the next morning feeling very satisfied and proceeded to spend the remainder of his nights in the woman’s company.
On the last day of the festival, the City of Chathold was buzzing with activity. The Chosen of Pelor, Arch Prelate Kevont, was to return to town after weeks abroad and give thanks in the City Square. The crowds started to build from early that morning and by midday the Golden Road was a sea of faces. City guardsmen kept the crowds at bay, clearing a path down the center of the road for the Prelate’s entourage to travel. The weather was perfect, almost as if Pelor himself had decreed that no cloud should mar the perfect blue of the sky or obscure the golden sun.
The procession started with a group of mounted Knights, the banner of Pelor flapping at the tips of their lances as they rode their magnificent war horses confidently down the Golden Road. They were followed by the faithful of Pelor, walking and praying as they made their way to the City Square. Then came the carriage of the Prelate, drawn by perfect white horses, wearing barding so polished that it seemed as though there were a hundred suns reflecting into the crowd.
The Arch Prelate himself was an old man, who could have been mistaken for any commoner, were it not for his powerful aura. His robes were of the purest white emblazoned with a golden sun upon his breast.
After the procession was over, the crowd made its way to the City Square, the streets surrounding it were packed to overflowing and Keldirk, had a field day emptying the purses of several worshippers. No doubt, many people went home much poorer than they had come. That would matter little, though, as they had heard the Prelate speak and were spiritually fulfilled... even if they would go hungry for a time.
Before dawn the following morning, a messenger arrived at the tavern where the three asassins were staying and gave them their instructions. They were to join a merchant caravan headed for Ring-Roads, a semi-permanent encampment where two major trade routes intersect. They were to serve as guards should there be any trouble, but none was expected as the roads were usually safe at this time of the year and the caravan was large and quite well protected. The caravan was scheduled to depart later that day.
| Normal Text | Character's words or descriptive text if part of a paragraph |
| Italic Text | Character's thoughts or actions if surrounded by parenthesis |
| Bold Text | Character is shouting. |