A Time Of The Sword Is Nigh (IC (ALWAYS OPEN))

[The Twelve Isles]

OOC >>>IC<<< WORLD MAP THEME DISCORD

(OOC Disclaimer: These quests are not required for you to participate in, and in fact you are allowed to start wherever you please doing whatever you please. However, if you wish to get involved with the story, the quests are your best way to do it. Otherise, I hope you all have fun, and enjoy the story we have planned for you all.)

THE HUNT FOR THE GIRL IN THE WOODS

Northern Eudasaine, Village Of Pontoise, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Camille found herself glaring again, staring into the fire and white knuckling the wooden spoon she held in her hand. It had been days. Days, and yet no one had come to her, seeking to help. She saw the way they all looked at her when she passed through town, eyeing her with pity and vague remorse for her, but no one believed what she said. She knew her daughter wasn't dead. Alice was out there still, in those woods, and no matter who she went to, they all told her that they were so sorry, but poor little Alice was probably dead by this point. It had been a coming up on two weeks now since she had ventured into the woods, bringing bread and food to her grandmother the next village over.

But even if they were right, which Camille was certain they were not, what could have killed her daughter in those woods? Alice had walked the little road between Pontoise and Bayeux, where her grandmother lived, hundreds of times before. And no one had ever complained of anything dangerous being in those woods. So how could Alice have possibly gotten lost? Or what could have possibly killed Alice? As far as Camille was concerned, they were just lazy. To scared and too indifferent to go into the woods and find her little girl.

Camille's scowl hardened even more, her face creasing in harsh lines, her teeth clenching as she stared into the fire, when finally she snapped. She shouted into her empty little cottage, throwing the wooden spoon with all of her strength into the fire. She lashed out at everything around her, flipping a table, smashing her hand against the scruffy mirror on the wall, tearing down the tapestry that hung over the window, and kicked the little trunk that sat by the foot of her bed where she kept her clothes, almost certainly breaking at least one of her toes, before Camille curled up on the floor in the corner. She held her hands over her head, clutching at her hair, and wept for the first time since Alice had disappeared. She had been as strong as she could, but she couldn't hide it from herself any longer. She was so, so scared, and she just wanted her little girl back. Alice was her life, her light, her everything, and she was gone, and everyone in town was probably right. Alice was probably gone forever. And it made that much worse to know that even if she kept looking forever, Alice was probably never coming out of those woods again.

THE RAT CATCHER OF HEINLEN

Northern Kriglind, Town Of Heinlen, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Mayor Konrad paced up and down his office, rubbing a nervous hand over his chin, his bald head gleaming every time he passed beneath the candles in his office. A younger man, a steward, little more than a glorified clerk, stood nearby like a jumpy little dog, his eyes watching carefully as Konrad walked backwards and forwards, backwards and forward, burning a hole in his fancy rug. "Shipped all the way from the Free City!" he would exclaim to anyone who came into his office, though no one actually cared.

"Tell me again," said Konrad. "What did the Elf find?"

"Yes sir," said the steward, named Felix.

"And the guards couldn't find anything?"

"No sir," said Felix. "They said they couldn't even remember the walk through the woods, though Kaeln recalls leading them to the caves where he tracked the children and watching them enter, and then come out, ignoring him entirely and walking back here."

"And Kaeln is the Elf?" Said Konrad, looking up and stopping his pacing.

". . . Yes sir," said Felix. "Kaeln is the Elf. He's the man who brought you the boar for your feast, hosting those knights from Eudasaine."

Konrad waved a dismissive hand, he didn't care what the Elf was called. What mattered was, this was a town where the mayor was elected, and his term was almost up. And his term was almost up at the same time that nearly all of the towns children, save for a blind boy, a deaf girl, and the lame, mentally slow boy who lived with the miller and his wife were the only ones left. The elf, Kaeln as Felix referred to him, had supposedly tracked the children and the rat catcher who had taken them to a network of caves in the nearby woods. But of course, the damn point ear didn't think to actually go into the caves, to try and risk his life to rescue the poor children. Though Konrad wasn't sure why he would expect a point ear to ever help humans unless there was something in it for them. Their kind were all a bunch of penny pinching thieves and hoarders, couldn't be trusted as far as you could throw them. Which considering their tall stature, was not very far.

Finally, Konrad began to pace again, rubbing a hand over his chin, and a second over his bald scalp. He looked like a cornered rat, his beady eyes frantically flicking around the room and his sharp, long nose making his face look like a knife. Finally, he spun back around to face Felix. "Why don't we just advertise?" he said, a wide grin spreading across his, revealing rows of too small teeth. "We still have all the money we would have given the rat catcher, had he not stolen away all of the children. We offer it to anyone who can pass through. . . whatever it is that the rat catcher is using to keep our men out. If they bring the rat catcher back alive, double the pay. Dead, fifty extra coin, along with the money they would get for just bringing back the children."

Felix eyed the mayor carefully, making sure Konrad was serious. He didn't dare say it, Konrad was a mean man with his fists when he felt undermined or when he was drunk, even worse so when he was both, but this was also the same play that had gotten them into this mess to begin with. Konrad didn't say it, but Felix could sense it. And bringing in more dangerous outsiders, to fix a local problem for money that Konrad may or may not actually give them, was inviting more problems than they already had to begin with.

THE DEAD KING AND THE MAIDEN

Arelenian City States, Novgrobirsk, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Anatoly ducked, narrowly avoiding the goblet thrown across the room to smash on the opposite wall, his chainmail and sword clinking with the movement. "Vitaly, be reasonable," he said, pleading with the Lord Mayor who stood behind his desk, the ruins of the office spread around him. As soon as the words left Anatolys mouth he regretted it, snapping his lips closed and straightening up when the Lord Mayor's eyes shifted to him, fixing Anatoly in a deadly, enraged glare.

"What was that?" said the Lord Mayor, Vitaly. "What did you just call me? Vitaly is it? Vitaly?"

"I'm sorry," said Anatoly, trying to look anywhere but at the Lord Mayor.

The Lord Mayor strode forward from behind his desk, stepping over a toppled chair, his fine leather boots crunching on broken glass. "Anatoly, my oldest friend, dont tell me you're turning on me now as well are we?"

"Lord Mayor, you know thats not true, we-"

"Shut up!" snapped the Lord Mayor as he came face to face with Anatoly. "I dont need you, some glorified thug from the alley gangs, telling me what I do and do not know! Do you want to know what I know? Huh? Do you want to know!? Answer me!"

Anatoly breathed in deeply, straightening up and tightening his jaw, trying to not flinch at how close the Lord Mayor had gotten. Anatoly was a tall man, and in his armor he seemed even more imposing than he already appeared. But the Lord Mayor had in him a viscous cruelty that could make a mountain look like a molehill, and make a warrior like Anatoly seem like little more than a boy playing soldier. Flicking his eyes downwards towards the Lord Mayor, Vitaly's, face, Anatoly spoke. Quietly, like he was afraid any wrong word would result in grave consequences.

"What do you know, Lord Mayor?" he said.

In a flash, the Lord Mayor stepped back and reached out with his hand, slapping Anatoly across the face with a crack like thunder, before pressing his face so close to Anatoly's that they may as well have been kissing. "That you, a man I have known my whole life, my brother, my kin, cant even get my own betrothed back from some dirty, half dead bandit pretending to be an ancient Rusalkan! You come into my manor, you wear the armor I gifted you, presenting the rank I gave you, and you have the gall to tell me our men were slaughtered!? This is your fuck up Anatoly! Yours!"

"I'm sorry Lord Mayor," said Anatoly again.

"Sorry doesn't cut it anymore Anatoly!" bellowed the Lord Mayor, "I have forgiven your fuck ups enough times already! I don't care what you do, hire magi! Hire mercenaries! But if you fail one more time, it'll be you, and your personal men, who I send out to Kosei's castle next! Now get out of my office, get out of my manor, and fix this fucking problem!"

THE WITCH OF THE WOODS

Eastern Roosklinds, On The Side Of The Road, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Vasilisa stared down the woods in front of her, tall and imposing, the tree branches looking like long fingers. It was growing dark, and with the dark there would be cold and wolves, and she did not have the necessary clothing to make it through either. But if she did not return with a never dying light, her stepmother would never allow her back into the house. "To many mouths to feed, and you've never done anything to help out around the house you petulant little shit," she had said, Vasilisa standing in the corner as far away from her stepmother as she could, bowing her head and trying to seem small. "So I say its time you start earning your keep, or its time you don't come back!"

A never dying light. Those weren't real. Never dying lights were the tools of Spirits, to light their way through the Aether. Or at least, thats what the alderman in town had said, and he knew more stories about Spirits than anyone. But he was no mage, he couldn't bring her a never dying light, and when she went to him to ask for help, he had looked at her in that way he had always been looking at her recently. Like a wolf examining a deer. So Vasilisa had come here, the only other place she could think of where she may be able to a acquire a never dying light. From the Witch Of The Woods, from Bala Yalka.

Vasilisa stepped forward, venturing further and further towards the woods, even stepping off the end of the road where it petered out. She strode through the tall grass, pulling the hem of her dress where it got caught on thorns, until she was right at the very edge of the woods, staring into them. Vasilisa watched the woods closely, but the woods practically seemed to push her backwards. It was unreasonably black, unreasonably dense, and a sense of dread seemed to seep from the trees themselves. Vasilisa tried to enter three times, walking a few meters in, before turning on her heals and sprinting back to the road, where some sense of normalcy resumed, and the woods didnt seem so strange and otherworldly anymore.

Finally, Vasilisa stared into the woods from the road, close to the end of her rope from frustration, feeling the rage building up in her chest from the absurdity of it all. She was just a girl, not a warrior. She needed help, but had only gotten mediocre legends and a forest that seemed to repel her with physical force as much as her own fear. Her own family had thrown her from her home, and the villagers only sent her to the alderman who had a reputation of cramming his hands up girls dresses. "Dammit!" Vasilisa yelled, before winding up and punching a small tree with all the force that she had. She felt her knuckles split, and felt the pop of a finger breaking, and in a pathetic head she slid down the trunk onto the hard ground, clutching her broken hand to her chest and crying from anger and disappointment at how unfair it all was.

