Adv Log, Session 35: Lytan's Mill

General Summary

Lifesday, Leafturn 13, 879 AFE


Their newly acquired botanical treasures safely stowed, the crew used their oars to push the boat out from the protective rocks, and back out into the main current of the river. Poppy mentioned that they should reach Lytan’s Mill by midday the next day. So far, there had been no real delays on the trip, and their timing was about what they had been expecting.


The day was hot; the temperature at night hadn’t dropped below warm. Eykit and Taid had, as usual, slept in their armor, so were tired and achey. They hadn’t been getting good sleep lately; wearing thick armor, metal or not, was uncomfortable at best. But some sleep was better than none, and neither of them were interested in sleeping comfortably if they weren’t protected.


There was a slight breeze, so the sail was out in an attempt to alleviate some of the effort of rowing. It helped, a little.

Ruby was having a bad day on the water, and spent most of the day with her face hanging over the bulwark, losing her breakfasts and elevenses. She was miserable.


At about midday, they came upon a meadow along the river. It wasn’t a large meadow; jungles tend to swallow up open spaces where the light can penetrate as the plants compete for it. The meadow was maybe fifty meters long by twenty deep, in a rough semicircle.


Elitheris saw it first, from her position on the bow. There were glints of lights sparkling between the fronds and leaves of the low plant cover that made up most of the meadow. Almë even saw what appeared to be a crossguard, implying that the glints were metallic, and possibly discarded weaponry. As they got closer, they could see signs of excavation, possibly a pit.


“We should see if there is any loot over there!” Almë said.


Captain Tinyfoot overheard, sighed, then shrugged, and pushed the tiller over to guide the boat towards the shore. These passengers, she thought, seemed to always want to delay their trip. So be it, as long as they don’t take too long.


“You’ve got fifteen minutes!” she called to them. She didn’t really think the Elves would pay attention; she wasn’t sure they even knew what “fifteen minutes” even meant. Assuming they even could recognize a minute. Elves didn’t really get that granular with their timekeeping. But the Hobbit, Dwarf, and Goblin knew, and hopefully would corral the Elves in time. The rowers needed a break anyway, so it was a good time to stop.


She piloted the boat until the port side lay up against the bank, held in place by a pair of oars shoved into the river mud on the starboard side. Padraig and Aaron lashed their oars in place, and sat back down on the benches. They could be ready to go in moments, much faster than if they tied off the boat.


Almë, of course, was first off the boat. Ruby followed, whistling for Norolind. He leapt off of the boat, causing it to rock a bit. She found a suitably sized rock to sit on and wait for her stomach to settle.


“Hey!” Eykit complained from his perch on the starboard pile of cargo. Being a bit higher than everyone else, he moved a bit more when the boat shifted. For an instant, the thought of being knocked overboard filled him with terror. If he fell in, he’d likely drown before he could escape his armor, the weight of which would pull him down like an anchor.


Elitheris took Mister Wiggles for a bathroom break. Besides, she was there to make sure Almë didn’t get into any trouble. She had her bow out and an arrow nocked, just to be safe.


Taid cocked his crossbow, just in case, watching Almë, Ruby, and Elitheris from the boat. Eykit watched from his perch on the cargo pile. He kept an eye and both his ears out for trouble. Almë and company would be able to take care of themselves, but he watched anyway, just in case.


Almë cast the spell of Plant Vision, and looked around the meadow and adjacent jungle. He saw the usual animals, but nothing out of the ordinary. He saw the things that were causing the reflections: broken weapons, mostly, with a few other things like buckles and tools as well. Bent swords, snapped spears, an old, pitted axe head. There were some arrows stuck in some nearby trees; apparently they had missed their targets and gone wide. Near the middle of the meadow was the pit, and he wandered over to it. It was about two and a half meters deep, and filled with bamboo stakes, cut at an angle to make them sharp and dangerous. There was also a body down there, impaled on the spikes. Looking closely, he could see that the tips of the spikes had something smeared on them.


The smell wasn’t great, and made his stomach lurch. He could hear the flies swarming around the body. If he hadn’t been recovering from his seasickness, it likely wouldn’t have bothered him, but he was susceptible to it at the moment, and he turned away to breathe fresher air. The body had been down there a few days, and showed signs of rot and bloat.


Almë cast the spell of Shape Earth, and the magic caused the body and the spikes to rise up on a column of dirt until it was at the level of the ground, at which point he moved it over to a space next to the pit. He searched the body, although he noticed that the pockets had been turned out. Looted already, then, he thought, but ho! What’s this?


He had noticed that there was something magical around the body’s neck. He could see and feel that there was some kind of lump under the dead man’s shirt. Almë pulled down the neck of the shirt to get a better view. There was a necklace, made of a cheap leather thong with some colored wooden beads. The pendant was a rather attractive piece of sandstone, striated with pale reds, tans, and warm browns. A hole had been bored through the center.


He pulled the necklace over the body’s head. He held it up, looking at it. He had no idea what it did. He shrugged, and put it on. Nothing happened. It didn’t contract and choke him, and he had no desire to never take it off again, and it didn’t feel like it was weighing him down as if it were heavier than it looked. No, it was a simple necklace made of cheap materials that any young child could have found.


He didn’t know what it did, but he could tell it was working. He shrugged, and looked around the meadow. The broken weapons implied that there had been some kind of battle. Hard fought, but not large. Odd that there were so many broken weapons. Weapons, unless cheap or damaged, didn’t tend to break that often. And most swords could be straightened with a foot and an oath.


He shrugged again, and made his way back to the boat.


They pulled up the two oars holding the boat in place, and continued upriver. Ruby wasn’t as sick as she had been earlier, most likely due to evacuating her stomach of all of its contents earlier. She was hungry, but preferred that to feeding the fish.

The river made another one of its lazy S-curves. Reeds and lily pads had colonized the sweeping banks, forming a marshy area. The amount of insect life was huge, including the mosquitoes, which seemed to be in a feeding frenzy as the boatload of warm, blood-filled people passed by. Everyone was attacked, and busy swatting at the bugs as they lit on their skin.


Except for Almë. The bugs didn’t seem to go after him. They seemed to be avoiding him, and going after everyone else.


He fingered the necklace. “Hah! So that’s what you do,” he said to it.


It took a few minutes to row away from the swampy area and the increased density of bugs. But by then, everyone has several bites causing welts on their skin, except for Almë. He had been bug free.


As late afternoon rolled around, and the crew was tired from rowing pretty much all day, they pulled over to the bank to camp.


Almë checked the perimeter for animals and dangerous plants. He didn’t find any. Taid cast the spell of Mystic Mist, as usual. And, according to standard procedure, the crew went about making camp, setting aside some areas for their passengers to lay down their bedrolls and set up their tarps.


Elitheris, used to this kind of thing, helped Eykit, who was absolute rubbish when it came to bushcraft. He was a city boy, and had no idea how to set up a tarp over a sleeping roll in order to shed rain.

She would be glad when she could go back home, and get back to the court and out of the fieldwork. In fact, she knew she could go back at any time. But there was something afoot here, with these new companions. They may have stumbled upon some thing important, even if only be accident. So she would stick it out, at least until she was able to determine that it wasn’t a problem for the Empire.


Ruby needed some help as well, being a city girl. In her mind, camping was for peasants and emergencies. Today, the emergency was a complete lack of civilized shelter. At least it was warm; it would have been more uncomfortable had it been a winter up near Adayn.


Taid and Almë had learned basic bushcraft during their stints in the army. Elitheris, of course, had been living out in the bush for decades. She actually preferred it to being in a smelly, crowded city. She was enjoying herself, actually, being back out in the wilderness. She felt at home. She never really felt like she fit in when she was in Port Karn. Too many things she just didn’t fully understand about how it all worked and what what expected of her. But the wilderness was simple, and she knew where she stood.


She did have to admit, however, that she really appreciated the much more secure campsite when Taid was using Mystic Mist. It kept the wildlife out, making the camp much, much more safe, by making intruding animals afraid of it. She found that she was sleeping much better than she ever had when out by herself.


It was another night of sitting around the campfire. Padraig spent the time whittling a stick. When asked, he said it was going to be a perching hawk, but it didn’t look like much yet. Stories were told, and songs were sung. Gear was repaired or polished in the few hours before crawling into their bedrolls.


Taid actually slept out of his armor, as he was getting tired of not getting good, consistent sleep. Sleeping in armor was fine for a while, but do it too long and your fighting effectiveness dropped.


Almë took one of the mid-watches, taking over after Trumak Drandarburz’s shift, and being relieved by Rollo Tinyfoot. It was an uneventful night.


Spiritsday, Leafturn 14, 879 AFE


They had a quick breakfast of cold rations, loaded up the boat with their gear, themselves, Wilbur, and the two dogs, and Poppy and her crew cast off.


It was partly cloudy, and there were occasional light rain storms. At the first sign of precipitation, the crew put up some tarps to protect the rowing benches. The rain helped a little with the heat, until it stopped raining, and then the humidity was miserable.


The jungle, as usual, was a variegated wall of greens. Occasionally, smaller streams fed into the Grushagûl River. They could see various forms of wildlife, including birds, primates, a boar, and even a pair of crocodiles sunning themselves on the muddy riverbank. Poppy steered the boat on the far side of the river from them. No need to rile them up. One of them was longer than the boat was.


They came around a curve, and a statue came into view. It looked old, and the jungle had grown over the plinth it was on. As they continued around the curve, the second statue became visible, on the opposite bank. It too was a statue of an Orc warrior.

Both were done in an angular, abstracted style carved in grey granite, and each wore a feathered collar done in mosaic. Many of the colored stones and glass of the mosaic were missing, lost over the centuries. The statues were sculpted with hide loincloths, and feathered wrist decorations, also done in multicolored mosaics. They were posed standing with their arms down at their sides, grim looks on their angular, tusked features, and looking across the river at each other. They each stood about four meters tall.


Almë, something of an artist himself, gazed at them with an artist’s eye. They were old, but he could tell that the sculptor, or sculptors, were skilled. These guys were not made yesterday, he thought. But other than that, he couldn’t tell much about them.


Taid could tell that the stone used to carve them was local, he’d seen stone like that in various places along the river. And nothing in the mosaics looked like it had been imported. Of course, he wasn’t able to get out of the boat and closely examine them, but from what he could tell, everything was locally sourced.


“Those are sometimes called the ‘Lytan’s Gateway’,” Captain Poppy Tinyfoot said as they passed between them. Although they predate the town, I think.”


“What’s their story?” Ruby asked.


“I don’t know. Some kind of monument. A tourist attraction. I’ve never asked. But they’ve been here a long time. I’m sure there is someone in Lytan’s Mill that will tell you, though.”


“They won’t harm us, right?”


Poppy looked at her with confusion. “Harm you? Why would a statue harm you? They aren’t cursed, as far as anyone knows. They are just carved pieces of rock.”


“You never know,” Ruby said with a shrug.


“I know a garden gnome and a nymph that would say otherwise,” Taid muttered.


“If you want to know more,” Poppy said, “there is a lore master in Lytan’s Mill that could tell you.”


It was only another hour or so to Lytan’s Mill. It was a large town, controlling the confluence of two branches of the river. One was the Grushagûl River, as it continued west towards the mountains; the other was the Zaar River, which headed eastward, towards Mount Ecrins.


