(Fire Season 1614 - Sacred Time 1614)
The Story So Far…
Yelm is departing for the underworld, far to the west behind the distant mountains of Sartar, and the sky above Prax is a mixture of blues and blacks gradually merging as the spirits of Darkness reclaim their prize.
Far below lies the small settlement called 'Ronegarth', a small but well ordered cluster of buildings sheltering at the western wall of a small stone fort. Just outside of the town a large fire burns, sending sheets of sparks into the darkening sky, rising above the buildings and catching the stiff westerly Praxian breeze. A crowd is gathered by the fire listening to the words of one man who holds their attention with ease. His name is Raus, and he is well accustomed to public speaking.
"My friends, my allies, my people, we each give thanks tonight to the gods and the spirits of our ancestors that we are able to meet together in this place and know the sanctity and comfort of having food in our bellies and roofs over our heads. Most of us came here in search of a place to call home, so that we, in the way that men do, could create for ourselves, in the images of our gods, a vision of the world that we would inhabit and that we would hold up to others as an example of how we can live freely and at peace."
"Such a thing comes at a stiff price, and it is a price which in all likelihood we will continue to pay for as long as we are alive. It seems incredible to me that it was just under a year ago that I arrived here with my retinue, most of which stand among us this night. One year, and yet so much has been forged in this wilderness, and so much has been lost, not least of which my beloved wife, Varna."
"But tonight we are here to give thanks to those who helped make all of the construction that is around us a possibility. Give them your thanks good settlers, for their efforts over the last five seasons have made this a safe place for you and yours to sleep this night. By their blood and sacrifice do you know peace. This is the way of the world and the way of the warrior."
"It is this night, this Sacred Time, that I give my thanks to them again, for they have helped turn my dream to reality; an oasis of civilisation on the borderlands of settled realms. I thank you my friends for the honour you have done me and the House of Rone."
"This night, we release from service all those who have served me loyally and wish to seek again their own destiny. I repeat my offer of service to you again, for I would be proud to let you parade the colours and carry the banner of my house once more. Let all who wish to leave my service step forward with no threat of malice but only our gratitude for helping us to take this first step into a better future. Let the ceremony begin."
Some dozen figures step forward into the firelight. They carry armour and weapons wrapped as bundles in dark green cloaks. For each man or woman returning stands one garbed in the very armour that they are relinquishing, and these soldiers who have elected to stay receive the armour from those about to depart. Standing to the side, a figure of power in a distinctive ram horned helm states loudly and clearly so that all can hear.
"I hereby deem your Oath fulfilled. By the will of the Lord Yanafal Tarnils you are hereby released from its bond to seek with honour whatever destiny you freely choose. I, Daine, Chief of Mercenaries offer you my thanks for your honourable service. I wish each and every one of you a good life and a sweet one. My thanks."
Now, with the solemn ceremony over, a more informal celebration begins, and gives each of you the chance to reflect on your bonded service to Duke Raus of Rone...
It was Fire Season of 1614 when you departed Pavis. At this time the party consisted of Aransar McGae (Steve), Eric Fitzarnal (Steve C), Callum Blax (Paul), Orstanor Estavsson (Phil), Brand Banesson (Mario) and Kurtulmak (Julian). You were now members of the Duke's mercenary zebra cavalry, and had been training for the role for almost all of the previous season. The journey south was across the area known as the Long Dry, for the Duke had refused to pay the toll that the Sun Domers had cited for such a large and well armed retinue. As the group arrived at Weis Cut, you, the First Wing, were sent on the first of many border patrols. Yours was a special mission however, since you would be informing those you met of the new power in the region, and would be dispensing the Duke's justice for the first time. The Duke headed for the oasis of Horn Gate to acquire slave labour for his building projects.
The first people you met were the Agimori. An ancient and proud race descended from the children of Lodril who came to fight chaos in the God Time. Their chieftain was cagy but prepared to accept the Duke's rule, but required that you adjudicate in a dispute with the large tribe of Morokanth to the south. One of their hunters had been captured by the Morokanth, and as punishment was to be made a herd-man. This was a difficult judgement to arbitrate, but the party, led by Aransar, the Wing Officer, swore to try.