THE SHALLOW PRINCE AND THE SPIRIT OF DEALS

Eastern Pescala, Zakole Rizen Fortress, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Filip stood atop the battlements of Zakole Rizen, and looked west, towards Kriglind, towards home. He was a strange man to look upon, carrying himself with the regal bearings of a king but wearing the rusted armor of a lowly bandit. Turning, Filip strode down the stone walkways, looking out over everything with an emotionless face, like a marble statue. Pleasant to look at, as he was handsome in a rugged sort of way, but cold and hard, nothing behind dead eyes that stared around like they could see right through a person to the wall behind them.

It was a beautiful night, and Filip vaguely thought that he would have loved to be able to watch the sunset, had he been able to feel. But instead, everything appeared as a dull blur. He knew what everything was, he understood everything he had done to carve himself this small little kingdom, and he could comprehend that this was a limited time he had in this position. But, he didnt really care. And yet, he knew that he should. But he couldnt.

Filip pushed a door open, entering into one of the towers, and began to walk down the spiral staircase to the space below. He figured that the word would be spreading, like word of his sudden rise to power in eastern Pescala had, calling for anyone versed in the dealings with Spirits. If all went to plan, someone would come, and that someone would find the Spirit that had taken his very soul. Filip assumed that someone would show eventually, but he couldnt be so certain they would be successful in their endeavor. But if they were, he would be able to feel again, to truly experience all he had built with his time with no feeling, no sense of pain or fear, where nothing could truly hurt him and he could not be stopped. Hopefully, when he could feel again, it would all be worth it. And hopefully, whoever the King would surely send to capture him would not get to his soul first.

A MAN OF NOBLE TASTES

Confederacy Of Southern Lords, Toulon, Town Of La Petite Rouche, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Knight Commander Antonin sat in the local tavern, watching stone faced as three local men engaged in a friendly bout of hitting one another. To an outside observer, it would appear as if they were fighting, but Antonin had spent enough time in the area to know that for whatever reason, this was how the men enjoyed spending their time in Toulon. First one man would gather his friends, bet them on who could hit the hardest, and they would all go around in the circle hitting each other in the chest with as much force as they could muster. Inevitably someone would get hit in a way they wouldn't like, and would swing on the person who had done the hitting, and from there all involved parties would dog pile in and begin to beat the ever living shit out of one another until they were all winded, bloodied and laughing on the floor while their wives looked on in embarrassment. Antonin had expected the biggest man of this group to win, as he had seemed like the most rugged out of the three, but now as the three men had begun the second phase of the game instead it appeared that the skinny one was going to win. Certainly not the strongest but the man was wily and agile, and willing to take advantage of any opportunity he could get his hands on. Antonin sighed in annoyance watching the men fight, and took a long drink of his wine. These types of games were better suited to Nordlings or Imperials. They were games for the seafaring peoples, not the people of the Continent.

Turning back towards the bar, Antonin sighed again, breathing in through his nose and then out through his mouth, flagging down the innkeeper for another drink. He and his men had been in this town for all of a month and a half, and hadnt turned up anything on the missing women. At least, nothing they did not already know. The women who had disappeared were from all walks of life, generally ranged from between twenty to thirty, and were all considered to be exceptionally beautiful. One of the women had been an aristocrat, from two towns over, who had come to town in order to attend a salon at the Dubois estate. At first this had seemed bizzare to Antonin, who along with his men had marched straight to the estate to get to the bottom of the mystery. But, aside from being brought inside and showered with praise and food, they had also learned that the woman had not only been seen safely leaving the estate after the party, but had also been safely entering her inn, (the nicest in town, exclusive enough that not even brave knights of the Red Hand were allowed to stay there) but had also been seen safely leaving the next morning. And yet, she had not made it home.

Antonin drank his wine, placing the cup gently back down on the bar and standing. He thanked the innkeeper and payed for his drinks, before carefully picking his way around the three men on the floor, who had all finished hitting one another and were all now laughing and helping one another to their feet. Pushing the doors open, Antonin stepped out onto the street, breathing in the clean southern air and looking up to the Dubois estate on the hill. The town itself was fine, clean and charming, though fairly working class. But many of the others in the area were poor, dingy little places where most of the people made their livings tending the vineyards of the local aristocracy, scraping by on their meager yields from backyard gardens supplemented with whatever they could poach from the nearby woods. Knowing the place they were in, Antonin would not have been surprised to learn that it was Merry Men who were responsible for the recent disappearances, in some sort of convoluted vengeance against the rich.

But still, as Antonin gathered the two men waiting on the stoop outside and began his evening rounds, the large estate loomed over him. There was something about that place that just seemed off. And the timing of the disappearances was right as the Dubois's moved in. It couldnt be a coincidence, but what wass really going on continued to elude Antonins grasp.

[Kaledoria]

ROLAND DE VILAINE

Southern Eudasaine, City of Bastien, One day prior

Roland's birthday was celebrated - as usual - without much commotion. Just three of his colleagues with their wives, Ferrant and Isabea and of course Naddodr, his long time ward and now adopted son. Like the other years, he was silent about the exact age he was getting and people had stopped asking him about it, taking it as a spleen that people in his position were allowed to have. After a bit of social chit-chat, the topic went back to business, and Roland seamed happy with it. The new admissions to the college would arrive in just two weeks and while most spots where already decided, there was still one more vacant seat to the class-size they had in mind. Sadly, none of the candidates really met the standards, that the College was usually expecting of it's students. Still, three of them were still in the race due to the extraordinary amount of money, their families had offered. Ultimately even Roland accepted the financial reality that they needed a full class but at least stood with the demand that out of these three they would take the one who had failed the entrance exam by the smallest margin.

Later, Roland sat together with Naddodr. The old mage knew, his son had spend the last weeks researching his dead mother's connection rune. He was not equally convinced with Naddodr's thesis, that the connection rune had connected Thjodhildr with a spirit being but he did agree, that it had been a very unique connection rune unlike any that was found among College Magi. "Nad," Roland said, "Now that you have finished your studies here - how about you stay at the college and assist the teachers and students. Runology is often one of the more difficult classes for the new students and since connection runes are the very zenith of that class and you know that really good by now, you could help them there a lot. There is basically no payment for that but it would also only take very little of your time and in return you could continue to use the library and the labs." Naddodr was conflicted. He was happy to finally be able to go wherever his search for clues on his quest would take him but he had to agree, that he did not even have a clue where to go and the resources of the College would be very useful for him. He agreed.

Ferrant and Isabea, later that night

It was well past nightfall that Ferrant and Isabea came home. To their suprise, a man waited in front of their house and as they approached he waived a letter: "Madmoiselle Isabea? A letter from your father!" The couple thanked the messenger for waiting for them so long and took the envelope inside. The message read: "Dear Bea, Ferrandin, I hope the winder had been mild for you, down south in beautiful Bastien. It certainly has been a mild winter here in Bayeux but then we had an unexpected late night of frost on the 1st out of time." Ferrant sighed. He knew that his father in law was not particular font of the social rules involved in writing a letter and could not understand, he slavishly obeyed them nevertheless. Writing about the weather. But ultimately he got the point of what he was writing for. "The wife of a former servant of mine, Camille, is in distress. Her daughter Alice has disappeared. She fears her to have been abducted - or maybe she hopes so as the alternative would be that she was killed in the woods by some beast. Ferrandin, you are one of the most capable men I know and you know people in the city. My wife used to be friends with Camille's mother, if it is possible for you, could you come over for a visit and see if you can find out what happened to poor Alice? Give Baudri, Guinand and Hunna hugs from their grandparents. Regards, Philippe."

Isabea was concerned: "Darling, I think I remember Camille from before I moved to Gaillard. She was just a few years older then me. Hew mother and mine were close until Mama married, I think. Please. As far as I know Roland was not about to leave his College for the next two weeks anyway and does not need you on stand-by, does he?" Ferrant nodded. This time of the year he could indeed do pretty much what he wants. "Well I guess, the day is not over for me, yet," he said and picked up an extra scarf and his sword just to be save on the streets at this time. In most other cities it would have probably been absurd but Bastien was not only the home of one of the best Mage Colleges on the continent but also one of the two biggest trade ports in Eudesaine and in fact dock workers were busy loading goods onto ships even in torchlight in the middle of the night.

"Heading north? I need to get to Bayeux quick." Ferrant asked the workers as he arrived at the docks. Right on the second ship he found someone with that direction in mind. "We don't go up any rivers but if you ask the captain and bring a good payment for the passage, we can probably leave you out at Porte Boudin, from there you can take a barge or if you are good on food, reach Bayeux walking, it's just 8, maybe 10 hours." Ferrant was happy and wanted to book a passage right away but the dockworker - and sailor - stopped him right there: "The guys who can make this decision are probably asleep by now. Just be here before dawn tomorrow. We should then be at Porte Boudin by noon of the 2nd."

[Tysklandia]

Thomas Waudman & Kasha Skrobiana

THE HUNT FOR THE GIRL IN THE WOODS

Northern Eudasaine, Somewhere south of the Village Of Pontoise, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth, Late morning

The breeze was still cold... Carrying the last hints of winter, accompanied by the smell of blooming flowers and the approach of the summer seasons. Thomas smiled as he delved his hands back into the cold river water, before splashing his own face. The simple pleasures in life, he thought to himself with a smile as blood began fading from his hands and mingling with the river water. His own visage stared back at him once the water, a face filled with old scars, mired with a few remaining splotches of blood. With a small sigh, he continued washing himself up, the two mangled bodies, lying a few feet behind him slowly growing cold.

After a little while of cleaning himself of blood and grime, approaching hoofbeats and the telltale noise of a horse galloping through the woods could be heard in the distance. Thomas rose to his feet, his boots digging into the gravelly shore of the small river. As he stared for a moment in the direction of the approaching noise, his eyes glanced towards the camp and then to the bodies, his sword still sticking through one of their chests. He was a good distance from the road, the campsite he had chosen the day before being somewhat away from the beaten track and next to a small river, a traveler on horseback could mean only so many things in this situation...

After a few moments the rhythm of the hoofbeats and the direction of approach told him enough. By the time Kasha strolled into the camp, Thomas was once again dressed and preparing to break camp.

"By the Allfather! What is this shit Thomas?" Kasha yelled out loudly, an undertone of annoyance clearly present, more so than surprise. She remained seated on her horse as she trotted towards the two unmoving men, observing their haphazard dress and the poor, improvised state of their weaponry. A look of surprise and horror forever etched on their faces.

“I tried ‘talking’ to them as you always do, they didn’t listen.” Thomas replied bluntly as he checked the kitting of his horse. “They never do, are you sure you don’t use your fancy magic?”

