The Woman has brokered a truce with my Rival. It is against my better judgement as it can not hold but she remembers a time when our civility wasn't forced, a time when our smiles weren't just masks we wore in passing. The Woman wishes to return to those far-gone days, the days before my fallen friendship, the days before her own dark history with my Rival. She is a better person than both of us in this regard as we can only see to our coming conflict. I acquiesced while feigning belligerence, which she easily saw through. If this is what she wanted I would support her. I would watch this truce burn on its own merits and be there when she was ready to fight back. In a way this Truce has bought me some breathing room as I have other problems that need attending to.
The loss of my Lieutenant has created ripples among my band. The Mage is holding, an effective planner, the work is getting done but it is only a matter of time before he is challenged. Already I see the Barbarian plotting. Frequently I have seen the need to intervene as he will listen to no one besides myself and only then when it suits him. His delusions of grandeur have even set his eyes on my position. He has seen opportunity outside our little group now and has begun to whisper in my lords ears. It seems his efforts have been rewarded. My liege has begun to task him directly. My liege has also begun to court the Ronin, and I can feel the Lieutenants manipulative hand in this despite our parley. Already his knowledge of us is working against my plans. I believe in the Ronin's loyalty but I also know that he can only wander for so long. His skills are useful and more detrimentally to myself,completely obvious. It was only a matter of time before he was lured away by the promise of gold and glory. The Giant will also be leaving soon, returning to his homeland. A departure I had long expected but had begun to dread. A calming influence on the group, a foil to the barbarian, I had begun to count on him for stability. None of these problems are insurmountable on their own but I can see what is coming and it does not bode well for me.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Parley
Potions are a problem. Two years ago when I came to the kingdom it was overrun with potions. Potions that bond, cover, and affect other changes in wonderful and creative ways. However no potion is without consequences, whether it be simple effects of the health to more outrageous transmutations, each container was itself a Faustian deal. The alchemists do not like to see their creations used for incompetence or evil and so attempt to regulate their use. However once made and contained any cutpurse with access to a man or two can get their hands on these potions and undercut their sometimes outrageous guild prices and so the black market of potions was born. The men of the Kingdom can not be blamed in whole for their transgressions as my lord and his like have not made it easy on them. Sometimes when a job needs to be done in a hurry a potion is the fastest way and the bureaucracy they have to cut through is more time than they have. One of my jobs is to regulate the potions trade internally before the Alchemist's get involved. Before their powerful guild can implement their official punishments such as trade embargoes and blacklists as well as the unofficial consequences in which piles of gold must trade hands before we can be right with the guild. These last weeks my people have begun raiding storehouses and workshops and we have recovered many illicit potions that the lords had not realized we possessed. Now the Kingdoms eye is on me and my men. A scrutiny we have not known before.
War is a honest thing. The goals are clear, your enemy is obvious, your emotions are true. Measured only in blood, the victor is unequivocally the best force. I miss it sometimes, I miss that clarity. Instead I operate in a shadier world. One much darker. Every imagined slight a possible attack. An off hand remark may lead to an ambush. A world in which victory is measured by the attainment of power. I can not decry this world I find myself in. I made very clear choices at many points in my life to be where I am but I can realize when I've taken on too much. I have gained too many enemies in too short a time. I have been reactive for far too long. It is time to act.
With the Kingdom's eye on me I must look to my secrets. I have a leak. My old Lieutenant is a problem. He knows too much of the inner workings of my band. Although his allegiance is, in essence, to the same lord I have sworn fealty too I would rather my lord not know everything on how I accomplish my tasks. The dirt I have to walk through sometimes is not for such as him. I must treaty with the Lieutenant and ensure his ambition does not affect our small band. I have called a Parley. We are traveling to a neutral spot to discuss this singular problem. I have decided to take the Woman and the Barbarian on my travel. The Barbarian due to his sometimes almost friendly relationship with the Lieutenant and his muscle should I need it and the Woman for her companionship, to ensure the mood is light and that I do not push too hard. Conversation is not my forte.
We must first travel through the Dwarvish cave system of Them'etro . Made centuries before but long since abandoned by the small hands that created the labyrinthine system of tunnels, it now acted as the main trade route of the kingdom. The Kingdom had created long ornately engraved carriages that can hold a plethora of passengers and tens of thousands are moved everyday toward their destination. It was a simple system but it did have its dangers. Their were bandits even here, and the mad seemed to flock here as if their temple. As I stood their in the tunnel looking in the subterranean entrance the scroll in my hand warmed to the touch. Mages had long ago created a system in which communication could be effected across vast distance. I have such a device in my possession. The message was from the Barbarian. His words had none of their usual confidence. I had known he would not like this task. He did not like being underground and had gone to great lengths to avoid Them'etro until now. He was nervous. I reassured him and left it. He would show. Fear was not for one such as him. We boarded the carriage and left.