The Morokanth were belligerent and indignant, but agreed to abide by the Duke's decision. Aransar sided with the Agimori, who regained their tribesman and subsequently became firm allies of the Duke, but it left the far more numerous Morokanth bitter and angry.
Whilst reconnoitering an ancient and reputedly vampire haunted stone tower, the party was attacked by a group of indigent Tusk Riders. Charge and counter charge led to a surprisingly one sided conflict which saw the Tusk Riders annihilated, most notably including an astonishing fifty foot javelin throw by Orstanor that went straight through the head of an escaping half Troll. Although it became apparent that the Tusk Riders were occupying the tower, the party continued their circuit, and finally arrived at their new home a few days later to find the other mercenaries settling in to the tents that would be their shelter.
The days began to take on a routine of patrols and training, but the first real mission was to rid the river of a band of outlaw ducks that had been preying on river traffic. The Duke's tenure of his domain was dependant upon his ability to prevent banditry on the river, and he had been investigating the existence of these Durulz with his priest and had found their lair. The first wing would assault the lair to kill the ducks. Any managing to escape would be hunted and killed by the Duke's newtling mercenaries. The ducks were refugees from Sartar, sentenced to death by the Lunars as part of the armistice after Starbrow's rebellion. This presented moral problems for Aransar and Eric who had been a part of the rebellion and were well aware of the unjust nature of the armistice which made the ducks scapegoats. The attack went ahead however, and the ducks were all slain and their lair looted.
A few weeks later, you were summoned to the Duke's audience hall, where you were told of events that were causing the Duke great trouble. The Duke, although from Peloria, was an ancestor worshipper, and no convert to the Red Moon. It was this intransigence that had forced him to sell his family lands and move into exile on the River of Cradles. His rod of office that legitimised his rulership of his new lands in the eyes of the empire was The Wand of the Seven Phases of the Moon, but knowing it was ceremonial in nature, the Duke had secreted it in his Pavis townhouse. This had been stolen by person or persons unknown, and represented a grave threat to the Duke's authority and credibility in the area.
The party was dispatched to Pavis to pick up the trail and return the item. Kurtulmak, a fluent Praxian speaker was reassigned to another wing as their translator. On the way to Pavis, they discovered the body of a Lunar messenger. He had been cleanly beheaded and his body mutilated and infected with spirits of disease. Callum retrieved a satchel and acquired a strange document in an unreadable language. Once in Pavis the party split up to investigate multiple sources. At Loud Lilina's they encountered their old companion Gringle, who was looking for work and decided to string along with his old friends in the hope of gaining employment with the Duke. Their sources in the riverside underworld indicated that the theft wasn't carried out by any of the local thieves. Rumours of outsiders trying to fence certain objects that carried the ducal crest were uncovered, however, which led the party to head into the rubble to the hold of the Mani clan. The Mani clan was helpful, stating that they were indeed offered the Wand for sale by three westerners, two men and a woman, but had refused to buy such obviously important and coveted relics. They seemed to think that the westerners had left town. Divinations at the Lhankor Mhy temple led the party to the conclusion that the three had hailed from the city of Refuge in God Forgot, and they immediately planned a route to follow them.
They headed west through Prax and arrived at Jonstown where they heard rumours that the Lunars had tried to install Temertain as King of Sartar, but he had failed to light the flame. Taking the road to Boldhome they were ambushed by Ogre worshippers of the Cacodemon, who demanded a toll in return for not casting sever spirit spells at Gringle. Eric interposed himself between the two, and when the melee erupted, was struck down and slain whilst protecting his friends. The party won the fight, but both Eric and Gringle were slain. Gringle was tragically close to receiving adequate healing before he shuffled of his mortal coil and went to join Minlinster in the revered brewer's ale halls.