Kasha scoffed as she dismounted, observing the trampled mess their little camp site had become. “I don’t, you oaf. It’s called being nice, you should try it sometimes.” She groaned as she kneeled next to a scattering of her belongings, to make inventory... a quick glance was enough. An ink bottle shattered and a few of her books covered in grime and dirt.

“They wouldn’t see reason anyway. You know how it is, the winter has been cold, people think they can make a quick coin robbing travelers once spring comes about.” Thomas replied, as if such things as these were merely a fact of life. Kasha’s only reply was a sigh and an annoyed glance as she continued to clean up her belongings.

“Did you find everything in town? I’d prefer to make good time to Heinlen if we have everything we need.” The man in black asked, as finished tightening the straps on his armor.

“Ah! Yes! I found something really interesting!” Kasha piped up, as if remembering something of grave importance as she stood up, a pair of her dirt covered books still in hand. “Their was a job posting in town and I sa-“

A sigh interrupted her, followed by a gruff reply. “Did you at least get the food?”

Kasha rolled her eyes as she waved her hand “Yes, yes, I got enough provisions to get us into Kringlind at least.” She tilted her head and continued with a muttering voice. “Not easy to do, with how little coin you have.”

Thomas turned and glared. “How little coin WE have, you little bloodsucker.” He muttered curses and damnations, along with colorful remarks of her own, non-existent finances, under his breath as he made his final preparations to break camp.

“But aaaaanyway, such silly complaints aside! Don’t you want to know what I discovered?” Kasha continued in a happy, somewhat childish tone as she made her own final preparations.

“Does it involve damsels or children in distress?” Thomas replied in a deadpan voice as he mounted his horse, checking the rope that tied his own mount to his spare horse that was saddled with most of their belongings.

Kasha scoffed. “You are such a cynic; do you know that Thomas? I swear, you must be infected with some curse that simply sucks out all the joy in your life.”

“Yes, you.” Thomas replied. A reply that had come a tad bit too quickly for it to be construed as a joke, considering Kasha’s damning gaze. “Come on then… What is it?” He replied after a few moments of awkward silence, hoping that humoring her would avoid Kasha from casting whatever curse, verbal, psychological or magical she was cooking up in her head.

“So, there is a missing chil-“ A groan from Thomas threatened to interrupt her, but Kasha quickly raised her hand as she mounted her own horse, tilting it around as they prepared to leave.

“Come oooon, we have done nothing but ride for over a week now. I’m bored stiff. And the road to Heinlen will take weeks still. Let us just check this out. It could be a werewolf? A spirit? A roaming Ghoul? Who knows!!” Kasha’s voice peaked at the end, near childish excitement peaking with her own imaginative set of situations.

“Or it could be brigands, or wolves or the child just got… lost?” Thomas replied deadpan as he motioned his horse to begin moving through the woods, towards the road.

“It will only take a little while and I KNOW that you really need to let loose a bit…” Kasha added matter of fact, as she gestured towards to the two bodies they were leaving behind.