As they neared town, they started to see farms, scattered here and there in the jungle near the river. Unlike the area around Port Karn, which was a patchwork mosaic of farmland, cleared from the jungle over centuries, the farms around Lytan’s Mill were more spread out, and each in its own pocket of cleared land. Each one was surrounded by jungle. Most likely, the land owned extended past the farmland, but hadn’t been fully cleared of jungle yet.


The farmlands had various crops, ranging from grains, vegetables, and livestock. Notably, they also saw several farms with strings of hops growing on them.


Lytan’s Mill was partially walled since there were no walls over the rivers. The walls were about ten meters high, made of stone, and old. Most of the town was behind the walls, with most buildings being 3-4 stories in height, and very close together. It felt crowded. Outside the walls on the east side was an unwalled section of town, although it did have a 20’ palisade wall erected to keep wild animals out.


It was a town with a population of around 8000 residents, overwhelmingly Human, but with populations of Orcs, Hobbits, Goblins, and Dwarves, with a very small Elven population. Over two thirds of the people they saw as the boat entered town were Human. They saw few Orcs, being daylight and all, but did see a few Hobbits and a couple of Goblins.


The main family was, of course, the Lytan family, who founded the city long ago, starting out as lumber barons. Lumber was no longer the city’s primary export, however, although lumber products and paper made up a sizable fraction of their trade.


They also exported fine beers, and had three breweries in the city, each with some unique brews. There was a local hops that wasn’t grown anywhere else that gave the beers a fruity-savory flavor that was unlike anything else. Its complex notes worked very well with the other beer ingredients. Many of the beers were shipped to Port Karn, along with other places in the Empire.


The town was broken up into the west side, made up of the section of city along the west bank of the Grushagûl, the east side, made up of the section of town east of the rivers Grushagûl and Zaar, and the south side, the section between the two rivers.


While there were docks pretty much all along both rivers, the main commercial wharves were between the west and south parts of town. This was where most of the warehouses were, some of which were used for locally produced goods, but most were for the short term storage of materials that were in transit through the town, but needed to wait for a transport ship to pick them up.


They passed through two draw bridges as the Water Lily made its way southward. The Bridge of Hope, which was a graceful arc of stone, and Lytan’s Bridge, a much older, squarer bridge. There were two bridges crossing the Zaar River, a wooden trestle bridge simply called the Wooden Bridge, and a stone bridge imaginatively called the Draw Bridge. Only one bridge connected the west side to the south side of town, a large, high bridge called the Bridge of Stone. The bridge was wide enough to have small shops lining both sides, built right up to the edge of the drawbridge sections.


As the boat neared, bells were rung, and they could see people moving quickly off of the center spans. A moment later, and before everyone was completely off of the draw bridges, they began to rise to make space for the Water Lily’s mast. The boat floated between the bridge piers, the eight rowers propelling the boat as quickly as they could, in order to allow the draw bridge to come back down again.


As the mast cleared the drawbridges, the two parts of the drawbridge began to lower. Poppy eyed the docks, looking for a berth. She angled the boat into the quays, and the rowers stood, paddling more than rowing. It was getting a bit crowded, and the oars would start interfering if they weren’t kept close to the boat. Poppy and her crew were good enough to let momentum carry them to their berth, with only minimal corrections using the oars.


They tied up the boat. A lot of the cargo they carried was destined for Lytan’s Mill, and they had a contract to get cargo here to take to Sheepshear. That meant that their passengers, who were headed to Dwarfchat, would need to find another boat to take them in that direction.


Almë thanked the crew. They had been very pleasant, and good boat operators. Poppy inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Sorry you and your companion felt so lousy,” she said.


“Not your fault. My stomach rebels any time I’m on anything moving. It’s why I like to walk.”


She addressed all of her passengers. “We will be here overnight. There is a lot of cargo handling we will be doing here.


Ochassa, smiling, asked Eykit, “How long will you be in town?”


Eykit shrugged. “Don’t know. We need to find passage up to Dwarfchat.”


Ruby turned to Poppy. “Do you know anyone here we could trust?”


“We haven’t been here for about three eightdays, so we don’t know who’s currently in town. I haven’t seen any boats I recognize. I can give you a list of captains I know.”


“Can you give us a good recommendation?”


“Sure, if anyone asks, I’ll tell them that you are model passengers.” She wrote out a list of five names of captains that she knew, and trusted. “Here you go,” she said, handing the list to Ruby. “But like I said, they may not be here at the moment. The rivers are pretty big.”


“Thanks,” Ruby said.


“By the way,” the Captain continued, “there are five inns in town. Two in the east side, two in the west, and one in the south part of town. That one caters to sailors, so we will be staying there. It’s pretty bare bones, but it’s shelter, and it’s the cheapest place to stay. The ones on the east side are the Marbled Lady, which is pretty high end, and the Laughing Fox, which is mid priced, and caters to caravaners. The two in the west side are both mid range, Momma’s, and the Rain Song. The South Side Inn is, not surprisingly, in the south part of town.”


“Maybe we can stay at the Southside Inn, too,” Ruby said.


“We should probably find a boat first,” Almë suggested.


“I really want to go to the Laughing Fox,” Ruby said. “I like the name.”


Elitheris, Taid, and Eykit were getting their gear ready, separating it from the crews’ and the cargo. Eykit was making sure all of their botanical treasures were collected, and Taid was making sure that Wilbur was moved off of the boat, then loaded with gear. Elitheris assisted him. It took about a half hour to take care of that.


Ruby looked over the other boats at dock, looking for ones with a high proportion of Dwarves, thinking that might be their best chance at finding one going to Dwarfchat. But Dwarves made lousy sailors, as they tended to have a hard time swimming.


“One other thing,” Poppy told them. “There aren’t a lot of towns along the river to Dwarfchat. There are a few villages, and a handful of hamlets, but for the most part, it’s wilderness. Once you start getting close to Dwarfchat, there will be a few villages, but until then, it’s just a lot of jungle.”


There was also an overland road that more or less followed the river. But even with the best roads, the jungle kept taking it over, so the Army was always having to clear and repair it constantly. Every season they had to go back out there and try to hack away at the encroaching jungle to keep the roads open. It was why most of the trade was river-based, plus it was easier to carry cargo on boats than it was on pack animals and wagons, especially since it rained often, and the roads became muddy bogs.


Both Taid and Almë remembered their Imperial Army days, and long missions to keep the roads clear. They had been told it was for logistical purposes, so the military could get from one place to another quickly, but they knew it was also for mercantile travel as well. The Empire couldn’t survive without revenue, and without trade routes, revenue dropped quickly.


From Almë’s perspective, the army’s favorite spells were Wither and Shape Earth. He’d gotten a lot of practice with those two spells when he’d been enlisted.


The motley crew stood on the docks; five people, two dogs, and a horse. They looked around, strangers in a town they were unfamiliar with.


Almë patted Eykit on the back. “We are going to need a bigger boat. Let’s find one.”


“I don’t know if you noticed, but as we go upriver, the river will become smaller and smaller,” Elitheris said. “Because that’s how rivers work. So we may not want a bigger boat.”


They went looking, moving southward along the docks. To their left was a line of stone buildings, taverns and warehouses and the occasional shop that catered to sailors and boat owners. On their right side was the river, with its line of docks, mostly filled with boats of various kinds and sizes. There were several boats that would suit their needs, assuming that they could find one that was willing to take them all, plus their gear.


To everyone’s surprise, it didn’t take too long to find a suitable boat and crew. About an hour later, they saw a knarr that looked like it didn’t have much cargo on it, with the crew apparently just lounging about the boat and dock. No one was loading cargo, and what cargo they saw was already strapped down.


A dark skinned bald man in his thirties sat on the edge of the dock, his bare feet dangling, a fishing pole in his hands. He wore pants that went to mid-calf, and a vest with no shirt under it. He whistled as he put a bug on the hook, then flicked the rod with a gesture that indicated long practice.

An older man, in his forties, sat next to him, leaning against the pier piling. He had a sketchbook in his hands, and he made quick strokes with his pencil as he drew. “You realize that you likely won’t catch anything,” he told his companion. “Not here amongst the effluvia of the wharves.” He looked down into the water. It was a brownish color that wasn’t just silt. He sniffed. “I’m surprised anything lives in that.”

The black man eyed his older companion. “It ain’t about the catchin’, Jory. It’s the way I relax.”


“I know. I just don’t know why you chose to fish here.”


“Good a place as any. Besides, it’s by the boat. Cap’n likely doesn’t want us all scattered.”


“Aye. Hey, we got company.” He stood as the five humanoids and their various animal companions walked down the dock towards them.


They stopped at the gangplank.


“Can I help you?” Jory asked. “You look lost.”


“Not lost,” Taid said. “Just looking for passage to Dwarfchat.”


The bald man stood as well, holding the fishing pole loosely in one hand. “We’re going that way.”


“Do you have room for myself and all my companions?” Taid swept his hand around, indicating not only his humanoid friends, but his quadrupedal ones as well.


Artur scratched his bare scalp. “Maybe. You’ll need to talk to the Cap’n. He’s the guy with the cap.” He pointed to a man sitting next to the tiller, a book in his hands, reading.


Ruby called out, “Captain?”


The bearded man looked up from his book. “Yes, ma’am?”

“We’d like to book passage to Dwarfchat. We’d heard you were going that way.”


“We are.” The man, Captain Robert Gwendal, looked the odd group over. “We can take you. We’re waiting on the delivery of a final cargo. We plan to leave the day after tomorrow.”


“That is quite suitable, Captain. What’s the fare?” Almë asked.


Captain Gwendal looked them over, did some mental calculations, and said, “Seventy marks each, including the horse and both dogs.”


“Eykit, can you see if you can get a better price?” Ruby asked the Goblin softly.


He shrugged, and started talking to the captain. But the captain was being pretty stubborn, especially given the long journey and the hassle that the animals would pose. But they agreed on the price, and they would be setting sail the day after tomorrow.


“Welcome aboard the Dossit Float. Do you know anything about Dwarfchat?” he asked.


The group shook their heads.


He went on to expain, “Dwarfchat is considered to be the gateway to the Dwarven under cities of the Zirinibâr Mountains. A lot of traffic moves through there.”


“So anything we might need at the last minute would likely be found there?” Elitheris asked.


“Oh yes. You can probably find just about anything there, if you look hard enough and come with enough money. Although you can probably find quite a bit of stuff here, if needs be.”



Their next step was to get a room for the next two nights. Ruby wanted to head to the Laughing Fox, which was on the east side. Since they were currently on the west side of town, in the south, they headed towards the nearest bridge, which was the Bridge of Stone, which led into the south side of town.


The streets were narrow, and had few alleyways between the buildings. For the most part, the buildings were built right up to each other, forming blocks of segmented housing and shops. The more commercial and industrial buildings had a bit more space around them so that wagons could get in to move supplies and goods.


It didn’t take them long to cross from one end of south side to the other, and they crossed into the east side of town via the Wooden Bridge. They had to wait for the drawbridge to come down again after a sailboat had passed going downstream. It looked more like a pleasure craft than a working boat, but it was a nice, if hot, day, so it wasn’t surprising that one of the local landholders was spending some time sailing on the river.


They had to ask a few passersby where the Laughing Fox was, and it wasn’t too long before they arrived. It was a large building, with three stories. The entire first floor was the stables, and there was a large open space surrounded by a three meter high stone wall where wagons were parked. There were three privies lined up side by side in that open space, and there was a guard keeping watch over the laden wagons. The inn had a bath house attached at the back.


