(Fire/Earth Season 1615)
Copper Town was an aberration in many ways. A small city in its own right, of comparable size to New Pavis, existing solely off of the trade from the local mines. At the top of the hill the mighty temple of Gustbran, who the Tarshites in the area worshipped above all others, issued forth a chorus of metallic ringing, as the sacred forges gave forth their still flaming bounty. Money was everywhere, and all of the trappings of wealth were visible, mixed in with a choking metallic smell and taste that leaked from the ever-burning forges of the city. The darker side of wealth was ever present, and the freebooters and mercenaries who sought to earn or steal any of this wealth were everywhere, too. Enter the adventurers...
Aransar was ever mindful of the quest, and Kulbrast and Kenstral were with him. There was no need to indulge in the obvious material wealth of the city. For them, the quest is spiritual in nature, and it supercedes all other concerns. The brothers, however, are cut from different moulds - cursed by life's cruelty and living for the moment, they persuaded Orstanor (not a particularly difficult task, it must be said) to join them at a worship ceremony at the local Uleria temple, to help purge the dust of the road from their bodies. Aransar, Kenstral and Kulbrast headed straight to the temple of Gustbran in order to seek the legitimate work that would facilitate their passage through the kingdom of Tarsh. They found the work easily, taking employ as guards taking a shipment of ingots downriver by barge. They then secured accomodation for three nights.
After attending to the lusts of the body, Orlkensor and Branduan took a stroll through the town with the express intent of practicing the skills of the Lanbril cult from which they truly hail. Orlkensor, instructing his younger brother, helped Branduan pick a likely mark from one of the walled estates on the south side of the town. Branduan entered over a wall and broke into the villa, searching around for anything of wealth. Locating some small trinkets, and aware that the villa was inhabited, Branduan made his escape.
The party headed downriver toward Furthest a little over a week later. They rode alongside the barge which they were escorting, and earned their pay when the barge was attacked by a dozen bandits. Each warrior acquitted himself well and the bandits, so confident in their numbers, found themselves killed or captured. Then, at the suggestion of Aransar, showing a cruel streak, took the surviving brigands as slaves, with the intent of selling them on in Furthest. This, he felt, was a fitting reward for their life of theft. Whilst Kenstral and Kulbrast made representations against this, the rest of the group made themselves complicit in the act, either through support or silence.
The party stayed in Furthest only for as long as it took them to sell the slaves and re-equip, such was their desire to get away from the urbane lunarised culture and to make time with their quest. They headed north east until they found the town of Tarshford, little more than a forward trading post for the slaves being taken out of Balazar. They considered using the slave trade as a disguise, but ruled out the idea, having had their fill of the evil business. They travelled into Balazar, following the crude map that they had received and followed the trail that led to Elkoi.
About three days into the land they saw in the distance a plume of dark smoke across the plains. Using a farsee spell they were able to see a wyvern and its rider circling over the area, and when they scouted closer they could make out the aftermath of a slaver attack upon some of the local tribespeople. Once again they ignored the guilty feelings and focussed on the quest, continuing on their way toward the western citadel.
About a day out of Elkoi they were intercepted by a mounted patrol of rough looking warriors. Their leader spoke halting tradetalk, and advised the party that they were to be esorted to the court of King Glyptus ‘the Good’. Well aware that they looked more impressive than their erstwhile captors, the party complied, and were brought, finally, into the ancient and brooding citadel. They wound their way up through the town, enduring the open curiosity of the townspeople and the crowds of small children who followed the procession all the way up to the gates of the citadel proper. There they proceeded through megarons and along dark and shadowy porticos until guards instructed them to dismount. The group were rather uncomfortable by this point, effectively trapped within the citadel, and this was compounded by the sight of their horses being led away into the stables. Servants collected and carried their saddles and equipment and followed them into the main building before disappearing to quarters elsewhere.
The party arrived in the throne room of King Glyptus the Good, of Elkoi. The throne room contained an egrarious mix of individuals, all watching keenly from the shadows. Lunar diplomats, various priests and nobles stared at the newcomers with appraising looks. The king greeted them politely asking them their business and inviting them to stay in the citadel as his guests. He threw a banquet in their honour in the evening, and whilst attending, the group were accosted and interviewed by many of the power brokers of Elkoi and Balazar. Remaining as tight lipped as was prudent the group made a few tentative contacts, each trying to turn the arrival of these well armed and well heeled newcomers to some sort of personal advantage.
Orlkensor attracted the eye of one of the king’s comely daughters, Hecis. When the night had run its course, Orlkensor went with her to her private chamber for some earthly pleasure, and smugly grinned back at the other members of the party as he left on her arm. The rest of the group stayed or left, weach in turn being escorted to a private chamber in different parts of the citadel.
Orlkensor lounged on the bed expectantly, grinning at his good fortune and thanking the gods for his good looks. Hecis returned with some foreign liqueur and watched intently as Orlkensor quaffed it. Then sitting on the bed she stared deep into his eyes with an excited look upon her face. Orlkensor felt a sudden lurch of pain in his gut, and realised almost instantly that he had been poisoned, and the hot flush of expectation on the girl’s face suddenly took on another connotation. Hurling her from the bed, Orlkensor stumbled to his feet, the room reeling, as the girl began screaming hysterically for the guards...