Our destination was reached without incident. We arrived first and were seated at a tavern flush with the decor of the land. I had traveled these lands in my past and smiled at the small details they had changed to suit their seemingly large foreigner client base. Instead of plush pillows we were were seated in conventional wooden benches of our homeland. I saw that they had metal utensil's offered for those upper class individuals who could not stomach placing their own hands into plates in which other hands were eagerly grasping for nourishment as well. The Lieutenant soon arrived with his constant traveling companion. I had met her once before. She was a bright woman with a clever mind and an acerbic tongue. I could not tell if this was a good sign as she would be a formidable foe should this meeting turn sour. They both sat with a smile which did not settle my unease. After some moments the Barbarian entered. He arrived and sat. I knew immediately he was uncomfortable but I was unsure if it was because of the unfamiliar setting so unlike is own land or if it was because of his earlier sub-terrestrial adventure. He did not elaborate. Our meal came then. A 7-course meal, each communal plate coming after we had finished the one before. The man-servant acted disinterested in our musings but immediately appeared when our conversation lulled and our serving was done. His silence was bought with coin but still my tongue wagged less frequently when I felt his eye upon us. Finally our meal had finished and we had come to an understanding, our words analogs of the points we wanted to make without actually being direct. The language of the Kingdom. Our unspoken pact finished we were then interrupted by a trio of dancers. From places even further than this land, these foreigners had been pressed into service. They were not attractive dancers as per the customs of the land. Their gelatinous gyrations were amusing and their integration of the curved sword so common to their warriors served to pique even the Barbarians curiosity. It wasn't long before they were able to coax him into their Bacchic revelry. The general sense of camaraderie seemed to infuse even me and I found myself dancing in their throng as well, my old bones cracking with each step but ignored for the moment. A sense of the old bonds had returned and it seemed as if nothing had changed our small band. A long mug of mead was needed now to seal the agreement however due to the laws of this land this establishment did not serve that fare.
The Lieutenant knew a place where our needs could be met. I did not ask him how he had come by this information but we were not disappointed. The place was easy to enter but not easy to find. Its sign taken down long ago to avoid confrontation from the locals and the morality guards it had to pay off from time to time it was simply dubbed "the pit" from its regulars. The crowd was easy and uninterested. A perfect spot for ruffians, cutthroats, and vagabonds. A perfect spot for the likes of us. We ordered a mug and sat. The conversation flowed easily but it was not long before the Barbarians tolerance for the liquid was met. His mood soured as we continued our drinking and he went without by his own choice. So much so that it was not long before the Woman was calling his manhood into question due to his quiet belligerence. She slapped him twice to illicit a response and he responded with the cold stare we all knew so well but one she was now just meeting. The night broke its zenith and we were interrupted by the fact that the carriages in Them'etro would stop running soon. The Barbarian nervous about the travel was waiting for us to leave with him. We grudgingly agreed and led him out. The travel home went smoothly despite the time of night as we were not accosted. After we had reached our destination we exited giving the Babarian simple directions on how to flag down a merchant that would be traveling in his direction from Them'etro entrance near his own abode. They usually waited around the entrances to pick up passengers to add a little coin to their own purse as they headed to the various outlying towns to sell their wares. I stepped from the carriage and my head cloudy with mead forgot him a moment later as the Woman and I staggered home.
We had only just lain down to sleep when a glow suffused the room. My scroll was glowing indicating I was being contacted. A drunken stupor had fallen over me and I could barely understand the words that I stared at.
"You lied, no merchants. I am alone."
I did not even begin to think on those words as darkness claimed me.
War is a honest thing. The goals are clear, your enemy is obvious, your emotions are true. Measured only in blood, the victor is unequivocally the best force. I miss it sometimes, I miss that clarity. Instead I operate in a shadier world. One much darker. Every imagined slight a possible attack. An off hand remark may lead to an ambush. A world in which victory is measured by the attainment of power. I can not decry this world I find myself in. I made very clear choices at many points in my life to be where I am but I can realize when I've taken on too much. I have gained too many enemies in too short a time. I have been reactive for far too long. It is time to act.
With the Kingdom's eye on me I must look to my secrets. I have a leak. My old Lieutenant is a problem. He knows too much of the inner workings of my band. Although his allegiance is, in essence, to the same lord I have sworn fealty too I would rather my lord not know everything on how I accomplish my tasks. The dirt I have to walk through sometimes is not for such as him. I must treaty with the Lieutenant and ensure his ambition does not affect our small band. I have called a Parley. We are traveling to a neutral spot to discuss this singular problem. I have decided to take the Woman and the Barbarian on my travel. The Barbarian due to his sometimes almost friendly relationship with the Lieutenant and his muscle should I need it and the Woman for her companionship, to ensure the mood is light and that I do not push too hard. Conversation is not my forte.