IN the front, there were two doors, one rather large, and one of a more normal size. They entered the normal sized door, seeing that the other one led to the stables. Taid and Elitheris stayed with Wilbur and the dogs, while Almë, Ruby, and Eykit went inside to inquire about rooms.


But, unfortunately, because there were some caravans passing through, most of the spaces in the beds were taken. The only way they could all sleep there was here and there in different rooms, sharing beds with strangers. And, it was a bit more expensive than they liked. They moved on. Ruby was a bit disappointed that the inn didn’t really meet their needs.


They went back over the bridge to the South Side Inn. It was the largest of the five inns in town, and the cheapest. It had no staterooms, and no suites, just eight rooms, each with two triple beds in them. Overflow space was provided in the common room, where people could spread out their sleeping furs. The inn was run by an old sailor named Corbin Aylesley, who “retired” from plying the river and opened up an inn.


On either side of the inn were two taverns. One was the Randy Stoat, and the other was the Puking Unicorn, complete with a sign that showed a wobbly-legged unicorn with its face in a bucket. After being on the river for a few days, Almë and Ruby sympathized.


Taid, Eykit, and Almë stayed at the South Side Inn. Taid got a room, while Almë and Eykit found some spots near the hearth in the common room. They put their gear with Taid’s in the room he was staying in.


Almë spoke to the innkeeper, introducing himself. “I was wondering how your day was going?”


Corbin Aylesley replied, “Well, young sir!” He smiled. Despite the Elf’s youthful looks, Corbin knew he was likely far older than he was. “Got pretty much a full house this evening. That’s all an innkeeper could want.”


“Is there anything to do in town?”


“Stuff to do in town? Plenty of stuff! There’s always stuff to do in town. Plenty of taverns to go to taverning in. There’s a library, if books are your thing. Dance halls, ballrooms. You could always go listen to some music. Oh, there’s an art gallery.”


“Anything more adventurous? Like a lost temple outside of town or something?”


“If you want that, you’d have to go take to the lore master. That would be Ralga Stouttusk, the local historian and lore master.”


“Any temples of doom?” Taid asked.


“Not that I’m aware of, no. No temples of doom. Although why you would want to go to one is beyond me. I myself try to stay away from doom. Doom can be bad for the health. But hey! You could do the pub crawl. There are three breweries in town. It’s one of our exports.”


There were three signs behind his counter. The first showed a hammer slamming into an anvil, where the head of the hammer was a beer stein.


“The three breweries are the Hammer and Anvil—“ he pointed the logo behind his counter. “There is the Hilltop Hideaway,” he said, pointing to the middle sign, which simply had the name of the brewery in a sweeping hand with flourishes. “And there is The Laughing Dragon.” He pointed to the third sign, which showed a fat and happy round-bodied dragon, laughing with mirth.


“I’m getting a beer,” Taid said. “Where is the Hammer and Anvil?”


The innkeeper gave him directions. Almë said he’d meet up with him later; he’d had a bad experience with alcohol, and didn’t want to repeat it.


“Alme,” Elitheris said, “hold off before going to the lore master. I’ll join you after we’ve gotten a room.”


Almë nodded, saying, “We’ll meed back here, then visit the lore master.”


Ruby and Elitheris, along with the dogs, went to the Rain Song Inn, which was on the west side. The state room was open, so they paid for the room for the night. The Rain Song was only three blocks away from the other inn on the west side, Momma’s, and between the two of them were two taverns. There was the Salty Dog Tavern, and the White Snail.


They asked the innkeeper which tavern was better. “The Salty Dog is generally cheaper of the two. Its food is poor, but serviceable. The White Snail is a little more expensive, and it has serviceable drinks, decent food, but with good portions.”


“Thank you,” Ruby said.


Elitheris headed off, back to the South Side Inn to meet up with Almë.


Taid got directions from the innkeeper, and headed off to the Hammer and Anvil Brewery. He wanted a beer, and from what he’d heard so far in this town, they were pretty proud of their beers. The town wasn’t huge, so it didn’t take him long to get there.


It was a tall stone building that looked like it had once been a warehouse. There were two doors, a loading door and a main entrance door. The loading door was open, and he could see a wagon just inside, hitched to two horses, the back bed full of barrels. Judging from the flattened leaf springs that were attached to the axles, those barrels were full. Workers moved to and fro, some with hand carts, some rolling barrels across the cement floor.


He went into the main entrance. Inside, it looked something like a sparsely furnished tavern. Along one wall was a bar, with stools placed in front of it. Scattered about the large room were some tables with chairs. It was about half full, with several bar stools and a couple of tables empty. He walked to a bar stool, and hopped up on it. He had noticed that the stools were adjustable, by spinning the seat. A threaded screw then allowed the seat to raise or lower, as the patron preferred. Looking around, he could see a Hobbit sitting on one, the seat raised to what must have been its highest setting.


His seat was a bit low, but only by a few centimeters, and he didn’t really care. He was focused on the beer. Across the wall behind the bar were several signs, detailing what beers the brewery made, and which ones were on tap at the moment.


“What is your best beer, and how long will it take to be gone?” Taid asked the Dwarf who was bartending.


The bartender smiled. “What kind of beer do you like?”


“I don’t know. They are all good.”


“Well, why don’t you try this?” The Dwarf turned, got a mug, and filled it from one of the tapped barrels. A dark, frothy ale poured into the mug. He let it settle, then filled it a bit more. Then he placed it in front of Taid. “Four marks.”


Taid paid, then sipped. Then he took a deeper drink. It was indeed good. One of the better ales he’d had since leaving Zirak Dûm, actually. “This is good,” he said, just before taking another draught.


“Thought you might like it,” the bartender said, as he moved off to help another customer.


The first beer was a good start, but Taid wanted to at least get a buzz. He finished the dark ale, and signaled for the bartender.


“What’s your second best beer?” Taid asked him.


“Well. We have this blonde ale.”


“Blondes are more fun.”


“That one is also really good. A favorite of the locals.”


“I’ll try one.” He paid his four marks, and got his mug refilled with a beer with a light golden hue. It was also tasty, in a brighter, less malty way than the first. There were more floral notes, likely a result of the local hops. Taid could even start to feel the buzz he’d been looking for, but only barely. He sipped his beer, enjoying its flavor and mouth feel, letting the cool, refreshing liquid slide down his throat.


Elitheris and Ruby, after taking care of getting their room at The Rain Song, went back to the South Side Inn to meet up with Almë. Almë was waiting for them in the common room, meditating to pass the time.


“Is Eykit coming? Or did he go drinking with Taid?” Elitheris asked.


Almë gave a crooked smile. “Eykit is rather busy, I think, with that Goblin girl from the boat. I think he’s taking his time saying goodbye.”


“Huh. Okay. Ready to go?”


“Yes,” he said, standing up. “To the lore master and adventure! Maybe she will tell us of secret temples and monster lairs to raid.”


“You realize we have to be on a boat the day after tomorrow, right?” Ruby said. “We don’t have time for adventures.”


“There is always time!” Almë’s bravado was evident.


Ruby shook her head, realizing he was an Elf. He was alway seemingly in a rush that she sometimes forgot about his inability to realize time constraints. It was one of the things that had always made her nervous in her political dealings back in Adayn. The Elven nobles tended to plan for the long term, often setting up plans and schemes generations ahead of when they would be realized. It made them very, very difficult to spot, since they were subtle, and seemingly unconnected to anything. On the other hand, their plans took so long that they weren’t really her problem. She’d be long dead before they came to fruition.


They made their way to Ralga Stouttusk’s residence, by the simple expedient of asking a few questions of people that looked like locals. Her house was on the west side, in the northern part of the city. It stood four stories tall, like most of the buildings in town, made of stone and narrow.


They knocked on the door. An old Orc woman answered it.

Ralga Stouttusk


“Hello,” Ruby said. “We heard you were the lore master and might know a few things.”


“Hah! Is that what they say?” Ralga replied, her voice low and husky. “Well, my young friends, they are correct!”

She looked the three of them over, noticing the two dogs as well. “Humph. The dogs stay outside. Come in, come in.” She backed into the room, holding the door open.


The bottom floor was a small museum, filled with old things and objects of local significance, and feeling like an antique store. It smelled of old dust, wood, and rust, with an overlay of musky lilac. The floral scent came from Ralga’s perfume.


None of the things looked all that interesting at first glance. There was an axe head with a broken handle, with a tag dating it to 455 AFE. There was a doll, made of wood and cloth dated 564 AFE. A few pieces of silverware, a collection of old ceramic pots, some cutlery, several pieces of mostly-intact furniture, and similar items, all with a tag with a date on it.


“Sorry, but I don’t have chairs for you all to sit in. But I hope you don’t mind if I sit.” She sat in a comfortable looking overstuffed chair with worn upholstery and frayed seams. “But my old bones can’t seem to handle standing for long periods of time any more.” She settled herself, then asked, “What do you want to know of old Ralga?”


“We are travelers to the area,” Ruby said, “are there any dangers in the area? Rumors of any monsters?”


She cocked her head and looked at them. “If you want rumors, I would assume a tavern would probably be a better place to find those.”


“Good point,” Ruby said ruefully. “How about points of interest? Any stories, any history about the area? And if you have any information about Dwarfchat, that would be helpful.”


“Well, now, that’s more my field, although I don’t know much about Dwarfchat. Where are you from?”


“We came from Port Karn.”


“Ah, then you probably passed by the statues that make up the ‘Gate to Lytan’s Mill’?”


“Yes, we passed between them on the boat,” Elitheris said.


“We’ll get to those. First, some context.” She settled back inter her chair.



She told them about Lytan’s Mill. It was a large town, not quite a city, although some liked to think of it as a small city. But historians and city planners knew otherwise. It controlled the confluence of two rivers, the Grushagûl River, and the Zaar River. The main family there, was, of course, the Lytans. They still owned or controlled the most land in the area.

They had founded the city hundreds of years ago, starting off as lumber barons, supplying wood products and building supplies to towns and villages up and down the river. Lumber was no longer the primary export, although lumber and paper still made up a good portion. The exports had diversified, and included beer, treesilk, cinnamon, and cocoa. The beer used a special variety of hops that only grew in the local area, which gave their lagers and ales a unique taste.



She told them about the three breweries.

“Well,” Elitheris said, “I’m sure that Taid is having a good time beer tasting.”

“We do have really good beers in town,” Ralga said with a smile.


The area used to be part of a loose federation of Orcish tribes, before getting taken over by the Empire.


“Are there any mysterious temples in the area?” Ruby asked.


“You know, some tourism stuff we can do in two days,” Almë added.


“Do you know anything about the Shards?”


Ralga’s head swiveled back and forth and she was bombarded by questions. “Shards? I only know what other people know. People love to collect them, and they like to do things with them, and they have magical powers occasionally. Very occasionally. I haven’t been lucky enough to have any Shard combinations, but I’ve seen other people have them.”


“Oh? What kind?” Ruby asked.


“What kind of combinations? Oh, let’s see. On caused somebody’s hair to turn bright pink. All of their hair, apparently. Eyebrows, eyelashes, etc. And what was really fun about it was that they glowed in the dark.” She grinned, her tusks prominent. “Apparently they were the talk of the brothels for weeks.”


“Oh, nice. That’s fun.”