The party constructed a pyre for their fallen comrades and toasted their departure with songs and drinks. Then, with heavy hearts they entered Boldhome, the city in the mountains. They heard more stories of the failure of Temertain, and the ceremony which surrounded it which even Dragons came to witness. The sad sight of the capitol of Sartar invested with Lunars was in stark opposition to the majesty of the city of Whitewall, where Brand had served as a huscarl before heading east. Brand was able to organise lodgings for the party and they soaked up the atmosphere of a free Orlanthi city for the first time in their lives. The walls of the city were shaped as the Air Rune and the patron temples of the Volsaxi and Kitori Tribes sat at the summit of the hill.
It was a few weeks before the party had travelled through Heortland and into the city of Refuge which they had visited briefly before. This city felt very alien, but they managed to find lodgings and to begin to investigate rumours of the theft. They discovered that the Lunar Empire had been instigating a series of not too covert proxy attacks on the interests of powerful figures in the God Forgot area which had culminated in the capture by Lunar-paid mercenaries of lronfort. The Lunars had also endeavoured to marry one of their priests with a local water spirit goddess and thus gained a foothold in Seapolis as well. Some of the local Brithini had taken exception to this, and had employed adventurers from Refuge to attempt to disrupt Lunar expansion to the south. The attempt to disrupt the ceremony at Seapolis had failed, but Mizraith, a Brithini sorcerer, was still trying to thwart the Lunars. His employees could be found in The Maze, the most dangerous and run down part of the city. The party entered the maze well armed, and this was enough to discourage the many urban predators that lurked in the shadows. They found the tavern 'The Vulgar Unicorn' and managed to meet with the thieves who had stolen the Wand. Aransar had sagely identified the three as simply adventurers trying to make a profit, and negotiations, although tense at first were quickly concluded. The leader of the thieves stated that they were commissioned to steal the Wand to order and to bring it back to Mizraith who lived in the old Dungeon tower. They warned the party that Mizraith was extremely powerful and not to be crossed, but mentioned that he was implacable enemies with another Brithini sorcerer, Enas Yorl, who might be of a mind to help the party.
They located Enas Yorl's residence, and he agreed to use magic to mask the party's entrance into the dungeon, but he had a request. He had two retainers, brothers in fact, who had outlived their usefulness, but he felt honour bound not to kill them. The party were to take them from Refuge in payment for his magical support. They gained entry to the tower through Enas Yorl's levitation magic, and the brothers' thiefly skill, and managed to locate the crypt where the Wand was stored. Greed overcame one of the brothers, and he foolishly opened a crypt which was warded, dying instantly.
Fearing that the sorcerer had been roused when a strange mist began billowing down the stairs, the group grabbed the Wand and fled, leaving Refuge as soon as they could to avoid any magical revenge. They took the same route back leaving the other brother at Whitewall. The journey back was uneventful, and the party, now numbering just four, were ambushed just south of Dagori Inkarth by trolls mounted on spiders. They eventually won through and returned the Wand to the Duke's residence.
On returning to the Duke's fort, they discovered terrible news. The Duke's wife Lady Varna had succumbed to a powerful disease spirit, sent as a curse by a Malia worshipping human driven from these lands many years ago. Her name was Muriah, and it was gleaned that a tribe of broos had established a base in a group of caves and had been poisoning the Vilinar River, bringing disease to the community. The party discovered the caves and slew all of the broo, but of their fabled witch queen there was no trace.
This was the last major even to hit the domain in 1614. As the settlers began to arrive, and building supplies were ferried downriver from Pavis, the duke's plans of a small town began to take shape. As word spread that civilisation had come to the southern part of the Zola Fel, many of the more belligerent races of Prax began to leave the area. Of course there were the occasional skirmishes with morokanth and broo, and even a standoff with some Yelmalians over border rights, but the remainder of 1614 passed without notable event or news from afar. Now, as Sacred Time draws to a close and the year 1615 begins, it is time to reclaim your freedom from service and to forge your own destinies once more...