We must first travel through the Dwarvish cave system of Them'etro . Made centuries before but long since abandoned by the small hands that created the labyrinthine system of tunnels, it now acted as the main trade route of the kingdom. The Kingdom had created long ornately engraved carriages that can hold a plethora of passengers and tens of thousands are moved everyday toward their destination. It was a simple system but it did have its dangers. Their were bandits even here, and the mad seemed to flock here as if their temple. As I stood their in the tunnel looking in the subterranean entrance the scroll in my hand warmed to the touch. Mages had long ago created a system in which communication could be effected across vast distance. I have such a device in my possession. The message was from the Barbarian. His words had none of their usual confidence. I had known he would not like this task. He did not like being underground and had gone to great lengths to avoid Them'etro until now. He was nervous. I reassured him and left it. He would show. Fear was not for one such as him. We boarded the carriage and left.
Our destination was reached without incident. We arrived first and were seated at a tavern flush with the decor of the land. I had traveled these lands in my past and smiled at the small details they had changed to suit their seemingly large foreigner client base. Instead of plush pillows we were were seated in conventional wooden benches of our homeland. I saw that they had metal utensil's offered for those upper class individuals who could not stomach placing their own hands into plates in which other hands were eagerly grasping for nourishment as well. The Lieutenant soon arrived with his constant traveling companion. I had met her once before. She was a bright woman with a clever mind and an acerbic tongue. I could not tell if this was a good sign as she would be a formidable foe should this meeting turn sour. They both sat with a smile which did not settle my unease. After some moments the Barbarian entered. He arrived and sat. I knew immediately he was uncomfortable but I was unsure if it was because of the unfamiliar setting so unlike is own land or if it was because of his earlier sub-terrestrial adventure. He did not elaborate. Our meal came then. A 7-course meal, each communal plate coming after we had finished the one before. The man-servant acted disinterested in our musings but immediately appeared when our conversation lulled and our serving was done. His silence was bought with coin but still my tongue wagged less frequently when I felt his eye upon us. Finally our meal had finished and we had come to an understanding, our words analogs of the points we wanted to make without actually being direct. The language of the Kingdom. Our unspoken pact finished we were then interrupted by a trio of dancers. From places even further than this land, these foreigners had been pressed into service. They were not attractive dancers as per the customs of the land. Their gelatinous gyrations were amusing and their integration of the curved sword so common to their warriors served to pique even the Barbarians curiosity. It wasn't long before they were able to coax him into their Bacchic revelry. The general sense of camaraderie seemed to infuse even me and I found myself dancing in their throng as well, my old bones cracking with each step but ignored for the moment. A sense of the old bonds had returned and it seemed as if nothing had changed our small band. A long mug of mead was needed now to seal the agreement however due to the laws of this land this establishment did not serve that fare.
The Lieutenant knew a place where our needs could be met. I did not ask him how he had come by this information but we were not disappointed. The place was easy to enter but not easy to find. Its sign taken down long ago to avoid confrontation from the locals and the morality guards it had to pay off from time to time it was simply dubbed "the pit" from its regulars. The crowd was easy and uninterested. A perfect spot for ruffians, cutthroats, and vagabonds. A perfect spot for the likes of us. We ordered a mug and sat. The conversation flowed easily but it was not long before the Barbarians tolerance for the liquid was met. His mood soured as we continued our drinking and he went without by his own choice. So much so that it was not long before the Woman was calling his manhood into question due to his quiet belligerence. She slapped him twice to illicit a response and he responded with the cold stare we all knew so well but one she was now just meeting. The night broke its zenith and we were interrupted by the fact that the carriages in Them'etro would stop running soon. The Barbarian nervous about the travel was waiting for us to leave with him. We grudgingly agreed and led him out. The travel home went smoothly despite the time of night as we were not accosted. After we had reached our destination we exited giving the Babarian simple directions on how to flag down a merchant that would be traveling in his direction from Them'etro entrance near his own abode. They usually waited around the entrances to pick up passengers to add a little coin to their own purse as they headed to the various outlying towns to sell their wares. I stepped from the carriage and my head cloudy with mead forgot him a moment later as the Woman and I staggered home.
We had only just lain down to sleep when a glow suffused the room. My scroll was glowing indicating I was being contacted. A drunken stupor had fallen over me and I could barely understand the words that I stared at.
"You lied, no merchants. I am alone."
I did not even begin to think on those words as darkness claimed me.
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