“As far as old temples, there aren’t any surviving. The jungle has had something like eight centuries to swallow them up. I’m sure if you looked hard enough you’d find some ruins, although you might have to excavate them. This whole area used to be the border between old Araterre and the lands of the Orc tribes. Lytan’s Mill is built on the ruins of an old Orc village, although nothing remains of it. It’s been completely built over.”


“What do you know about the statues of those two Orcs?” Ruby asked.


“The statues? No one remembers their names, or their tribes. But those two statues depict the champions of two warring tribes. The enmity had been great, and long lasting. Generations. The two tribes hated each other with the fierceness of stubborn Orcs. But one called out the other, requesting an honor duel to decide who won the war between them. And those two fought, with the tribes folk as audience. Axes clattered off of armor, and they beat on each other for a full day until their axes broke under the strain. They fought on with fists and tusks, and by the end of the second day, their armor had been torn to pieces and scattered about the clearing where they fought. Yet still they weren’t done, trading fist and kick and grunting in pain and defiance. By the end of the third day they could no longer move, and their screams of rage and pride turned into mere mutterings in their exhaustion. Now, the spectators, the members of both tribes, watched this glorious fight progress. Some even set up cook fires, and made food. By the end of the three days, the spectators had mingled, shared food and drink, and discovered that the other tribe wasn’t so bad. The shamans called the fight a draw, and made peace. They remained allies for generations. The two champions were honored with those two statues, placed on either side of the river, forever staring at one another. I like to think that the two champions became best friends, tenacious and persistent to the end. But who really knows?”


Almë asked, “Do you know what happened to the tribes?”


“No one does, really. My guess is that they intermingled with the other tribes in the area, then were conquered by the Tondenes. After that, they were part of the Empire. Smart decision, that. Gishi Tondene was pretty smart, for a conqueror. He could have kept his boot on everyone’s necks, but instead, he made the people he conquered citizens of his empire. So instead of instilling hatred, he ended up with loyalty. Eventually.”


“What would you say was the most interesting thing in the area?” Ruby asked.


“It’s a trading city, and is sort of a trading hub. So we see a lot of traders going in and out. They often have interesting things in their caravans. But I’m partial to the statues. They make me wonder if I am related to them in any way. My family has been here for generations. I also like the art museum.”


“The art gallery? What kind of art?”


“Mixed types. Paintings, drawings, sculpture. Some blown glasswork. It’s kind of all over the place. Lytan’s Mill is big, but not really big enough to have multiple art galleries that cater to subgenres.”


“Is it just nice art, or expensive art?”


“Yes,” Ralga said, smiling. “It could be either. Good art is usually expensive.”


They asked a few more questions about Lytan’s Mill. She gave them a list of inns, and some taverns to eat at. Then she gave them some more information about the city.


It was made of three parts, east, west, and south. There were two thieves guilds in the city, one controlling the west side, the other controlling the east side. The south side was shared, although really it was up for grabs. There used to be more guilds, but there were some mergers and takeovers, and some other ways of removing the competition, until there were only two left. The two guilds were the Red Bloods, and the Powers. The Red Bloods controlled the west side; the Powers controlled the east side. Both were deep into the local politics.


There was a fairly large Rural Watch contingent in Lytan’s Mill. The way the farms were scattered about made them more necessary.


“The Rural Watch covers just about all of the farming areas, with the exception of the Elven hermit who lives outside of town. In a treehouse.”


“An Elven hermit?”


“Yeah, an old wise woman. She lives outside of town to the west somewhere. She doesn’t like visitors though.”


“What is she wise in?” Elitheris asked.


“I don’t really know. She’s just called the ‘cranky Elven hermit’. But she’s old, and she’s and Elf. So she’s been around for a long, long time.”


Almë laughed. “The last time we met a cranky hermit next to a river, you all know what happened. Let’s throw the furniture party!”


“Does she sell something,” Ruby asked, “or is she just living there?”


“She’s an old Elf,” Ralga said simply.


“Or offer some services like healing or plant growing stuff? Anything like that?”


“Sorry, youngin. I don’t really deal much with old cranky pants. No one does. She doesn’t like visitors. Besides, she probably has acres of Elven boobytraps to prevent people from straying on her lands. It’s said she eats small children, but I find that unlikely. Although there were some disappearances a couple of decades ago.”



As soon as Eykit had gotten his gear settled at the South Side Inn, Ochasa grabbed him and said, “Let’s go for a walk.”


Not being one to argue in this case, Eykit simply smiled warmly and gestured her out the door, following. He admired her curves as she walked a few steps away from the door, then stopped to wait for him to come abreast of her before continuing.


She’d obviously been to Lytan’s Mill several times, and knew just where she was going. Eykit simply went along for the ride, just looking at the sights. Of course, Eykit being Eykit the Eel, he wasn’t looking at just the sights, but taking in everything he could about the area: the architecture, apparent wealth levels, state of repair, what kind of people were hanging out nearby, etc. Everything that a street urchin involved in “less than fully legal” enterprises would need to know.


And being the highly competent thief he was, none of this observation was at all apparent to his companion, as far as he could tell. Which was just how he wanted it. He wasn’t planning on any heists, but the habits of a lifetime that had kept him out of the prisons were hard to shut off, even if he had wanted to.


As they were walking together, hand in hand along the docks, enjoying the evening, something occurred to him. There wasn’t much of a City Guard presence. He’d seen plenty of Rural Watch uniforms, mostly outside of town, but even inside of town there were more Rural Watch than City Guard. He filed that away. It didn’t really make much sense at first glance, because it implied one of two things: either there wasn’t much crime, so a large City Guard presence was unnecessary, or something else was providing security for all of the traders and merchants who came through town.


Granted, the caravans usually had some guards, enough to discourage the casual banditry, but usually not enough to stop a determined band of brigands. But in town, people’s guards were lowered, since they were in “civilization”, and not in the wilderness.


And a large number of transients also meant that the locals had more to worry about, as transients were as likely to be thieves as merchants. So that left the thieves’ guilds, much like in Port Karn.


“Ochasa,” he asked, “you’re familiar with Lytan’s Mill, right?”


“Yeah,” she replied, “I’ve been through here a lot. It’s a main stop on our main routes.”


“That’s the Hearavgizan to Sheepshear run?”


“That’s one of them. We also go to Fleetmilk, and occasionally to Wormstead or Dwarfchat.”


“You guys go to Dwarfchat?”


“Yes, but not this run. You should have been with us last month. We had a courier run to Dwarfchat, and needed to take the more direct route. Not as profitable, but shorter. Then you wouldn’t have had to change boats. We could have had more time.” She patted him on the backside.


“Well, that would have been fun,” he admitted, grinning. “But what I was getting at was who keeps the peace here in town? I haven’t seen many City Guardsmen.”


She looked around. “Huh,” she said after a moment, “I never really thought about it, but you’re right. I haven’t seen many. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen very many.”


“But there are Rural Watch everywhere.”


“That I did notice, but I chalked it up to this being a small town in the middle of the wild jungle. There are times I wished we had a Rural Watchman on our boat crew.”


“What do you know about the local thieves’ guilds?”


“Not much, only enough to stay out of their way. The Red Bloods and the Powers don’t often mess with the crews of the merchant fleet. We sailors don’t have a lot of money, and the real prizes are the cargos on the boats, or the caravans. But they mostly just charge a tariff on all merchant traffic into the city. They have become almost legitimate. Their fingers are in everyone’s pockets.”


“Now that sounds more like what I would expect.”


“I think they have a lot of sway in the local politics. They are either getting money out of the local barons and landed gentry, or are putting money in, in the form of bribes. I mean, ‘donations’.” She paused a bit, as they walked, then said, “But I’m not a local, and I don’t always pay that much attention to the local power struggles.”


“What, you don’t listen to the gossip when you’re in town?”


“Oh, I listen. But I’m not here all that often, so what I hear often doesn’t really make a lot of sense. Unless it’s a juicy story that everyone is talking about. Then I can usually pick up enough contextual clues for the story to make sense.”


“And the two guilds are the Bloods and the Powers?”


“Red Bloods. And the Powers, yes.”


“Only two?” Eykit frowned. “I would have expected a few more than that. This is a town that is almost a city, after all.”


“Those are the only two that are left. I think there used to be more, but there were some turf wars that saw an end to the smaller guilds. Or they just got gobbled up in some merger. Either way, there are only two now. The Red Bloods control the west side of town, and the Powers control the east. They fight over territory in the south side.”


“Well, that explains a lot, thanks.” He hadn’t seen any overt lawlessness; no muggings, no brawls. So either it was one of those rare, calm nights, or the guilds worked more under the surface.


He’d been listening in on various conversations as he was walking and talking with his cute Goblin companion. It was another one of his little habits, developed over years of living on the streets. While there had been no overt statements, the implications and the feelings he got told him that the two guilds were rivals, and that they really didn’t like each other.


His guild, the New Square Skulls, had something of a rivalry with the Flower Street Harriers. They had avoided going to war with each other by playing an elaborate trick on the Harriers, involving the theft of the guild master’s portrait of his daughter.


The rivalry between the Red Bloods and the Powers was more intense, it seemed. From what he was able to infer, they might be at war. He wasn’t sure; he hadn’t been in town long enough to see any of the overt signs. He’d need to be alert; he didn’t need any entanglements with either of the two guilds. Which also meant no pickpocketing, theft, or muggings. It was likely that if he did any of those things, both thieves’ guilds would come down on him and make his life miserable. Part of him was a bit disappointed, although he hadn’t been planning anything criminal while he was here. It also meant, though, that he couldn’t indulge in a little spontaneous wealth acquisition, either.


He changed the subject away from criminal enterprises to something a little more romantic. “So, know any good places to eat?”


“Yes. A few. But I’m taking you to a street kitchen that serves some damn fine Gabriki Saari, despite the cook being Human.”


Gabriki Saari was grilled strips of beef and pork, in a spicy-sweet orange glaze, garnished with honey glazed and roasted crickets, and rolled up in leafy greens. Eykit hadn’t had it in years, although he was sure there were places in Port Karn that had it available.


“Sounds delicious,” he said.

It was. They had a nice dinner, and Eykit even bought a bottle of a light red wine to go with dinner. It wasn’t too heavy, and was light on the tannins, perfect for the citrusy meat dish without being overpowered by it. Dessert was a buttery, flaky pastry made with honey, nuts, cayenne pepper, with a touch of cinnamon and allspice, cut into bite sized triangles.

The street kitchen, Eykit discovered, was a place owned by a Goblin woman by the name of Tediito Jaddood, who had opened the business almost twenty years ago. She was old, and semi-retired, but she made sure that the cooks that came after her knew how to prepare the food properly.




“Ochasa, this place is a gem!”


“Yeah, I know! I think I eat here at least once every time we come through Lytan’s Mill. The Hariki Tanook is good, too.”


“Maybe I’ll have that tomorrow. I’m too full now.” Hariki Tanook was a kind of dumpling made with ground meats, hot peppers, onion, garlic, a collection of spices that included cinnamon and nutmeg, wrapped in dough made with bacon fat, boiled until mostly cooked, then finished in a frying pan to sear the edges. It was usually served with a collection of hot sauces.


They left, and continued their walk, passing over the Bridge of Hope. Ochasa stopped at the highest point, although she stepped to one side, dragging Eykit along. They stood on the edge of the drawbridge section, and didn’t want Eykit and herself being separated if it started to open up for a passing ship.