A deep groan erupted from Thomas his throat and Kasha continued her attempts to convince him. The Young woman utterly ignored his lack of response as she continued to prattle on, the sly smile forming on her face knowing she had already won the verbal battle between them as Thomas turned his horse, ever so slightly, in the direction of the village.

~~~~~~~

THE HUNT FOR THE GIRL IN THE WOODS

Northern Eudasaine, Village Of Pontoise, House of Camille, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth, Noon

Thomas gently patted the neck of his mount with one hand as he held the reigns with the other, all the while glancing at the passing villagers as they looked at him in turn. It was normal to him, to be looked at as an unwanted guest. When beasts or spirits needed to be slain or driven off, a black cloak was often a welcome sight, but otherwise his presence often put people at unease... Rumors often quickly spread and Bailiffs rarely enjoyed the visit of a heavily armored man from an organization that was mysterious in its goals and loyalties. Confusion and Rumor were never a good combination in small villages. Thomas always attempted to pass through them quickly, to avoid any trouble if at all possible.

With his somewhat impressive height and his black travelling cloak wrapped around his large, imposing frame, leaving only his face bear, he made quite the strange visitor for an otherwise rather tranquil little village. The various swords, bolts and weapons attached to his belt and horse were not something that would put the average peasant at ease either...

"Kasha, get this done. I'd rather not spend more time in this place than we need to." Thomas said bluntly as Kasha walked up to the door, the notice from the job-board in her hand. "Don't worry so much, I’m sure everything is fiiine." She replied as she knocked on the door thrice...

[UniversalCommons]

The Rat Catcher of Heinlein

Dun flicked the switch at Ed who trotted carefully forward into the cobbled streets of Heinlein from the dirt road. It was a cold, but clear day. He was there to drop off some paint, purple wine, and charcoal for a house at the edge of the town. Ed clopped steadily along until they reached the house. He knocked on the door and a man with unruly hair and a purple robe opened the door.

"Are you the alchemist, Dun?"

"Yes, I am. I have your wine, paint, and charcoal. It will be twelve pieces of gold. Do you need anything else? We have ink, rock quills, and ink away."

"No, not right now. Not right now."

Dun gets a package wrapped in paper and hands it to the man.

The man rummages in a bag and takes out the gold handing two more gold pieces as a tip. "You came on time. Thank you."

The man closes the door.

Dun thought, "His house, it doesn't usually look like that."

Dun takes the donkey through a winding street until he reaches an inn. He hands the stable boy a few copper coins to watch Ed and goes into the inn.

He waits for Kay Lynn, the waitress who brings him a bowl of mutton stew and a piece of black bread, what he usually takes on his round. The stew comes from a big pot on the fire and is cheap, but has carrots and onions in it. He sips his stew in silence. He usually does not like to talk.

He notices, the inn keepers apprentice, Boris is not around. The young man always has a joke to tell him. He asks, “Where is young Boris?”

Kay Lynn looks around nervously, “He disappeared with the other children, taken into the woods by a man with a pipe.”

Dun, “What do you mean? What is happening around here?” His interest is peaked.

Kay Lynn, “Speak to the inn keeper. It is bad luck to talk about these things. There is magic involved and shady tricks. Nothing good comes from the mayor. Best I stay out of it.”

Dun finishes his bowl of stew and goes to speak to Leon who seems to be in a dour mood.
“Hello, Leon is there any way I can help.”

Leon, “Go to the center of town, there is a notice for a reward. It will tell the story. I don't want to talk about it. You were always kind to Boris though. I tell you, I don't trust that damned aelman though. Him sneaking around the woods and stuff. Can't trust them with their long noses and pointy ears. Always looking for trouble I tell you.”

Dun, “What about the aelmen?”

Kay Lynn, “Well he bagged a boar. Hear it may have come from the kings wood though? You never know with these aelmen. He even gave it some knights. There is a reward, wouldn't try it though. Too dangerous. The sign is in the center of town.”

Dun got up from his seat and paid several copper for his meal.

Then he headed out the door picking up Ed. He would not stay at the inn, it was too expensive. There was a farmer who took wild onions and star fairy flowers for his lodging in a corner of a barn with Ed. It was a safe place. The farmer kept two large dogs Fang and Sergeant to protect his property who had gotten used to him.

He dropped off Ed and walked to the center of town. There was a notice board with a picture of a man with brown eyes, a green cap and a flute. Underneath the picture was the word, “Wanted Rat Catcher for Stealing the Childen of Heinlein.” Bring our children back and catch the rat catcher dead or alive. Further information is available from Felix, steward of Heinlein. Reward available.

Dun's neck itched. He frowned. He needed to know more about what happened. It was a dangerous thing. He could not travel or ply his trade where children were stolen. He took one more look at the sign.

[The Hoosier Alliance]

Confederacy Of Southern Lords, Toulon, Town Of La Petite Rouche, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Last night as I lay dreaming,
I sailed the raging foam,
and the ship took me far away,
to the rocky shores of home.
And I could write a thousand lines,
to say how I feel,
but I hope that one day,
it will be real.

Fredrick Achen pursed his lips as he leaned against the wooden beam supporting the awning over the porch of the small tavern. "That doesn't sound right, now does it, George?" he said to the man standing on the other side of the steps leading to the tavern.

"What?" George, a knight of the Red Hand, said, furrowing his eyebrows and looking quizically at Fredrick.

"The song. It doesn't flow very well. I mean, the structure is there, but it doesn't roll off the tongue. Damn. I've been working hard on this, and I'm no closer to finishing it than I was two weeks ago."

George shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about, Fredrick?"

Fredrick feigned a look of shock and hurt, "My, my, my. George! Are you telling me you haven't been paying me any mind as I've been trying to write this song? I'm wounded, dear sir! Wounded. You've done it. You've truly done it this time. My love of music is dead."

George rolled his eyes. "Thank the All-Father. Maybe now I can have a few minutes of peace and quiet."

Fredrick chuckled with George as he returned to his music, softly playing his lute and whispering slightly different lyrics to himself.

George looked back at him as he played and asked with a laugh, "Which one are you working on now? The one about the shieldmaiden with the massive breasts she smothers her enemies with?"

"No," Fredrick said, keeping a stone-cold look as he glared into George's eyes, "And don't you ever laugh when talking about the Life and Death of Busty Brenda again! It's almost done and will be a fucking masterpiece. This is the one I'm writing about the Twelve Islander I met during my travels through my homeland. Well, trying to write."

George nodded. "What do you think about all these missing women?"

Fredrick shrugged as he fiddled with his lute, "Probably some creepy, lonely bastard who gets his kicks from forced...interaction. Might be those Merry Men, like the Commander said, but considering who they target, I think it's safe to assume they'll still check the "creepy bastard" box. However, I heard the Commander say that it all started when those Dubois people moved in, so it could be them."

"What would they want with young beauties?"

Fredrick stopped messing with his lute for a moment to look up at the sky and think.

"I dunno. They're nobles. Maybe it's how they make their money, selling young brides. Maybe the head of the family wants a harem. Or..." Fredrick turned and began to wiggle his fingers at George, his eyes exaggeratedly wide, and loudly whispered, "Maybe they're...CANNIBALS!" George shook his head. "Nonsense."

Fredrick proceeded to walk stiff-legged towards George, his eyes half-closed, arms outstretched, and moving up and down, as he said, "Raw! Raw! Raw!" to mimic a child's version of monster noises.

"Stop," George said, leaning away from him, trying to suppress an annoyed laugh.

"I can't. I hunger for human fleshhhhhhhh!" Fredrick grabbed George's arm, brought it to his mouth, and pretended to rip chunks of meat off of him.

"You're an idiot."

A group of passersby noticed the strange event and stopped to look, whispering amongst themselves as they watched, intrigued.

"People are watching."

"Then, I'll have to eat them too!"

"Oi! Fuck off!"

"Once the hunger takes me, I cant st-" Fredrick was cut off as George punched him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and breaking the trance on the onlookers. Fredrick fell to his knees, holding his stomach, and said, in barely a whisper, "Your mother is a whore," as he struggled to breathe. "I told you to stop," George said, shaking his head.

As Fredrick struggled to his feet, Knight Commander Antonin walked outside. George saluted the man quickly, while Fredrick pretended to bow to conceal the fact his stomach hurt. Antonin gave Fredrick a questioning look but chose not to pursue the matter. "Come," he said, taking the lead, "We've rounds to do."

Fredrick stumbled into lockstep with George as they flanked the Commander from behind, following him on their patrol. "Commander?" Fredrick said, sliding the strap of his lute over his back as he walked.

The Commander sighed, "Yes, Achen?"

"Have you heard anything about the missing women?"

Commander shook his head. "No."

"I think we should look into the Dubois's again. I think they know something they're not telling us."

"What makes you say that, Achen?"

"It's just...the way they've done everything. All this shit started when they moved in, as you said. They bring us in, shower us with gifts and food, and make sure we know how much they love us. They seem too...nice."

George shook his head, "You'd prefer they shit on us and throw us out?"

"No. It's just...everything about what they said, what they gave us, just seemed...odd. I dunno. Might be nothing, I'm no genius, but it just seems off. What do you think, Commander?''

Antonin stopped walking, almost causing George and Fredrick to bump into him. "I think you're right, Achen."

Fredrick stuck his thumbs in his ears, wiggled his fingers, and stuck out his tongue at George while the Commander looked up at the Dubois estate.

"They won't let us snoop around unattended though. So, I have a plan."

Antonin turned around as Fredrick stopped taunting George and said, "George and I will head to the Dubois estate tomorrow at dawn, with some new 'questions' for them to answer. Fredrick, I want you to snoop around. Dig up any dirt you can. Just, for the love of the All-Father, don't get caught."

Fredrick smiled, gave an exaggerated salute, and said, "I won't let you down! Spy-master Achen is on the case!"

Antonin, unamused, sighed and returned to walking the patrol.

[Kaledoria]

ROLAND DE VILAINE

Southern Eudasaine, City of Bastien, 2nd Of The Month Of Rebirth

Naddodr had taken over library duty mostly so that none of the teachers would complain about the mess he was creating. As Roland was checking up on him, more then half of reading corner was scattered with pieces of paper, runological cornerstones and focusses. In one area, he had removed the carpet and drawn a ritual circle on the floor. Roland pressed his lips together but he would not say anything. The students would not visit the library before the courses started so it was not like Naddodr was bothering anyone. "So, ... you need any help?" Roland asked. "Yeah, thanks," The younger mage was glad he could explain what he had come up with. "So, you said, that basically divination could find out anything, because past, present and future, any time and space can be visited in Aetha..." - "Yes, but we tried this," Roland answered, "The question is to vague and the connection to remote, and divinations brought us no result on your quest. Basically, you can not search Aetha like you would search a room, you need a link, ... a thread to follow, you can not just search the link itself."
Naddodr waived towards the books: "Well, so I will have to look in the books instead. The problem is, that there are so many of them. However, here I can ask a very specific question and the target is very close, at least physically. I'm optimistic my new spell will work. I'm calling it 'Index' and what it does is that it shows me all the books that contain certain words, so I can read in them and maybe get a starting point for finding out, how the connection rune of my mother worked. Look, I even included a translation sub-spell for the books that are not written in Castan Mare." He pointed to a smaller section of the circle on the floor with an additional smaller circle and runic symbols. Roland looked over it and nodded. His interest had been caught: "Very good. Yes, yes. Drop the translation spell. They are unreliable. Better write it down in all the languages, including both the ecclesiastical and historical form if they are different. I can help you there." Roland looked further onto the papers in and around the circle and slowly realized the order in the chaos. It had always been easy for Roland to read Naddodr's spells, possibly because they were connected.