But being almost at the top of the arc of the bridge gave them a great view of the river. It was night, although their Goblin eyesight was very good in the dark.


“I find this spot to be pretty peaceful,” Ochasa said, turning to Eykit. Her arms went around him, and their lips met. Eykit simply enjoyed her company, and her ministrations.


Elitheris, Almë, and Ruby left the lore master’s place, meaning to talk to that cranky Elven hermit. Ruby wanted to bring gifts, which Elitheris and Almë both thought was a good idea. Perhaps bringing a gift would make the hermit less prone to turning them into frogs, or whatever.


Taid, after enjoying his drinks, had headed towards the lore master’s residence, which was the last place he knew his friends had visited. He hoped to rejoin them. He saw them walking down the lore master’s street, discussing something.


“Hey,” Taid said, attracting their attention. “You guys talk to the lore master?”


“Yep,” Almë said. “Now we are trying to figure out what kind of gift to buy the old cranky Elven hermit who lives outside of town and hates visitors.”


“Sounds like you’ll need a good gift.”


“Most likely.”


Several ideas were put forth, ranging from sweets to manufactured goods to bolts of cloth. Eventually, they settled on something simple, a collection of specialty foodstuffs unlikely to be something the hermit made herself.


But it was getting late, and Elitheris wanted to get some food at a tavern and then head to bed. They planned on going to visit the hermit the following day. Unlike Port Karn, with its high Orc and Goblin population, the shops in Lytan’s Mill tended to close at sundown. So anything they wanted to get for their “hermit’s peace offering” would have to be purchased in the morning anyway.


The four of them headed towards the White Snail tavern, along with their two dogs, which wasn’t far from the Rain Song inn. The food was fair, but it was filling, and not terribly expensive. They had to leave the dogs tied up outside, away from the entrance. The proprietor didn’t want the huge mastiff scaring away any customers. Not many people wanted to get too close to a dog the size of a pony.


After dinner, the group split up, going to their separate inns: women and dogs to the Rain Song Inn, the guys going to the South Side Inn. Eykit wasn’t there when Almë and Taid arrived. He apparently was spending his evening with Ochasa. At least, that was what they assumed. They figured he knew enough not to get into any trouble. The thought that he might be lying in some alley bleeding out didn’t occur to them.


Taid went to his space in the bed in the shared room. There was already one person in the bed, snoring. Taid recognized the sound, it was Alfgar, one of the rowers from the Water Lily. Taid climbed into bed on one side of him. He fell asleep quickly, a habit honed by his military days. Alfgar didn’t stir.


Almë found space at the hearth, stretched out on his sleeping furs, and slept. It was too hot to get into them, especially in the common room with the low fire in the hearth and the dozen or so people spread out on the floor on their bedrolls.


Ruby and Elitheris had managed to get a room for themselves and their dogs, and they went straight to bed after dinner. The bed was actually rather comfortable, and it didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.


It was a couple hours before midnight when the people at the South Side Inn were awoken by a loud KERRUMP! That was followed by the sounds of screaming and shouting.


The common room erupted into activity, as the people sleeping woke up in a panic, coming to their feet, looking around to see what was happening. Orange light flooded through he wavy diamond paned windows, and movement could be seen outside. Someone had the presence of mind to throw open a window, and stick their head out to see what was happening.


“Shit! Fire!” he shouted, pulling his head back in. “Down the street! Buildings are burning!”


Elitheris and Ruby were both awakened by a loud noise. They looked at each other in the darkness, trying to figure out what had happened. Then they realized that it wasn’t all that dark. There was an orange light coming through the window.


A few moments later, and they could hear alarm bells ringing all over town. They scrambled out of the bed, and opened the window to look out. The dogs were awake, alert, but neither were barking, at least, not yet.


To the south, over the south side of the city, they could see a huge cloud of flame and smoke, rising up into the air like a big mushroom. While they couldn’t be sure, with their limited knowledge of the city, it looked like it might be close to the South Side Inn, and their friends. They hurried to get dressed.


“We’ve got to get over there,” Ruby said, worried about Taid, Eykit, and Almë. She threw the saddle onto Nori, cinching it tight, and grabbed her pack as Elitheris got her things together. Then they headed towards the south side and the fire.


Almë and Eykit scrambled to get their gambesons on. Everyone else in the room was running for the door.


Taid looked out the window, craning his head around. The explosion, and fire, had been at the end of the street. People were running about, shouting, trying to get bucket brigades set up. The river was about two blocks away, so the brigade was taking a while to organize and set up.

Taid was happy it wasn’t the brewery, but he had no idea what building was the epicenter of the raging inferno.


The three of them got out onto the street, and they could feel the heat from the fire a block away.


Taid ran towards the fire, where people were milling around looking like they were getting organized. His plan was to help with the bucket brigade. He found a barrel, dumped out the miscellaneous hinges, nails, and hardware that had been in it, and ran as fast as he could to the river. There he filled the barrel with water, hefted the mostly full barrel, and made his way back to the fire.


When he got to within three buildings of the fire, he set it down. “Use this to fill your buckets!” he shouted to the crowd. Then he looked for another barrel, which didn’t take long, because he conscripted a couple of youngsters to help him find one. That would allow him to fill an empty barrel, while the firefighters could use the full one.


The explosion and fire had completely destroyed the building, and heavily damaged the surrounding buildings. The neighboring buildings were also on fire. Burning embers were raining down all over the neighborhood, threatening to light those roofs on fire as well.


The water was slow in coming, having to come from the river, and a bucket brigade that long took some time to get working. But Taid’s barrels helped quite a bit as several people with buckets began dunking their buckets in the barrel.


Ruby and Elitheris arrived at the South Side Inn, and saw Almë standing in the street about twenty meters away from the blaze. They headed towards him, glad that the Inn and their friends seemed unhurt. There had been no reason to think that the South Side Inn had been the target, but Elitheris wasn’t taking any chances, and Ruby’s background as a court bureaucrat had primed her to think the worst and assume she and her friends had been the targets.


Ruby dismounted her pony-sized dog and told him to stay in front of the building, far from the blaze. Elitheris told Mister Wiggles to stay as well, but leashed him to Norolind. It wasn’t that he didn’t obey commands as well as Nori did, it was just that Nori was less excitable.


They could see people running around, some trying to fight the fire, and several others just milling about, apparently just watching the fire, staying out of the way. They moved towards the flames, and saw Almë standing, watching the firefighters, not far away from the burning buildings.


Now that they were closer, they could see several people apparently in shock, just standing there or sitting in the street, staring at nothing in particular. Obviously, the blast had affected them severely. They saw Taid and Eykit working as part of the bucket brigade.


Taid and Eykit were working hard, and the smoke was in their eyes, causing them to water. Eykit was having this problem a bit more than Taid, as Taid kept running back and forth between the river and where he’d put the barrel. Going to the cleaner air nearer the river was helping to keep his eyes clear.


But they were also having trouble concentrating. Several times Eykit caught himself just standing by the barrel, holding a bucket, or running with a full bucket of water without knowing what he was supposed to do with it. Taid was having similar problems, and twice he took wrong turns on his way to the river, causing unfortunate delays in getting the water to the firefighters.


There were several people shouting orders to the bucket crews. Several times there was confusion as they stopped in mid sentence, or said something that didn’t make any sense. Some even just started wandering off, until someone grabbed their arm and got their attention. At which point they would stammer some apology and get back to what they were doing.


Ruby needed to get closer. She had some magic spells that might be able to help, but not from fifty meters away. But she noticed that several of the bystanders and fire fighters were acting rather oddly, as if they had inhaled some kind of fumes which were causing them to be disoriented.


She walked briskly down the street, towards the fire. Almë joined her; Elitheris stayed behind. Ruby stopped across the street from the blazing building, then cast a spell of Create Air in order to make a bubble of fresh air where she was going to be. Then her plan was to use a spell of Fire Extinguishing once she could get close to the fire in relative safely.


She and Almë rushed towards the building, and Ruby cast the Create Air spell again to keep whatever the fumes were away from her.


Elitheris noticed, after watching the crowd of people, that the effect of the confusion or disorientation extended farther than anyone had originally thought. It went about fifty meters from the center of the blast. She also couldn’t think of anything natural that would do that over that size area.


What that meant was that all of her friends had spent time in that area, and were likely affected by it. Then a gust of wind blew embers into her eyes, and she had to deal with the pain and watering eyes.


Eykit refilled his bucket, and ran back towards the fire to do…what, exactly? He was feeling really hot, and he had a nice, cool bucket of water. He poured it on his head.


Other people saw him dump the water on his head, and followed suit. It seemed to be a good idea….


Almë saw, a couple of buildings down, a family of four, husband, wife, two daughters, staring at the burning buildings, tears streaming down their faces. They were likely victims of the fire, and had just lost their home and livelihood. He also knew that it took him several seconds to make that connection.


“Ruby,” Almë said, “I don’t think the fresh air helped. I think I’m thinking slowly, and missing things I shouldn’t be missing.”


“Crap,” Ruby replied, “That might make things difficult.” What was she not seeing that she should?


She got to within four meters of the wall of flames, and she could really feel the heat baking her skin. It felt like an accelerated sunburn. She cast the spell of Fire Extinguishing, but it fizzled. It took her a couple seconds to realize that the fires should have been extinguished, but weren’t. She shook her head, thinking that might clear it.


She moved forward, pulling a bit of mana out of her staff to replenish her own power, and cast the spell again. This time, she did it properly, and the fires that were consuming the building, or what was left of it, sputtered and went out. The buildings around it, however, had been outside of the spell’s effects, and were still a roaring inferno, which the townsfolk were continuing to splash water on in an attempt to limit the spread. So far, they had been successful; a few small fires had started where embers had fallen on flammable materials, but those had been small, and so far, hadn’t spread.


The building, whatever it had been, was only a smoking pile of cracked stone and burnt and blackened timbers. Everything above the second floor was gone, and the second floor itself was simply a few vertical posts with some chunks of charcoal attached to them that only hinted at being a second floor.


The buildings around it had lost their walls facing the center building, destroyed in the blast that had taken the main building apart. They were on fire, likely accelerated by the rush mats that formed the flooring. Having a major portion of the inferno suddenly go out was a big help.


Elitheris finally got her eyes working again. She saw some people come around the corner at the end of the street. A man, a woman, and a pair of kids. They were all just staring at the burned out hulk of what must have been their house. They just stood there, on the corner, as the fire fighting crews ran about them, throwing water onto the flames. One of the townsfolk, who had just filled up his bucket, just stood there, looking into the water, the light from the flames reflecting off of the surface. He smiled at the pretty light.


There were too many people like him that should have been fighting the fire and keeping it contained. But the effect of the blast, whatever it was, had limited the effectiveness to about half of what it should have been. Elitheris also noticed that some of the people with cognitive difficulties had moved out of what she thought was the area of effect, but were still suffering from mental lapses, confusion, and disorientation.


She moved over to one of the affected people. She grabbed his shoulders, and shook him.


“What? What?” the man said, shaking his head and looking around wildly. “What?!”


Elitheris looked him in the eyes. “Hey! Snap out of it! Tell me what happened.”


“The alchemist’s shop blew up!”


“Oh, shit.” Who knew what was in the air, then. It could have been any number of alchemical mixtures, and likely some kind of random mixture. She refocused on the man in front of her. “Who? What alchemist? Who’s the alchemist?”


“Agron.”


“Agron?”


“Yeah, Agron. I thought I’d seen him around here somewhere.” The man looked around, trying to see in the darkness, the surroundings lit only by the raging fires at the end of the street. “There he is!” He pointed at the family on the corner, at the end of the street.


Mr. Wiggles was whining, looking from the fire to Elitheris and back again. Norolind had laid down, head on his forepaws. His eyes weren’t good enough to pick her out in the distance, and he was waiting for her to come back.


Okay, she thought. Alchemy. We’ve got some experience with alchemy. Those pastilles last about ten minutes, sometimes less outdoors, especially if it’s windy. And that fire has caused some wind, and it’s been much longer than ten minutes since that blast went off. Heck, it was several minutes before we could even get here. So maybe the effects of whatever combination of elixirs that affected the area are gone now.


She hoped that was the case. Because she was going in. She looked at both Mr. Wiggles and Norolind. “Stay,” she commanded. “I’ll be back soon,” she added, even though she knew it was just gibberish to the dogs.


She made her way to the family, trying to be cognizant of any cognitive troubles. Assuming, of course, that the troubles would be noticeable by someone with cognitive difficulty. She didn’t feel any different, and didn’t notice herself doing anything…odd.


“Are you Agron?” Elitheris asked the man.

Agron Gerlof, alchemist, husband, father


The man, dark skinned and bearded, took a while to realize the question had been aimed at him. “I am.” He shook his head, and a momentary frown creased his forehead. “Yes, that’s me.”


Elitheris pointed at the burned out wreck of a building. “Was that your establishment? Was that your building?”


“Yes, that was my—our—home. And my business.” His cheeks were shiny with tears, although he didn’t seem to be crying any more.


“What happened?”


He frowned again, concentrating, as if the thoughts were running around and he had to gather them together first. “There was a break in. Some thugs came in. They tried to steal some stuff from me, and apparently one of them knocked something over into the brew cauldron. It started bubbling, and sparks started shooting out of it. I bolted past the thugs, and ran downstairs, getting my wife and kids out of the house just before it all blew up.”


She could see on bruises and minor cuts on all four people.


“And who are you? You don’t look like the Guard, or the Watch.”


“I’m just Elitheris. My friends are helping to put out the fires.” She hoped that was enough for him, since after all, she was basically a tourist. “What did they try to steal?”


“Some elixirs, and some ingredients. All gone, now.” His arm, still around his wife’s shoulders, squeezed her gently.


“Are you guys okay?”


“I think so. We got knocked down to the cobbles when our house exploded, but I think all we have are some bruises and minor cuts. I think. It’s been hard to think straight, after the blast.” One of his daughters had her fingers in her mouth, playing with her lips, making “blub blub” noises, a line of drool falling onto her sooty tunic. The older daughter sang a nursery rhyme to herself, giggling when she got to the refrain that went “monkey monkey monkey see, monkey monkey monkey do”.


Ruby was assessing the fire. It was still raging, and people were still struggling to put the fires out. She moved to the burning building next to the alchemist’s house. She cast another spell of Fire Extinguishing, and a large area of flames died down to embers, then just hot, smoking ash and charred wood.


Almë walked to the rubble that had once been an alchemist shop, looking for any survivors. He didn’t really think there would be any, unless there had been a basement under the four story building, but even then, the roaring flames would likely have used up all the air under there. The charred boards and smoking posts were still hot to the touch. He shouted, trying to see if any survivors might be under the rubble. He got no response.


Ruby ran up to the burning building, cast the spell of Fire Extinguishing, and then jumped back, away from the heat. More flame sputtered and went out. She recovered her power from her staff. I’ll have to be spending quite some time refilling that, she thought.


She moved back, away from the heat. Four buildings were still ablaze, but it was looking like the bucket brigades were starting to get the fires under control. More people had shown up, and there was a teamster with a wagon that had a half dozen water barrels in the back that people were using to get water on the flames faster. Taid rode with the wagon, loading and unloading the barrels.


Eykit was still throwing water on the flames. He knew what fires in the city were like, he’d seen several growing up. And they never ceased to terrify him. Fires were always frightening, not only from the loss of property, but also they could be deadly. Even a moderate amount of burns was likely to kill the victim, and even if they survived, they often wished they hadn’t. Burns were painful for a very long time, and they often got infected by bugs too small to see.


Ever since he’d been big enough to handle a bucket, he’d helped fight fires. He really respected the people who could run into burning buildings. That was something he could never do. Even to save a gem encrusted crown fit for the Emperor’s head and worth millions of marks. He shivered just thinking about it.


Ruby was exhausted. Her spell casting over such large areas had tapped her out. She walked back to Norolind, and climbed up into the saddle. The dog stood up, and they went back to the Rain Song along with Elitheris.


It was an hour or so after midnight when Almë gathered Taid and Eykit, and went to talk to the distraught family. They were sitting near the corner, leaning up against a storeroom, watching the fire brigades fight the fire.


“Hey,” Almë said. “My friend Ruby did what she could to put the fires out, as did Taid and Eykit here. It looks like the townsfolk have the fires under control. Do you have someplace to go? Where will you be staying?”


Agron looked up at the tall Elf. “We’ll likely be staying at my sister’s place.”


“Okay, so you have somewhere to go. Good.”


“We have family.”


The effects of the explosion had worn off after a couple hours. So the three of them were starting to realize how fuzzy their thinking had been. But Eykit and Taid had been hefting buckets and barrels for the last few hours, and they were both done. Let the townsfolk take care of the rest. They needed sleep.


They followed Almë back up the street to the South Side Inn. Taid unhitched his breastplate, letting it fall onto his pack, then fell into the bed, now with one fewer occupant, who must still be out fighting the fires. He fell asleep quickly.


Eykit, already suffering from lack of good sleep, both from being out in the scary wilderness, and because he slept in his chain shirt, which pinched and restricted his movement. He took off his armor, rolled it up, and set it next to his pack by his bedroll. He even took off his gambeson. He was tired, and he wanted some good sleep.


Skysday, Leafturn 15, 879 AFE


In the morning, the scuttlebutt around town was that the alchemist’s shop had burned down.


When Ruby woke and was eating her first breakfast, she was able to listen in on some of the conversations with other inn patrons. Alchemy, she thought. That would likely mean that the net effect of that explosion, and everyone’s mental issues, seemed to be most similar to a Foolishness elixir. Hmmm. Somehow what seemed to be an alchemical mistake turned into a large scale weaponized event. Interesting. Central might want to know about this. She reconsidered. Although that would likely lead to them experimenting to duplicate the effect. I wonder if a similar effect could be done with say, a Strength elixir?


She made sure that none of that thought made it to her expression. Having someone duplicate the effect—on purpose—would likely be one of those things that Central would slam their fist down on. For the sake of the people of Lytan’s Mill, she hoped no one gave any thought to that.


After first breakfast, she grabbed her staff, sat on the bed with the staff across her knees, and concentrated. Her staff was a staff of power; it acted something like a battery, much like a powerstone. However, she couldn’t use it to cast spells. She could only use it to refill her mana when she had used some up by casting spells.


That mana had to come from somewhere, and it came from her. She had to feed energy into the staff, some of which the staff retained. It was tiring work, despite not looking like much work at all. Because it was a lossy process, she had to do it for quite some time. She pushed most of her own power into the staff, a process that took several minutes and left her gasping and sweating, as if she had just run several kilometers. That gave her staff a little more power for her to reclaim in the future. It also only filled up about one sixth of its capacity.


She rested, using the focusing tools taught to her by her wizardly instructors that allowed her to pull more ambient mana from the environment into herself. This allowed her to recover her reserves in a bit less than an hour.


Then she repeated the process. Fighting the fire the night before had drained all of the stored magical energy out of it. By the end of another hour, it was one third full. To fill it up completely would take six hours. She didn’t have any other plans that day, so she had second breakfast, and spent the rest of the day refilling her staff, eating, drinking, and petting Norolind.


She told Elitheris her plans for the day, letting her know that if they needed her, they could come and get her.


Elitheris had considered visiting the “cranky old Elven hermit”, but decided that it wasn’t worth it, and slept in instead. She, like Ruby, didn’t really have any plans for the day. She pulled out the spell book with the Foolishness spell in it and studied it. She was tempted to practice on some passersby, but figured that would be a mean thing to do, so she refrained. She did go over the incantations and hand movements in her head, though. She was far enough along in the learning process to feel like she could cast the spell if she had to.


Taid, Eykit, and Almë did the same; Almë didn’t really need the sleep as much as Taid and Eykit did, but he’d been up late too. Taid had some more of the local beers. Most were pretty good, some were average, and one, a bitter dark stout, tasted like “mud from the ass-crack of a cave scorpion”, although he respectfully kept that opinion to himself when the barman asked how he liked the drink. “It’s not really to my liking, sorry.”


They were able to listen to the local gossip, however, which mostly focused on the fire the night before. As Elitheris recounted from her interview with the alchemist, some thugs broke into his house, stole some things, and managed to knock something over, causing the lab to explode. Stories varied on who it was who had broken in, which thieves’ guild it was, whether the thugs survived or not, and exactly how many died in the blast and subsequent fires. There were six known dead, four unaccounted for, and over a dozen wounded.


Some of those wounded would likely not survive. There just weren’t enough healing potions to go around, and they could only be made a few at a time, and it took seven days to brew them up. And there was one less alchemist lab in town.


The rumors also included some stories about how parts of the fire simply disappeared, or were blown out. Some stories mentioned fire salamanders scuttling over the burning timbers, eating the flames. Most stories focused on the people fighting the fires, and how they were able to keep the fires from spreading. There was a general sense of victory in the town; it was a big fire, and dangerous, but they had fought it and won, with a minimum of casualties.


Kynetsday, Leafturn 16, 879 AFE


After what could only be called a relaxing day, they got up before dawn to get to the boat. It was leaving at dawn, and they wanted to be aboard when it did.


Ruby, not used to getting up early, was miserable, although some hurriedly gulped down tea helped. She figured she could sleep on the boat. Going to bed early the night before had helped, but she still wasn’t used to getting up before the sun. It messed with her internal clock.


The day started off warm, and was only going to get hotter. There were scattered clouds in the sky, but not enough to act as shade.


They walked to the docks, where the boat they had booked passage on waited. It was called the “Dossit Float”, and the captain stood at the end of the gang plank waiting for them.


“Good to see you,” he said. “I’m Captain Robert Gwendal. I’ll let my crew introduce themselves when they aren’t busy. Come on aboard.” He turned and went across the gang plank to the boat, where he stood waiting for his passengers.

Captain Robert Gwendal


“State your name as you board, please.”


Elitheris looked at her companions, shrugged, and walked onto the boat. “Elitheris, and Mr. Wiggles.”


“Welcome aboard.” He reached down, and let Mr. Wiggles get a sniff of his hand. After the dog had said hi, he gave him a quick scratch on his head.


She was followed by Eykit. “I’m Eykit,” he said. He thought it seemed to be some kind of odd ritual. He played along.


“Alme,” the tall Elf said.


“Hello, I’m Ruby, and this is Norolind,” Ruby said. Like with Mr. Wiggles, Captain Gwendal put out his hand for the dog to sniff, then gave the dog a quick welcoming scratch. If he was at all put out by the size of the canine he didn’t show it.


Taid came last, leading Wilbur. “Taid,” the Dwarf said simply. “And Wilbur.”