A few hours later they were ready to cast the spell. They sat down as their mind would mostly wander the Aetha in this ritual, leaving only a tiny split back in the physical realm, as an anchor. They traveled along the rails of this alien space changing around them until they reached what appeared to be the metaphysical manifestation of the information they were looking for. They held to it and fell back, thereby connecting the Mana with the connection runes in the space around them. Pentagons, triangles and squares, the Magic was broken down by the mages will and reconnected by their magic design. As they opened the eyes, they could see several books in the library glowing. Quickly they walked around taking notes of each books location and title. It were 20 in total. "A narrower defined search could be useful. But anyway, this is a really helpful spell and I don't know why we do not have something like this in place to begin with. This can help so many student who want to learn beyond the twenty-something standard works that they read in their education here. I will speak with the head of Divinations that we install a reusable ritual place here to the same effect as your makeshift circle. Well done."

Naddodr smiled. For him the spell had been more about this specific divination he had been looking for. Like probably many mages before him, he imagined, who had written a single singular-use spell, cast it and forgot about it. But his father thought further then this, though about making a process out of it. Not just a competent mage but also a competent administrator.

FERRANT - THE HUNT FOR THE GIRL IN THE WOODS

Northern Eudasaine, 2nd Of The Month Of Rebirth

The winds had been kind and Ferrant arrived at Bayeux earlier then expected. After checking in with his parents in-law (they were able to tell him, the Girl probably vanished on the Pontoise-Bayeux road but could tell him nothing new besides this), he thought about what to do next: He could talk with the mother, the local lords and law and of course he could walk the road to Pontoise himself. He realized that a well-armed man doing freelance investigations was concerning to the local lords if proper form was ignored and so he went to the noble in charge of the land and introduced himself and pointed out, that he was investigating on behalf of Monsieur Philippe. Isabea's father - while just a freemen - was well-known and liked around here.
After this, he walked over to the Châtelain to find out, what the town guard knew about this, whether there were similar cases, what their theory was and possibly, whether they could name him a good tracker in town, that he might be able to hire for an afternoon.

[Skaldia]

Hugh Winter
Juniper, small town outside Toulon
Confederacy Of Southern Lords
Sunset, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth
____________________________________
Hugh was jarred awake by his shoulder being tussled. He growled. He wanted to return to what he had lost, the dream fading away as consciousness yanked him to awake. Not back to the present with all it's aches and pains and terrors. He grumbled darkly, rolling over to his side and away from the offending hand that shook him. Groggily, he remembered where he was and who he was dealing with. Screw the bitch, he thought darkly. He wasn't going to move out of the bed until he was well and truly rested. Which probably meant he would be living in the bed, preferably for the next two or three years. Maybe, just maybe, he would be ready to leave the bed by then. But oh, how comfortable was this small bed? Like heaven to his battered flesh and bones. If she wanted to get up and move like her ass was on fire, she was welcome to it.

“Wake up.” She hissed impatiently. Something in her tone had him opening his eyes slowly. Outside the window, day was turning to dusk and he he wondered at her urgency. He had planned for them to leave before dawn for Toulon. That meant they still had several more hours before they had to worry about making their way out of the town. Maybe, depending on how he was feeling, he would resume his attempts at bending the proud warrioress in new and exciting ways? Damn the risks. If he wasn't risking life and limb, especially in the pursuit of pleasure, what was he living for?

As wakefulness returned to him, alarms began to ring in his head. Sounds of shouting below. That wasn't normal. That was downright abnormal. He shifted from his side to sit up in the bed to see the warrioress getting dressed. He frowned as buttocks disappeared in breaches and the woman turned to him and tossed him his shirt."Get out. My husband and his buddies are back." That had Hugh moving at blinding speed, clothes almost magically finding him as he absorbed the news that 1) the woman was married and 2) her husband and presumably several of his friends had come home.

Once dressed and geared with all the bare few accouterments he had brought with him on this rendezvous, he paced over to the window. He barely cracked the shutter to look out in to the darkness. The town of Juniper was silent but torch sconces near the entrance below them gave him an idea of what was waiting. Alongside Char, Hugh's horse, there was a dozen more horses now tied to posts. Each horse wore a uniformed caparison in the dark, but the night made it impossible to make out just exactly what they were. But Hugh had a guess.

He cursed a long colorful string of words that would have made John Axton blush if he had heard them. He turned around and gave Sarah a small smile of apology."I'd hate to leave so early but," He gave a shrug to which Sarah responded with a rude gesture. He would have laughed if a great splintering crash against the other side of the door interrupted such. A roar of anger as the heavy door did not give behind the force of the blow and Hugh glanced once more at Sarah before hefting the wound open.

He was just climbing out when another crash from the other side of the door came thundering against the door except this time it was accompanied by the splintering of wood. He glanced back to see that someone had taken an axe to the wood of the door, several inches of gleaming metal already bursting through.

He had no time to wait. He hopped from the eave of the roof to the ground below cursing as his ankle almost rolled under him and scuffing his knees against the ground. Cursing, wiping dirt from his hands, shouts of outrage could now be heard from the room as Hugh untied Char from the horse post and slid up onto the giant horse's back. With a click of his tongue and soft tap of his heels against Char's flanks and the horse was trotting at half gallop down the road. With Sarah to act as a means of keeping the men at bay, he would continue on to hopefully make some money in nearby Toulon. He looked back and grinned as something came arcing out of the room towards the ground below.

________________________________________________________________________

Toulon, Town Of La Petite Rouche
Confederacy Of Southern Lords
Evening, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth
____________________________________
He had arrived in the evening in Toulon as he had hoped for. He hated such large settlements, especially in the heat of the South. He was a mountain boy first and foremost and so still possessed a genuine dislike for warm weather defined as being a few degrees warmer than freezing. Despite that, he was welcome to be here, even though he once again wondered at what temporary insanity had compelled him to seek out this particular objective? No doubt, as he had drank with those boys in the Red Hand, he had thought it a good idea to try and rescue fair (and hopefully virginal) maidens from some dastardly plan?

But now, in the cold light of the rising moon, he realized the monetary gains might be next to negligible. He needed that first and foremost. He hadn't even liked the idea of Sarah tagging along since it meant he would have to share whatever bounty he gleaned from this. It had meant he had been in no particular rush to save the woman from her angry husband in the guard. Despite having lost her as an in to getting information from the investigating Red Hand, he still believed his own charm and wit would work well in acquiring whatever information he needed. And after a few pints most people's lips wouldn't stop flapping.

With such optimism serving to keep him going, he slid from the saddle of his horse and tied it to the post outside a Toulon inn. It was too dark to see the name of the place, but he had followed the reliable directions of a hag on the way here. My, had she been hideous to look at but she'd been friendly to. Plus, a couple of horses in the livery of the Red Hand were now tied alongside that of Char. It was good enough evidence as any he was going to find and he strode with an easy step into the inn.

It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the place but once they had he nodded his head approvingly. Aye, this was a good place as any, he thought as he noted the smoked glass of the lanterns and warm, but not stuffing, heat being provided by the fire. Most of the patrons had gone to bed and the innkeeper was absently wiping the counter down with a rag that looked filthier than a whore's bed sheet. It reminded Hugh not to try and eat anything the place provided but it was a good indication of where to start. The portly innkeeper looked up and noticed the approaching form of Hugh with a frown."Get out. The boys in red have drained my stock dry and taken most of the rooms. Nothing here for you."

A flash of a coin on the dirty counter and Hugh looked down at the innkeeper."As luck would have it, I require neither from you barman. Just point me in the direction of one of them that hasn't yet drowned in his cups." The coin on the counter disappeared faster than an Isleman's knife hand and the Innkeeper nodded over Hugh's shoulder to where the fireplace was. Hugh turned to give the foyer near the fireplace a more appreciative glance. As he did, plucks of music from something could be heard and the mumbling of a drunk skald. He gave the barman a word of thanks before he made his way over to the fireplace to find a young man in the livery of a Red Hand trying his most to be harmonically soothing but was ending up being irritatingly cacophonous in Hugh's opinion.

Looking down at the young man, a disapproving frown on Hugh's face, he couldn't help but wonder if he would have better luck waiting for one of the veteran Red Hand to wake up. Instead, he was dealt this whelp. Hopefully, the boy could handle his alcohol. He also seemed completely unaware of Hugh's presence. With a scowl, Hugh kicked the extended foot of the Red Hand kid and grunted,"Oi! You! You look like you need another drink."

[Theyra]

Northern Eudasaine
Village Of Pontoise
1st Of The Month Of Rebirth
Nakhu Taghai

"That was quite the eventful trip if I have to say so myself", joyfully said the human leader of the caravan Nakhu was apart of. Saying it loudly and giving a hard pat on Nakhu's back. Flinching slightly at the sudden pain and gave an awkward smile towards the human. The two were sitting at a table inside of the village's tavern while the rest of the caravan was resting inside.

"Yeah, it sure was, and it is good that no one got hurt."

"Partly thanks to you that those bandits that attacked us were cut down." He enthusiastically spoke, "I do not know much about drow but, after seeing you, I have to think that your people are great warriors". Giving Nakhu another loud pat on the back and took a glub of his ale.

Flinching slightly again and clenched his drink tightly, "archery and horseback riding tend to be my people's strong point but, I accept the compliment though I am simply a scholar".

"Scholar? The human sound surprised, "I have never seen a scholar fight like that before but, I guess there is a first time for everything".

"And this is where we part ways," Nakhu took a bite out of his steak and sip from his drunk.

"Suppose it is and you have certainly earned your keep," the man produced a bag of coins from his waist and dropped it near Nakhu's food. "Well, I better be heading out, and if we somehow met again, do not be a stranger", giving Nakhu a soft smile and chugging the last of his beer. Giving a satisfying ahh and gathered the rest of the caravan and left the caravan.

Nakhu certainly did not have a reaction from a human before though he guessed it was well earned. He did not think that any bandit would attack the caravan up here, but, he was wrong about that. Still, such encounters kept his fighting skills sharp. As Nakhu enjoyed the rest of his food and drink, his mind wandered. He has been out in the west for a year now, and there is still much more he can learn about the region. Its people, culture, history, and much more that he could not learn from any book back home across the Final Woods. Though he did not like the feeling of standing out among the humans and elves of the land. The amount of times that people had stared at him and as if had a coin for every time he noticed someone staring at him was enough for a small fortune. Something that he had to come to terms early on and deal with some preconceptions about drow. At least one instance was from a human scholar who had heard of Nakhu traveling nearby and wanted to ask questions about the drow and the empire. He was paid for his time, and it was a relaxing time, and Nakhu asked his own share of questions about the region as well.

So far, Nakhu has had a pleasant time in the west despite some problems he had with some of the people and the bandits and thieves that thought a scholar would be easy pickings. Proved them wrong fast though at times he wished he had magic. Then A small ping of pain surfaced on his right hand. Nakhu shifted his gaze towards his hand and stared straight at his rune shaped scar. Grinning his teeth slightly and waited for the pain to go away. The everlasting reminder of why he can't use magic that sometimes gave him pain. Even worse, if struck, Nakhu still had no clue as to why using connection runes and gaining access to the Aether causes him pain. From what he has gathered from years of research, no one has ever heard of this happening and offered no insight into how to reverse it. As if the Stranger cursed him never to use magic, which he has no idea why that happened if that was true.