Captain Gwendal nodded, and put a calming hand on Wilbur’s nose. “Hello big fellow. We’ll take good care of you.” He turned to one of the crew. “Elias, help our passengers here get situated.”


A bald, smiling Human started helping them with stowing their gear, then he helped Taid unload Wilbur.


Once all that was done, the crew and boat were ready to set sail. The Dossit Float was a knarr, a rounded keel, single masted boat some sixteen meters in length, with a beam of five meters. There was room for eight oars, and it sported a square sail. The cargo was placed in the middle of the boat; there were decks fore and aft, with gear stowed beneath hatches.

The crew was a mixed bunch, mostly Humans, but there was an Orc and a Goblin as well. Elias Travers was the de facto first mate, although in reality, all of the rowers were just sailors. But Captain Gwendal seemed to favor giving Elias extra tasks for some reason.


Elias was dark skinned, bald, with sharp blue eyes and a ready grin on his clean shaven face. He was in his thirties, not too tall, but built solidly with a barrel chest. He liked to knit, and when he wasn’t rowing, would often get out his needles and yarn and turn that yarn into items of clothing. Everyone in the crew at least had some socks made by him, and some had stocking caps or shawls.

Elias Travers


Artur Henning was a large, dark skinned man with wide shoulders who never seemed to wear a shirt, only a vest he wore open. He was also bald, and clean shaven, and judging from how he acted, really seemed to respect Elias. So much so that he adopted Elias’ look. His pastime was fishing, and would almost always have a line out, even when rowing. He also spent time at camp fishing, supplementing the dinner supplies.

Artur Henning


Erven Aldin was the camp master, and knew a lot about the jungle and forest they spent a majority of their time in. He was of dark skin and blonde hair, and sported a dapper goatee.

Erven Aldin


Jory Skender was a middle aged man in his forties, and had been on the river for three decades, most of that time with his younger brother, Wynnstan. His skin was brown, and he had short brown hair. His hobby was drawing, and he would spend his time sketching in a series of sketchbooks he kept wrapped in oilcloth to protect them from spray. Most of his work is done in pencil, although sometimes he used charcoal, pen and ink, or colored conte crayons. He was pretty good, but didn’t think he could be good enough to make a living at it.

Jory Skender


Wynnstan, his brother, had a similar build as his brother, and the same hair color, but wore his long and in a pony tail. Sometimes he braided it, but that was for “special occasions”, as he put it. He liked playing cards, whether it was solitaire, or various card games with others, especially if there was money riding on it.

Wynnstan Skender


Itura Rokaro was an Orc, and the strongest person on the crew. She was two meters tall, with deep dark brown skin, several earrings in her ears, and a lean, strong body. She wore the typical Orcish protective clothing of a wide brimmed hat, sunglasses, and clothing that covered her skin. She spent her time making small wood carvings of animals, like figurines, usually no more than ten centimeters in the longest dimension, and usually no larger than five. She liked to make them small enough to slip into a pocket.

Itura Rokaro


The Goblin was Fikkiil Ebiri, and he was the poet of the boat. He like to write, mostly poetry, although he also liked languages. He knew Mekiitagi, Lurkash, and a bit of Northern Khuzdul, in addition to Imperial. He had tawny eyes, olive green skin, and sported a chinstrap beard that counterbalanced his oversized ears.

Fikkiil Ebiri


Alexa Karlmann was the oldest member of the crew, at forty six, although decades of being in the sun had aged her skin so she looked a decade older. She was sort of the mother of the boat, treating the crew like her kids. She was the one to patch up wounds, and was the boat’s physician. She was also the camp cook, helping Erven with the camp chores.

Alexa Karlmann


They all made their introductions to their passengers as they pulled away from the docks of Lytan’s Mill, and out into the river.


There was a light breeze, so the sail was down and doing most of the work of propelling the boat. Four of the rowers were helping, and they were making pretty good speed upriver. It didn’t take long to get out of the town’s limits, and soon even the outlying farms were behind them. They had left the Grushagûl River, and had started up one of its tributaries. It was colloquially known as the "Rushing River", but that was an Imperial bastardized translation of its actual Khuzdûl name. Its actual name was the Mahimlêm Id-abshad River, which meant "Rushing waters" in Dwarvish, so named because of the series of rapids and waterfalls upstream of the city of Dwarfchat.


The jungle flowed past them slowly. The heat increased from the comfortable dawn temperature to a blazing 95°F (35°C). Captain Gwendal guided the boat as close to the jungle as he dared, just to give a little shade from the overhanging foliage. Most of the crew were shirtless, except for Alexa, who had changed into a sleeveless top, and Itura, who kept her skin-saving clothes on. She was sweaty, though, and sweltering in her long sleeves and gloves. She only complained a little.


Taid, still wearing his gambeson and breastplate, was literally dripping, and was so wet with sweat he looked like he had fallen overboard. Eykit wasn’t much better, although his mail shirt at least breathed, so as long as he didn’t let any skin touch the metal, he was fine. He got some surprisingly painful almost-burns when he tilted his head too far and his ears contacted the sun-heated links. Every now and again he would let out a pained yelp and an angry set of swear words when he forgot about his heated mail and tilted his head too far.


Elitheris was fairly comfortable; she’d taken off her gambeson armor, folded it up, and used it as a seat pad near the bow of the boat, where she kept an eye out for what the boat might be getting into.


Almë wore his, but unbuckled, like a thick robe. It helped, a little, but his arms and back, where there was limited airflow, were soaked with sweat.


Ruby wasn’t used to the hot weather, although of them all, her armor was the lightest and least prone to temperature problems. So she was uncomfortable, but not miserably so, and most of her discomfort was simply due to not being used to such high temperatures. She couldn’t wait to get up into the mountains, where, hopefully, it would be a bit cooler. If she got too hot, she could always turn into a falcon, and cool off that way.


The rowers changed shifts every half hour or so. Four rowers on, four off. Artur, of course, had baited a line and had set the handle of his fishing pole in a ring that looked suspiciously like a convenient fishing pole holder. There was one on both the port and starboard sides, and looked like they had been added to the boat by the crew. Jory had his sketchbook out, and was drawing jungle scenes, usually with birds in them as the main focus. When his brother Wynnstan wasn’t rowing, he was amusing himself with a game of solitaire, using the deck of cards he kept in a breast pocket. Itura sat near the bow, whittling what looked like a coiled hydra, although it could have been some kind of plant. It was too early to tell, and when she was asked, she just smiled through her tusks and said, “You’ll see.”


It was nearing midday, and Elitheris noticed some rocks up ahead, just before Jory said, “We’re getting to the interesting bit!” He put his sketchbook down and grabbed an oar, as did all of the other crewmen who weren’t rowing. They stood waiting, as the boat moved closer to the section of river that seemed as if someone had scattered boulders into the river. The path through them wasn’t straight, as the river curved, and the currents formed by the stone made the water roil and eddy. All eight rowers became very busy indeed, guiding the boat around the large rocks that threatened to capsize them.


The boat rocked as the sudden changes in water flow tried to move it in several directions at once. The rowers used their oars to keep the boat from hitting the rocks, pushing on the rocks to keep the boat from straying too close.


Captain Gwendal steered the boat with skill and intuition, while four rowers propelled the craft. The passengers hung on for dear life; falling overboard would be a massive problem. Even if the person knocked overboard could swim, there was a good chance of hitting their head on a rock.


Taid and Eykit were holding on fiercely. They both wore armor that would send them to the bottom of the river with no hope of being able to swim.


The crew fought the currents, displaying a high degree of skill, timing, and perhaps a bit of luck. But aside from a few close calls, they made it through. Once they were out of the rocky area, they all breathed a sigh of relief. No damage to the boat, no lost cargo, and, most importantly, no lost passengers.


That evening, they docked at a small pier that was a small hamlet’s equivalent of a wharf. The sailors filtered off into the hamlet, staying with various families. They’d passed through here before, and knew some of the townsfolk well enough to get a spot in a bed or some space on the floor.


It had been a very hot day, and there was no sign that it would cool off much in the evening, so Elitheris said that she was just going to set up camp in a harvested field. The rest of her friends thought that was a good idea as well.


It didn’t take long to walk to the edge of the hamlet and find a farmhouse with some nearby fields. When asked, the farmer was happy to let them set up camp in his field. It wasn’t a large field, perhaps an acre or two, but it was surrounded by a laid stone wall about a meter high.


The travelers laid out their bedrolls, and Elitheris showed them how to pitch their oilcloth tarps to protect them from getting wet if it rained. It would have been easier in the jungle, but they were able to find enough sticks to raise the tarps up high enough to crawl under.


Wilbur was happy; he was able to nibble on some nice wheat stubble, and occasionally find fallen grains that the birds hadn’t yet gotten to. Taid staked down a long lead, so he was able to roam about a fairly large area.


They ate dinner from their store of rations and food from the preservation box. They had to be careful of the bloodtree leaves, but Taid asked if the farmer had any sacks they could use, and he was given an old burlap grain sack that he developed several small holes in it that caused the grain to fall out, making it useless for that purpose. But it would hold leaves just fine, and they put the bloodtree leaves into the sack, to make moving them easier and less dangerous.


After a decent meal, they hit the sack, not long after full nightfall.


Jyprasday, Leafturn 17, 879 AFE


The day dawned bright and sunny, but a bit cooler than the previous day, which the travelers all welcomed. They cleaned up their campsite, packed up all the gear they had brought from the boat, and hoofed it the few hundred meters back to the docks, where the crew of the Dossit Float worked to get the boat ready to sail.


Not that there was all that much to ready; mostly they were just waiting for Alexa to get back. She was late, and didn’t arrive for another half hour.


“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized. “One of the farmer’s daughters was ill, and she asked me to take a look at her.”


“And how is she doing?” Captain Gwendal asked.


“She’ll be fine. Apparently she ate a mushroom growing at the edge of one of the fields, and it made her feel dizzy and ill. I suspect it was one of those kinds of fungus that makes you loopy.”


She got aboard, and grabbed her oar, ready to row. Captain Gwendal set six of the eight rowers to the oars, since they got a late start. He wanted to make up a bit of time. The rowers put their backs into it, and the boat surged forward a little faster.


The day was uneventful, although the captain kept the extra oars on for most of the morning. He let off after midday, reducing it to the usual four oars.


By late afternoon, they were starting to look for promising places to make camp. As they came around a bend in the river, they saw the remains of a hamlet. There had been a fire, and it had consumed most of the buildings. The hamlet itself was large enough that it could have had a half dozen families living there. All that was left now were foundations, the occasional wall, and a lot of burned timbers. Weeds were growing everywhere.

“Whatever happened here,” Elitheris said, “happened about two seasons ago, judging from the encroaching jungle.”


“Looks like it might make a good camp site,” Erven said. His practiced eye was able to pick out a couple of rings of scavenged stones, apparently used by travelers for campfires in the time since the burning. “Looks like some of those structures will at least provide partial cover.”


The captain nodded, and guided the boat deftly until it grounded some two meters from the bank. They were going to have to get their feet wet. The current was sluggish as it went around the curve of the river, and the bank was a fine, sandy silt with few rocks.


The crew took off their shoes; and they rarely wore socks, especially during the warmer months. The crew hopped over the bulwarks and splashed into the knee deep water, holding their shoes up to keep them from getting wet. Being boat shoes, of simply tanned leather, a bit of water wouldn’t hurt them much, but wet shoes could be uncomfortable, and they had to make camp. They set up a simple assembly line to get their camping gear from the boat to the shore, and in no time they had a pile of gear sitting just above the bank.