Once he was finished with his food, Nakhu collected the bag of coins next to him and promptly added it to his coin purse. He had enough to last a while, but, surely there is something to do in this village before he left. Nakhu got up and left the tavern, softly patting his horse before untied it from the hitching post, and got on and went to the announcement board. Once there, Nakhu got off his horse and took a look at it. Everything seems ordinary except for one posting, Nakhu took a closer look at it. It was written poorly probably a peasant wrote it, and it looks like their daughter went missing in the nearby woods. "Hmmm," Nakhu thought about it. He does not need money right now, and he felt like he should at least try and find this lost girl. So without another thought, Nakhu mounted his horse and made his way to the peasant's home.

When he arrived, he got off and noticed that he was not the only one at the home. Two humans by the look of it, and he saw that one of them was holding a notice, must be one from the board, and that he was not the only one that accepted the request. Guess I will be working with these people, Nakhu thought. Better introduce myself, and he cleared his voice and spoke to the two humans. "I guess from that, you are here for finding the girl, and it looks like we will be working together during this". Acting friendly and hoping he does not get some negative reactions he has gotten from some of the humans he has encountered.

[The Hoosier Alliance]

Fredrick Achen tilted his chair back; his feet propped up on the table before him with his lute cradled in his arms and a half-empty mug of ale resting unsteadily on his stomach. He tweaked his instrument inconsistently as he sang, his voice pitchy and with continually changing volumes.

Last night...as I...lay sleepin',
I rode in a...ship.
We went across...the...ocean,
And I went home!

"That's good...really good," he mumbled to himself as he tried to lean forward to grab his notebook without spilling his drink or setting the chair down. He failed several times to swipe it, the alcohol making it difficult, but eventually, he had it in his hands. He jotted down the new and "improved" lyrics in his journal before tossing it back towards the table. He missed, leaned over to try and pick it up, and spilled his ale on the floor.

"Oops!" he said.

He quickly forgot about the notebook as he craned his head to scan the inn's bar, looking for any of his drinking mates from hours before. He had forgotten, but his friends had gone to bed a while ago, too drunk to stay awake or keep drinking.

"Meh. Who needs 'em?"

Fredrick continued to poorly play his lute and sing his song as his eyes drifted closer and closer to slamming shut. Suddenly, someone kicked his propped up leg.

"Oi! You! You look like you need another drink."

"SAILED THE RAGING FOAM!"

Fredrick jolted awake, screaming the lyrics he was absent-mindedly humming as he fell asleep. He looked up, groggily, at the beast of a man standing over him. It took a few moments for the words to sink in. Once they did, Fredrick grinned.

"My dear friend!" he exclaimed as a grin ran ear to ear, and his arms spread out as if to hug the man, "I must say that I do. My dear compatriots have decided to turn in for the night, and I have been left alone. Sit with me, and let us quench our sober!"

Hugh's eyes widened momentarily as the four words screamed at him were enough for him to lean back. He quickly gathered his wits about him though. This might be a bit harder than he thought, he internally confided and glanced up at the innkeeper."Two pints her keep!" He exclaimed loudly indicating with his free hand at the table the pair of men had found themselves at. With a barely coherent curse from across the room, Hugh sat down in the chair to Fredrick's right, making sure to avoid the sword in it's sheath on his belt as he did so.

The boy wore the arms and armor of a Red Hand but in his hands was a lute and a dusty notebook sat on the table. It was all enough to increase Hugh's incredulity up a notch. Combined with the inebriated state of his new host, and the optimism that had propelled him inside the inn was quickly deflating. He rallied though as the innkeeper came over and dropped two pints of brimming ale in front of the two men. When Hugh thought the man would wander off back to his keeping duties, he stood there a marked moment longer than was proper and Hugh glanced up at the man.

The barkeep had the nerve to stand there, foot tapping the floorboards, hands on hips, and a look that would sour an Kriglinder's face. A moment and a light came on over Hugh's head. With a grumble, he reached to his coin belt and returned a moment later to deposit a couple of coins in the man's hand. He gave the barkeep a look that obviously meant fuck off and the barkeep promptly fled.

Turning back to his new friend, Hugh gave Fredrick a hearty grin and lifted his mug."To new friends!" And tipped his mug back.

Fredrick grinned as he leaned forward to grab his mug as it was sat down on the table. He couldn't quite reach it from his tilted position, so he let the chair legs fall back down on the ground, loudly. He took his mug, spilled a few drops as he drew it to his face, and laughed a hearty laugh.

"To new friends!" He almost shouted the words. He tipped the mug back, gulping down the entire thing without taking a breath. Years of wandering and drinking in some of the best, and worst, taverns in all the lands helped him put down incredible amounts of drink.

"P-please," he said, reaching for his coin purse, "Let me b-" he belched, "buy the next round."

Fredrick opened his coin purse, turned it upside down, and tried to empty the contents on the table.

Nothing came out.

"Er...I'll uh, buy you one tomorrow, my dear friend."

Hugh was already sick of the bastard. Not only did he have one of those high, almost feminine, voices but the boy was broke. Figures, he thought as he nodded for another round to be brought to them. This time, he was ready when the barkeep came up, depositing a few more coins than Hugh wanted to give away and grabbing the barkeep's wrist before he could depart after depositing two fresh skeins of ale in front of the two.

"Just bring a pitcher and keep an eye out for my signal." The barkeep scoffed and departed as he went about doing as he was told. Really, the old man didn't have much choice if he wanted to get paid.

With that out of the way, Hugh turned back to the Red Hand and appraised him silently. The man was drunker than Hugh had thought so he felt he could skip some of the pussyfooting he normally would have to do with a more sober, more rational thinking person. As he sipped this time more slowly on the ice cold ale, he brought up the topic he had in mind," Shame about this beauties going missing eh?"

"Huh?" Fredrick said after taking a large swig from his mug. "Oh, yeah. Them. Sure is a shame, I tell you what—no need to worry though, my dear friend. No sir-ee. The Red Hand is on the case! In fact, I'm-" he paused a moment as a puked a little in his mouth. He swallowed it, whispered, "Stay down there, you bastard," and continued, "I'm taking a big role in it meself. Yep. I'm gonna help find those purty ladies, yes sir-ee."

Oh, that was quite interesting, Hugh thought. No doubt this idiot would get killed the first moment shit went sideways, as was the case on these slightly mysterious, deadly missions. It was one of the reasons why Hugh liked working alone. Far fewer chances of some other idiot's mistake making you die at the end.

He leaned away from the vomit tinged breath of his new friend. He reached up and stroked one of the forks of his beard before he indicated the armor the man wore with a wave of his hand." A stalwart warrior such as yourself will, I'm sure, have no difficulty in finding the maidens." He sat back, allowing the silence to build for a moment before he took a sip of his ale.

"But where to start?" He asked, seemingly perplexed by the question.

"That's easy," Fredrick began, taking another large drink of his ale, draining it dry, "There's these folk, yeah? The, uh, Dubois, or some shit. Nobles, I think. All-ah this started when dem folk showed up in town. Dey's downright friendly, though! Too friendly, if ya ask me. Dat's where I'm starting, I tell you what. Could be those Merry Men, o'course. Dey likes messin' with the well-ta-do."

Fredrick extended his mug to Hugh, shaking it slightly to indicate his desire for a refill from the pitcher. He continued, "Could be 'ither one of 'em. Or another. I'm thinking it was the Dubois. I'm going sneaking around tomorrow to check."

He laughed and leaned in, loudly whispering, "But don't tell no one, ya hear? That's a secret between two good friends!"

Hugh had never heard of the Dubois. But that was unsurprising in and of itself. Despite his lofty connections with the rarified gentry, Hugh was a small time noble from the mountains of Krigland, a criminal at that. He'd been out of the loop far too long to keep up with what was going on with the elites, let alone know enough about this particular batch of inbreds. Nor would he be all that surprised if the Dubois were responsible for snatching fair ladies. Nobles had sick tastes.

He'd know firsthand of that.

The Merry Men were also a possibility but no mention of ransom yet had been brought if Hugh was correct. That made them a second, far less distinct possibility. And one that Hugh was loathe to investigate further. He didn't much care for his chances gallavanting into the wood in the hopes of running across a Merry Bastard, let alone one willing to spill any secrets worth mentioning.

"It sounds to me, good friend, that you need someone to watch your back." Hugh leaned in as well, doing his utmost to keep his face neutral lest he taste the last meal he had from having to breathe in more of the Red Hand bard's smell than he had to."How bout it mate? Heroes like you always need a sidekick to cover yer ass, eh?"

"What a wonderful idea!" Fredrick exclaimed. He raised his mug and said, "I would be delighted to have you along. We go to the Dubois estate at dawn. Before that, however, I hope you've got a few more drinks in ya!"

[UniversalCommons]

The Rat Catcher of Heinlein

Dun walked across the street to a small office. He rapped on the door knocker. A short balding man with beady opened the door.

Felix, "Yes, may I help you?"

Dun, "I saw the poster for catching the rat catcher."

Felix, "You don't look like a man who can save our children."

Dun, "I just have a few questions for you. I would like to know a little more."

Felix, "Where is your sword?"

Dun, "I don't have one. May I come in."

Felix, "Yes, alright I don't see how you could help us."

Dun looks around the room, "That is a nice rug and a lovely desk."

Felix, "I got it from the Free City. I had it specially sent to me."

Dun, "It looks like it has silk tassels. I see there is a spot, I can get you a special potion to clean your rug. Only five pieces of silver."

Felix, "Fantastic. Yes of course do sit down."

Dun, "You want to get rid of this rat catcher and save your children. There is a reward."

Felix, "We had rats, really big ones as big as cats. They attacked the livestock and got into the inn basement. They ate the grain at the mill and ate the vegetables in Farmer Gorbachev's garden. It was terrible. We hired a rat catcher to catch them. He was an odd man with big eyes, a silver flute, and a red jacket."

Dun, "Of course, I will help you out. Tell me more of this rat catcher."

Felix, "Well he played his flute and the rats they came and went into the river and drowned. The inn keeper he complained that the rats were not gone. He still heard scratching in his basement. Farmer Gorbachev still complains that his crops are being eaten. The mayor refused to pay him. Now our children, they are taken away from us. He played the flute and the children followed him right into the forest. The rat catcher is somewhere in the forest in some caves. The elf Kaeln knows where the caves are. it is up to you to get them back for us. There is a reward."

Dun, “Do you know where Kaeln is?”

Felix, “Ask the tanner. The elf brings in deer skins to the tanner. He'll know how to find the elf. The reward is 100 pieces of gold.”
Dun, “That is a lot of money. Do you still want the rug cleaner. I'll be back in a minute.”

Felix, “Sure.”

Dun goes and gets the rug cleaner and sprinkles it on the stain. There are some sparkles and the stain disappears.

Felix hands him five pieces of silver. “That was amazing. You know, you just might be able to help us with this.”

Dun nods and heads back to the inn. He gathers his alchemy bag.

Dun goes up to Leon, “I heard you got rat problems.”

Leon, “There is something in my basement. I am afraid to go downstairs. There is a scratching noise.”

One of the patrons, a large man with a tattoo on his bicep laughs, “Why you afraid of that noise. Probably ain't nothing but a rat. He he he.”

Dun, “You want to come with me.”

The man, “Nah just want to get a drink. Put it on my tab.”

Leon, “No more drink.”

Dun, “I'll buy you some drinks if you come with me.”

The man, “I'm Ricky, sure I'll take a drink.”

Dun buys him several drinks.

The inn keeper opens a trap door into the basement. The man stumbles down the stairs. There is a large spider the size of a small basketball near the base of the stairs which is crawling around. The drunk man screams and the spider jumps on him crawling up Ricky's leg.

Dun throws a handful of sleeping powder on Ricky and the spider. Then he grabs the spider smashing it repeatedly into the stone wall of the basement with his bare hands.

Dun waits on the stairs not going any further. Then he pulls Ricky halfway up the stairs. He grabs the spider whose head is mashed and puts it in a bag.

He goes up to the top of the stairs and bangs on the trap door which the inn keeper opens. They drag Ricky up the stairs and lock the trap door.

Dun, “That was not a rat. He shows the Leon the spider. I am not going down there. I am not going down there without some help and a batch of insecticide. No sir. You've got spiders.”

Leon, “That is the ugliest thing, I have ever seen. I'll pay for this.”

Dun, “You need a good exterminator. If I had a few more people to help, I might try it, but not now.”

After five minutes, Ricky wakes up. He says, “I'm getting out of here. Never gonna take a drink again in my life.”

Dun takes the spider body to the cart in the barn and cuts it into pieces for alchemical ingredients. It is not uncommon to run into large spiders, but it is dangerous to face them alone.

He takes some time to read his standard book of monsters. There is a description of how a spider can grow to the size of a large bull with magic. He decides to call it a day and goes to sleep in the barn.

In the morning, he goes to Farmer Gorbachev.

Farmer Gorbachev, “Hello stranger how can I help you.”

Dun, “I hear you are having some problems with creatures eating your garden.”

Farmer Gorbachev, “Yes, all my zucchinis and tomatos are gone. Also all the carrot tops.”

Dun, “Can I see.”

Farmer Gorbachev, “Over here.”

Dun looks and sees some wide slimey trails. “You have snails big ones, but not big enough to be dangerous. Put out barrels of beer and it will drown them.”

Dun and Farmer Gorbachev go to the inn and Farmer Gorbachev buys two kegs of beer. They take off the tops and leave them out.

Dun comes back later in the day. They have several drowned snails, each about three inches across.

Dun, “You can cook them with butter and onions. They are very tasty. That should take care of your problem.”

Farmer Gorbachev shakes Dun's hand. He give him five pieces of gold to add to his pouch and five big snails.

Farmer Gorbachev, “I hear that you are helping with our disappearing children. Don't trust the mayor. He doesn't always pay people. He gives people work though if you help him out. My daughter Iva she is gone. I hope she gets back. It was one morning, very early in the morning. There was this music before the crack of dawn. The children they up and got out of their beds just before the cock crows and marched into the forest. Half of us didn't even see they were leaving. Please bring back my Iva. I miss her.”

After he is done talking with Farmer Gorbachev, he heads to the tanners. There are several deer skins stretched on frames as well as few skins of cow. It smells terrible. A man in a leather apron is scraping some skins.

The tanner looks at him, “Why are you here. We don't usually get wizards around here. I hear you helped Farmer Gorbachev. Don't trust no wizards.”

Dun, “I am not a wizard. I am an alchemist and trader.”

The tanner, “Same difference to me. What you want?”

Dun, “Do you know where Kaeln the aelman is?”

The tanner, “No idea, some knights is looking for him as well. Nope, not here. Probably somewhere in them woods. Maybe you can ask them fancy knights.” The tanner spits.

Dun, “What is your name.”

The tanner, “Don't give my name to no wizard. You look at me wrong and I be dancing your jig. No sir.”

Dun, “Ah well. Guess I have to look elsewhere. Thanks.”

The tanner, “You best be getting along. This here is my land and I don't want no wizards y'here.”

A big man with an axe comes out of one tanning sheds and stares at Dun.

Dun walks away.

[The Twelve Isles]

Thomas Waudman & Kasha Skrobiana

THE HUNT FOR THE GIRL IN THE WOODS

Northern Eudasaine, Village Of Pontoise, House of Camille, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth, Noon

Thomas gently patted the neck of his mount with one hand as he held the reigns with the other, all the while glancing at the passing villagers as they looked at him in turn. It was normal to him, to be looked at as an unwanted guest. When beasts or spirits needed to be slain or driven off, a black cloak was often a welcome sight, but otherwise his presence often put people at unease... Rumors often quickly spread and Bailiffs rarely enjoyed the visit of a heavily armored man from an organization that was mysterious in its goals and loyalties. Confusion and Rumor were never a good combination in small villages. Thomas always attempted to pass through them quickly, to avoid any trouble if at all possible.

With his somewhat impressive height and his black travelling cloak wrapped around his large, imposing frame, leaving only his face bear, he made quite the strange visitor for an otherwise rather tranquil little village. The various swords, bolts and weapons attached to his belt and horse were not something that would put the average peasant at ease either...

"Kasha, get this done. I'd rather not spend more time in this place than we need to." Thomas said bluntly as Kasha walked up to the door, the notice from the job-board in her hand. "Don't worry so much, I’m sure everything is fiiine." She replied as she knocked on the door thrice...

Northern Eudasaine
Village Of Pontoise
1st Of The Month Of Rebirth
Nakhu Taghai

When he arrived, he got off and noticed that he was not the only one at the home. Two humans by the look of it, and he saw that one of them was holding a notice, must be one from the board, and that he was not the only one that accepted the request. Guess I will be working with these people, Nakhu thought. Better introduce myself, and he cleared his voice and spoke to the two humans. "I guess from that, you are here for finding the girl, and it looks like we will be working together during this". Acting friendly and hoping he does not get some negative reactions he has gotten from some of the humans he has encountered.

Camille picked her head up off of her knees when she heard three sharp knocks on her door, and looked around her small house with red puffy eyes. She blinked, sniffed,and wiped the last of the tears from her eyes dully picking herself up off of the floor. She reached down and pulled her knocked over table upwards, picking up what few belongs had been scattered and placing them on top before shuffling towards the door and pulling it open, coming face to face with a young woman who seemed barely out of being just a girl.

It took Camille a moment, as she glanced over the girl. The first thing she noticed was that her hair was exceptionally red, and the second thing she noticed was that behind her sat a man on a horse. She opened her mouth to ask them what it was they wanted, expecting the young woman to say that they were travelers looking for directions. No one who lived in Pontoise could afford a horse, let a long three, two for people and one for supplies. But before she could speak, she paused. The man was large, broad, and wore over his shoulders a long black robe. With him were three swords, two long swords an a massive zweihander, strapped to his horse. Snapping her eyes back to the girl, Camille noticed that she too was wearing armor, though it was only a light cuirass, and it all clicked in her head as she threw herself in the girls arms and hugged her close.

"Oh, All Fathers mercy," she sobbed into the girls neck, hugging her tighter than she had ever hugged anyone before. "Thank you, thank you so much." Camille held the young woman a moment longer, before stepping back and holding the girl at arms length by her shoulders, turning her head to face the Black Cloak on the horse. "Thank you," she said again. "Thank you, I didnt think anyone was going to come."

As she spoke, Camille noticed that there was one more. A man, a Drow, stood slightly to the side, holding a notice in his hand like the girl had been. Camille smiled, held a hand to her mouth to try and stop herself before she began to cry again, and said, "are you here for my daughter as well? Please, please, I'll do anything."

FERRANT - THE HUNT FOR THE GIRL IN THE WOODS

Northern Eudasaine, 2nd Of The Month Of Rebirth

The winds had been kind and Ferrant arrived at Bayeux earlier then expected. After checking in with his parents in-law (they were able to tell him, the Girl probably vanished on the Pontoise-Bayeux road but could tell him nothing new besides this), he thought about what to do next: He could talk with the mother, the local lords and law and of course he could walk the road to Pontoise himself. He realized that a well-armed man doing freelance investigations was concerning to the local lords if proper form was ignored and so he went to the noble in charge of the land and introduced himself and pointed out, that he was investigating on behalf of Monsieur Philippe. Isabea's father - while just a freemen - was well-known and liked around here.
After this, he walked over to the Châtelain to find out, what the town guard knew about this, whether there were similar cases, what their theory was and possibly, whether they could name him a good tracker in town, that he might be able to hire for an afternoon.

A young guard knocked three times on the Guard Captains door, frowning to himself as he awaited the mans inevitable anger. Behind the door, there was two voices, a man and a womans, and after a brief bit of chatter between them both quickly fell quiet, as if waiting for him to leave or think no one was there. Never one to be dissuaded, the guard reached out and knocked on the door again. Inside, he heard the Captain shout, "Strangers cock!" followed by a series of bangs, clunks and thuds before the door whipped open and the guard found himself face to face with the Captain, who glared down at him, shirtless and shoe-less, as he buckled his pants back up. Behind him, the guard could see a woman, trying to cover herself with the Captains bed sheets and shooting an angry look his way.

"Dammit boy, what is it? Do you realize you have interrupted a night of romance and new experiences for me you little shit?"

The guard peered into the room, where he could see a single dingy fire, the Captains rough desk, a knocked over chair and cheap wine next to the straw stuffed bed. He raised an eyebrow as he looked back at the Captain, who's face became as red as a tomato and twisted in on itself with rage.

"Spit it out already you damn potlicker!" he bellowed, little flecks of spittle flying from his mouth.

"There's a man at the gates Captain," said the guard. "We would have sent him away but, well, he appeared well to do Captain."

The Captain narrowed his eyes, and looked over his shoulder as if trying to decide how much he cared for his duties over sex. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind, and said in a gruff manner, "wait here," before slamming the door in the guards face. The guard half expected the guard to not return, and to hear the sounds of the bed creaking, but instead he heard the Captain argue with the woman as the sounds of trunks being opened sounded, until a few minutes the Captain whipped the door open again and did his best to straighten a clearly dirty shirt as he pulled on his colors.

"Bring me to him," said the Captain, gesturing with his hands as if doing so would make this whole ordeal go faster as he passed by the guard and turned in the direction for the wrong side of the Châtelain.

"Sir?" called the guard, and the Captain turned on his heal to glare at the guard. "Wrong gate sir."

The Captain threw his hands up in the air, groaning, but followed after the guard. The two twisted through the hallways and paths of their little fort, until finally they emerged out into the courtyard where several guards could be seen chatting with the stranger who had arrived and ruined the Captains night. The guard lead the way, coming to the stranger, before saying, "Captain Alexander Dupris, at your service as requested," introducing the Captain.

For his part, Captain Dupris looked down at all present, having managed to cool off some but his anger still palpable just beneath the surface. "Well," he said, "what is it you want wanderer? If you're here to inquest about the bandits on the road to Chateau Valeux, then I assure you I have already deployed men to deal with it, and you can tell whoever sent you to fuck off and let me and my men do our jobs in peace."

The Rat Catcher of Heinlein

Dun, “Do you know where Kaeln the aelman is?”

The tanner, “No idea, some knights is looking for him as well. Nope, not here. Probably somewhere in them woods. Maybe you can ask them fancy knights.” The tanner spits.

Dun, “What is your name.”

The tanner, “Don't give my name to no wizard. You look at me wrong and I be dancing your jig. No sir.”

Dun, “Ah well. Guess I have to look elsewhere. Thanks.”

The tanner, “You best be getting along. This here is my land and I don't want no wizards y'here.”

A big man with an axe comes out of one tanning sheds and stares at Dun.

Dun walks away.

Kaeln stopped walking, dropping the wheelbarrow of deerskins at the back of the tanners shop and wiped his brow. The sun was coming back, or at least, what little sun there was anymore, that is, with the sky burned as it was. It was almost coming to the time when he would no longer be needing his jacket. But right now, it was the unpleasant temperature where with it on he couldn't do anything more strenuous than walking to the outhouse without sweating, but if he took it off he would be shivering.

Sighing in frustration, Kaeln reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flask, taking a long sip of it and smacking his lips, before making his way around the building to the front of the tanners shop. It was odd, he felt, how quiet it was. Usually, there would be children out and about, especially at this time of day. He missed the children, Kaeln had always like kids. He was fine with the adults, most of them were tolerable, but still there was always a slight undercurrent of distrust or dislike. Not to mention the dumber ones, who would "accidentally" knock over his drinks or step on his toes whenever he tried to go to the inn after his day of work was done. But the children, they were still to young to have picked up on the casual distaste for Aelmen that their parents had all long since internalized. Some were starting to change, just the other day he had heard a young man who used to ask him to tell stories about the forest and the beasts therein refer to him as a point ear, but still, he couldn't blame the boy. It wasn't his fault his society didn't like Kaelns.

Rounding the corner, Kaeln came to the tanner, and raised a hand to greet him. "Evening Karl," called Kaeln. "Brought you some deer skins like you was asking about."

Kaeln stopped, noticing a stranger standing in the yard out front. He was not a local. Kaeln knew all the locals. He had always been good with remembering things, faces, information. But this man, this man was new.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"A wizard," said Karl, the tanner. "I don't like his kind, and I don't want him around here. But he was askin after you."

"You mean a mage?" said Kaeln, looking over at Karl.

Karl waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, spitting in the dirt. "I don't care what you wanna call 'im," said Karl. "A wizard, a magi, a sorcerer, whatever he is I don't like them magical types hanging around my shop."