Captain Gwendal was the last off the boat; he made sure of the anchor and the pair of mooring lines before he too hopped into the cool water. After a hot day, it actually felt pretty good, but it was the result of snowmelt, and would be getting colder as they approached its source in the Zirinibâr Mountains.


Erven got to work organizing the campsite.


“Erven,” Taid said, “where do you think the bounds of the camp are going to be? I’ve got some protective magic that I’d like to use tonight.”


“Oh?” the goateed man said, surprised. “What kinds of magic?”


“I can make a protective mist that will keep animals out, and confuse any that do come in. It works on people, too.”


“Excellent! Well, we’ve got this almost intact building as the main sleeping quarters, but we won’t all fit in here. I was going to have the rest of us sleep over under that partial structure. At least they will have cover if it rains, although it won’t stop any winds.” He looked up at the almost completely still trees around the remains of the hamlet. “Although I don’t think winds will be a problem.”

“That second structure is a bit far off. I can’t really make the protected area that big.”


“That’s unfortunate. All right, we will designate this area outside the sleeping quarters as the second sleeping area. We’ll just have to set up tarps for cover.”

“Okay. Once everyone has set up their bedrolls, I’ll protect the campsite.”


Almë, meanwhile, had grabbed Ruby and the two of them, plant mage and animal mage, went around the perimeter, making sure that there were no nasty surprises. Almë found no dangerous plants, not that he expected any. The hamlet wouldn’t have tolerated any within their living spaces, and two seasons wasn’t enough to have any grow to dangerous size.


Ruby didn’t need to soothe any beasts, either. They didn’t see anything larger than a squirrel, or more dangerous than a parrot. They could hear other birds, off in the distance, and the occasional cry of a monkey. The omnipresent buzz and drone of insects was everywhere, and although most of them were doing their best to fight off the mosquitoes, Almë didn’t have that problem.


Once they had circumnavigated the hamlet, Almë did a little exploring. He walked through the ruins, looking for anything interesting. All he found as a small travel anvil, rusting in a corner. It was the type that could be pounded into a tree stump, and could handle most miscellaneous hardware needs. The hamlet must have had a part time blacksmith.


Once Almë and Ruby had returned, and the crew had their bedrolls and tarps laid out, Taid cast the spell of Mystic Mist, and a wave of opalescent mist spread out from him and encompassed the campsite. Once it reached the full extent of effect, the mist faded, leaving only a slightly sparkling oil-like sheen on everything.


“Taid,” Almë said, “I found an anvil. Thought you might be interested.”


Taid looked over at Wilbur, imagining where he might put it on the horse, who was already carrying so much stuff when they had him loaded up. “I think I’ll pass. It’s a bit on the heavy side, and when I need one, I should be able to get one.”

Dinner was a stew, made from salt pork, root vegetables, onions, and celery. Ruby picked out the meat, which Eykit happily ate. She couldn’t do much about the broth, but she made do.


After dinner, they got ready for bed. It had been a hot day, and was seeming to be a warm night. Taid slept without his armor, and even Eykit wore only an undershirt and his mail. He also wore a scarf around his neck to prevent chafing and pinching. Everyone else wore as little as possible, in an effort to be at least somewhat comfortable.


Almë took the first watch. The stars were bright, the watch uneventful, and Almë actually really enjoyed the night. When Jory took over the watch, Almë slept very well until it was almost dawn.


Almë dreamed. He was in the mountains, with odd trees with slender spines for leaves. Snow was on the ground, and his steps crunched as he walked. He was in a valley: there were mountains on either side, and a river wound its way off to his right. There was a silent rumbling. He could feel it, but he couldn’t hear it, then everything went black, and he was tumbling, hard objects slamming into him. Soon he came to a stop. He had trouble breathing; a great weight pressed down upon him. He was buried in an avalanche.


He woke up.


He felt like he was burning, a stinging, burning, painful sensation from his chest down to his toes. He was laying on his back, and he tried to jump up, but there was a weight on his arms and legs that made it difficult to move. And it wasn’t just a weight, but something that was physically restricting his movement.


His eyes focused. The good news was that he wasn’t actually on fire. The bad news was that he was covered by something that looked like a slimy, lumpy, moldy carpet that weighed about twenty kilos. It covered him like a blanket, from his chest down to his toes, and had also covered his arms. He could see the top surface of it writhing and shifting about. It was eating him.


In fact, it had eaten through his bedroll. There was a strip of it left, lying across him just under his chin. Most of the rest of his bedroll was gone. He suspected his clothes were gone too, but he couldn’t tell. He thought he could feel them beneath him, though.


He screamed for help. After a few inarticulate yells, he screamed for Taid.


He tried to scrape it off of him, but he couldn’t get good leverage, and it just gave and flowed around and back, like a gel. It was a reek, a creature something akin to a hyperactive slime mold. It had come from its resting place in the corner of the building, and had flowed over Almë, who was in his sleeping furs. It had eaten through those, then his clothes, and had finally gotten to his skin, which it started digesting.


His screams woke the camp, and it was almost instantly a flurry of motion as people hurriedly got out of their bedrolls, looking around, trying to figure out what the problem was. Both dogs started barking, confused, and, like the two-legs all around them, were trying to figure out what was causing the ruckus.


It took what felt like an eternity as Almë struggled with the reek as he waited for the rest of the camp to help him. But in reality, it was only a few seconds. But during that time, the reek was dissolving him, consuming him.


He tried to pull his arms out, but somehow managed to get his arms even deeper into the gooey mass.


Taid came running over, and saw the reek covering Almë. He clenched his fists in anger. He hated reeks, almost as much as he hated flickerbugs. A reek had made a hole in his armor.


The others were converging on Almë as well.


Taid remembered that the reek didn’t take much damage from pointed or sharp objects. It was basically goo, so it just flowed back together. But blunt force trauma did damage it. So Taid used his fists, striking at Almë’s form at an angle to hit the reek, and minimize damage to Almë, who was underneath it. His fists splashed into the vile, slimy creature, and he could feel the reek’s digestive juices burning his hands. It didn’t matter, he could heal from that.


Eykit wasn’t far behind him, and was also wanting to punch Almë. Well, the reek on Almë, but Almë.


“Back off!” Ruby said, and cast the spell of Flaming Armor on Almë. The spell did three things: one was to make him immune to fire; two, it caused him to burst into flames; and three, it burned things that were touching him, and anything that attacked him.


Eykit, charging into combat, saw Almë burst into flames, still screaming. He was no longer sure he wanted to hit the tall Elf, not while he was wreathed in flames.


And then Almë really exploded into flames. The reek was effectively engulfing Almë, and one of the things that the spell did to targets who were doing something like that was literally explode, expending its energy all at once.


The reek expanded unevenly, backlit by the flames, then snapped back as the pressure released, and it bubbled and hissed as portions of it boiled away. Almë was no longer in flames; the spell had expended itself.


It had been moving up Almë’s body, trying to envelope his head, but now it was just sitting there, feeling like a dead weight on his chest. Parts of it were still moving, writhing and moving over each other.


While Almë was not on fire, Eykit kicked at him, ostensibly to get the reek off of him. His bare foot connected with the slimy creature, and some of the force of the blow went through it to Almë.


Taid punched at it again, and more bits of stringy goo splashed off of the creature and landed in the dirt.


“Be careful! I’m exploding Almë again!” Ruby said, casting the Flaming Armor again.


Almë exploded in flame again, and large gouts of goo flew off of him, landing in the dirt with wet squishy noises. The smell of boiled and charred reek filled the air, a foul stench that made people’s eyes water.


The crew of the Dossit Float stood by, watching, not wanting to get in the way. They still weren’t exactly sure what was going on, except that it involved some kind of fire magic, alchemy, or both. It was all very out of their wheelhouse.


Almë struggled, and managed to pull an arm out of the remains of the goo. The blast had removed some of the fetid goo that had held his arm.


“I’m flaming him again!” Ruby said, and started cast the spell a third time.


Taid started casting the spell of Icy Touch.


Eykit kicked at the reek, and Almë, again. It felt gross on his foot, like stepping on a snail.


Ruby paused, realizing that Taid was doing something, so she conserved her mana. Then Taid’s spell hit, freezing the reek and making it less liquid. Which meant it might be easier to get off of Almë. She waited.


Almë, his arm free, started pushing at the reek, trying to get it off of him. He wasn’t very successful.


Taid grabbed at the edge of the reek at Almë’s chest, but with the ice crystals covering it, his fingers couldn’t grasp the edge with any strength. Eykit wasn’t having much better luck; he’d grabbed on, but the reek was resisting his efforts to get it off of the Elf.


Almë, Eykit, and Taid all pulled at the same time, and managed to peel the body of the reek back. It felt like a thick blanket of taffy, and as they pulled it off of Almë they could hear the sound of ice cracking and breaking. Almë was exposed from his chest to his thighs. The front half of his clothes had been eaten away by the reek, and his body lay exposed in all its glory, covered in an almost uniform chemical burn that left his skin blistered and raw.


They pulled on it again, and freed Almë’s legs. They dropped it. Almë got to his feet, grabbing his staff. With a quick swing of his staff, he slammed it into the reek. Then he struck it again.


Taid kicked at it, and the reek’s structural integrity finally gave out. It broke apart, unable to stay cohesive, slowly melting into slimy puddles.


When Almë had stood up, the remains of his clothes had, with the exception of part of a sleeve, had stayed behind on the dissolved remains of his bedroll. He was naked, burnt, and panting in exertion, standing over a dozen small globules of brownish gunk that used to be a reek.


“Fuck!” he said, looking down at his damaged body. From mid-chest down was a mass of blistered, bleeding flesh. The air hurt. Moving hurt. Standing hurt.


It was about an hour before dawn, and several members of the crew didn’t bother going back to sleep. They started to get ready to take down the campsite.

Rewards Granted

3 CP

Character(s) interacted with

Captain Poppy Tinyfoot
Ochasa Sokkoeko
Agron Gerlof
Captain Robert Gwendal
Elias Travers

Erven Aldin

Report Date

07 Oct 2023

Primary Location

The Tondene Empire

Secondary Location

The Western Continent

Related Characters

• Almë
• Elitheris
• Eykit the Eel
• Mister Wiggles
• Norolind
• Ruby Smallburrow
• Taid Tehoredor Lasu

Heat exhaustion: everyone was at -2 to their HT rolls due to temp and encumbrance, Eykit was at -3. Everyone who fails a roll every 1/2 hour loses 1 FP, or 2 if it’s over 91°.


Also note: the term “Halfling” is a derogatory term. Hobbits aren’t “half” of anything.

Ruby’s staff holds 28 mana points. She can usually spend 10 mana at a time when recharging it. It takes one minute per point of mana she is focusing into the staff. The staff retains half of that energy. So she spends 10 minutes pouring power into the staff, then rests for 50 minutes because she has Recover Energy at a level where she gets 1 FP back per 5 minutes. Then she can repeat the process, taking another hour. While she is recovering her FP, she can eat and drink, and pet Nori. Totally refilling her staff takes five hours and six minutes, assuming 1) she remains totally focused and has no interruptions; and 2) she doesn’t bother to recover afterward, leaving her with 5 FP. If she wants to be at full FP along with the full staff of power, it will take her another 30 minutes using Recover Energy.