[UniversalCommons]

Dun turned around towards the end of the path. An aelman was talking to the tanner. He kept watching but did not come any closer. The man with the ax began to walk up the path. Kaeln watched. Dun yelled, "Don't follow me."

The man stopped and shook his fist at Dun, "Get off our land. Don't come back."

Dun walked off a little bit disappointed. Dun decided to visit the miller.

When he got there he was greeted by a pair of men who were drinking beer.

Robert stood and said, "How can I help you?"

Dun, "I am Dun, can I look around your property?"

Robert, "Why? I don't know you. What do you want?"

Dun, "I heard you had rats on your property."

Van stands up. "Are you here for the reward? Trying to help find that damn rat catcher."

Dun, "Yes, yes I am."

Robert, "You don't look like much. Follow me."

Dun, "Sure."

Van and Robert take Dun to a basement. There are holes in the wall about the size of a small dog. Some have been boarded over.

Robert, "We had rats, big ones. They ate my cat. I had a right fright when they came into the mill and tried to eat the flour. I was glad I was with Van. Van mashed one of them with a hammer and the rest ran away."

Van, "We went to the mayor asking for help. That was when he brought the funny looking man with the red jacket. Those rats, they followed him right to the river where they drowned."

Dun, "What happened next?'

Robert, "There was some kind of dispute and later that night all the children disappeared. A music was playing before dawn like nothing I had ever heard before, then they were gone."

Dun, "That is it?"

Robert, "That is what I can tell you. I am sure there is more to it. We are small folk and don't get involved in the ways of wizards."

Dun, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Dun went back to the barn with the donkey. He lay back in thought.

[Kaledoria]

(...)
The Captain threw his hands up in the air, groaning, but followed after the guard. The two twisted through the hallways and paths of their little fort, until finally they emerged out into the courtyard where several guards could be seen chatting with the stranger who had arrived and ruined the Captains night. The guard lead the way, coming to the stranger, before saying, "Captain Alexander Dupris, at your service as requested," introducing the Captain.

For his part, Captain Dupris looked down at all present, having managed to cool off some but his anger still palpable just beneath the surface. "Well," he said, "what is it you want wanderer? If you're here to inquest about the bandits on the road to Chateau Valeux, then I assure you I have already deployed men to deal with it, and you can tell whoever sent you to fuck off and let me and my men do our jobs in peace."

Ferrant had silently cursed the fact, that he had asked for "the person in charge". He should have clarified, that if the captain was unavailable, the highest ranking sergeant would be fine. - But then again this early on the evening, there really was little excuse that the Captain was unavailable and it did not seam like the lesser guardsmen had a proper substitute plan or chain of command. He did get the name of a few local hunters and trappers, that he might try to hire but concerning the missing person report, that Camille might or might not have filed, the guardsmen were unwilling to say anything and told him to wait for the captain.

The Captain himself was not a pleasant one but that could possibly be a good thing. Ferrant did not need pleasantries just information. He decided to appeal to the militarism hopefully buried below the captain's casual attitude. The bodyguard stood straight like a tin soldier and spoke fast and to the point: "Sire! My name's Ferrant. On behalf of local businessman Monsieur Philippe, I am searching for the girl Ariel. Her mother Camille reported her missing a few days ago. The Châtelain said, you might be able to tell me the Guard's theory on the matter." He paused for a short moment, not enough to let the captain answer and added: "About those bandits: I'm no local, does Chateau Valeux lie in the same direction as Pontoise?" Ferrant shifted his stance to "At ease", signalling that he was done and did not expect the Captain to respond in a similar manner.

[Newrey]

Isidore Lefebvre

A MAN OF NOBLE TASTES

Eastern d'Ornon-de-Villeneuve, Fort of the Order of the Red Hand, 1st Of The Days Out Of Time, Late Morning

"So, this is it then?"

Isidore looked up from his careful packing of supplies that had preoccupied him for much of the morning, hardly noticing the gradual awakening of the fort around him. Leaning against the doorframe of his, or rather formerly his, forge was Clément Abadie, the Fort's newest Quartermaster and his longtime friend.

"It appears so" Isidore replied glumly, finally satisfied with the contents of his pack. Clément watched him intently as Isidore fiddled with the bags straps.

"You never were any good with packing, you know? Almost cost me my head when we faced that troll near North Ponte, so I wouldn't be surprised if it all fell out on your travels" Clément said, his voice tinted with a sense of longing. The shadows hid Clément's face, but Isidore knew he was smiling at the memory. They had both only just joined the Order then. A lifetime ago. Isidore slung the pack around his back and moved towards the door, tilting his head slightly close to Clément's ear.

"I wouldn't blame my packing quite as much as your hangover, but I'm sure you still milk that accident" Isidore said quietly, both of the men letting out a soft chuckle. They had been bickering over whose fault it was since before the troll had gone cold, and it was unlikely to end soon. Isidore continued past the door of the forge and through the courtyard of the fort. He was oft a head taller than many of the young men stationed at the fort and so was easily recognisable, with many of the long time veterans giving him a knowing nod while they sluggishly went about their duties. He came to a stop by a chesnut brown mare, a parting gift from the long-serving members of the Order prior to the actual farewell the night before. He heard Clément come to a stop behind him.

"Are you sure this is your best plan? We're both old and I know I couldn't match the speed of a werewolf, nor the endurance of that troll, I don't wish to read news of your death anytime soon" Isidore smiled while facing the horse as he checked the saddle straps before turning to face his friend. The sun now clearly illuminated Clément's face, his salt-and-pepper hair pulled tightly behind him, with the exception of the ugly scar that had turned the right of his skull into a jagged mess of scar tissue. A stark reminder that while they joked about the troll, it very much almost ended the both of them.

"Clément, my friend, I know your worries, I've heard them many times over, but I do not intend to spend the rest of my life in a forge, as much as I have loved it here." Isidore replied "You know I've never left the Confederacy? I'm at the age where to see the world is all I want before I can meet her again."

"Careful Isidore, you're coming close to heresy" Clément said in a sternly hushed voice, before cracking a smile "But I know my friend, I know. All Father knows that I can't change your mind," he paused "I just know I will miss my friend." he finished, placing his hand on Isidore's shoulder.

"Likewise, my friend, likewise" Isidore agreed offering his forearm. Clément clasped it with his hand while Isidore did the same to him. "We'll see each other again, I'm sure. Maybe you'll even meet Faustine, who knows" Isidore couldn't help but feel his voice tinge with sadness at the mention of his wife's name. Clément noticed this too, quickly changing the topic as they released each other.

"You know, I'm sure when you're a famous monster slayer, we'll finally find out who was responsible for the troll"

"What makes you say that?" Isidore asked, climbing onto his horse.

"They always write biographies about the big ones, they'll likely necromance the poor thing back to life to get answers" Clément joked, both men letting out a hearty laugh "Also, if you want a headstart to your career, head to Toulon."

"Toulon?" Isidore looked at his friend as the horse began to walk forwards.

"Knight Commander Antonin's got a problem that needs solving, something along the lines of women disappearing mysteriously I'm sure he'll have more answers for when you arrive"

"Toulon it is, thank you my friend." Isidore said as he exited the fort, feeling his heart sink as he left the fort that had been his home for some many years. But this was the life he ended to finish his on. With his mind set, he began the ride to Toulon, with luck he would arrive sooner rather than later,

Toulon,Town Of La Petite Rouche, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth, Evening

Isidore's journey had taken him longer than he had initially wanted it to. He'd arrived in Toulon by the morning of the Second Day Out Of Time and had spent much of the following time asking around for Knight Commander Antonin, and while it took its time, he was eventually pointed in the direction of La Petite Rouche.

He arrived early into the evening, and the only thing he desired was bed to lay down in. He'd even settle for a bench so long as it was warm. It was these long hours outdoors that reminded him how old he was. Spotting an inn's sign, he moved his horse towards it, hitching it to the post when they arrived. He pat her side before opening the door and stepping inside. He found it charming in a way only a South Man could, the dim light giving it an almost homely feel, while the warmth it radiated drew him in.

He moved towards the counter, feeling his muscles burn as they demanded rest. The innkeeper looked up at him angrily;

"How many of you are there? It's busier than a brothel in here and we're meant to be closing!" he spat, throwing the cloth on the bar top and motioning to the small group that were gathered around a table with ale.

"I am sorry, I wish only for a bed and maybe some information."

"We've got very little bed left, so you're lucky, but what do you mean 'information'?"

"Where I might find a Knight Commander Antonin of the Order of the Red Hand, I've been told he's been looking for help"

[Skaldia]

A CoWrite Between The Hoosier Alliance, Skaldia, and The Twelve Isles

____________________________________
Toulon, Town Of La Petite Rouche
Confederacy Of Southern Lords
Evening, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

The door to the old inn creaked open, and Siona trudged her way inside, her old cloak fluttering in the breeze as she reached behind her to close the door with a sharp crack. Standing in the doorway, Siona looked around the room, taking the lay of the land, but found that it was practically dead. She suspected the only reason the innkeeper was still awake was the two men sitting at a table on the other end of the room, one wearing the red and yellow of the Red Hand while the other seemed to be a wanderer like herself. Maybe a mercenary at best.

"Like I just told that man there," spoke up the innkeep, drawing Siona's attention, "we aint got no more ale. Them boys in red came and drank it all, along with most of the town here to see the knights."

"I dont want ale, I want a room" said Siona, digging around in the satchel that hung from her shoulder and producing a small coin purse. Her voice noticeably did not fit her appearance. Though she looked to be Imperial, she spoke with the lilting quality of Rotha, the wandering caravans.

The innkeeper paused a moment, looking over to the two men with a curious and frustrated eye. Siona followed his gaze, peeking over the tall collar of her cloak and looking at them, though she chose to pay them no mind. They appeared drunk, or at least, one appeared drunk, while both seemed to be too wrapped up in their own conversation to care about a wanderer looking for a room.

"How much do I owe you," prompted Siona, wanting to sit down and take a load off for the first time in days.
.
The innkeeper glanced back at her, looking her up and down as if trying to determine her worth, or how much money he could get out of her. Siona stared back, watching him from beneath a mop of wild black hair that stuck out in all directions.

"Five silver, or equivalent," said the innkeeper finally. Siona went to look through her purse, and paused a moment. Five silver felt like a rip off. She scowled up at the man, who looked her over with an impassive glance and leaned against a stool on his side of the bar, his arms crossed as if he was waiting for her to say something. With a frustrated sigh, Siona looked back down at her purse, producing a small pile of copper and bronze coin and placing them on the bar for the innkeeper to sort through.

"You couldnt be so kind as to give me that gold piece I saw in there?" he said.

"Your price was to expensive," stated Siona. "But I'm good for it. Just so long as you count it."

Hugh supposed he could keep drinking. Maybe not get as roaring drunk as his new compatriot, but he could certainly acquire a nice little buzz before he stumbled off to whatever room or cleared piece of floor he could find. Nodding with faux enthusiasm, he tapped his stein against Fredrick's and swished down the warming ale down his throat. With a smack of his lips, he wiped the moisture from his lips with the back of his forearm and looked up in time to see the door swing open.

Now who could that be?, he thought. As the diminutive figure came inside, he recognized first that the individual was a female and second, and far more disturbingly, as a mage. The smiling facade he had kept so well in front of the drunk bard faltered a bit, a brief frown marring his face before a conscious effort of will returned the feigned smile to his lips. Mages. He didn't like or trust them. Any time he had been forced to work with them, uncanny horse shit had followed.

Maybe she would fuck off somewhere else. Hopefully to a room. He didn't care if she was marginally more attractive than most faces he had seen so far in the South. The quicker she was out of sight the better in his opinion. Instead of dwelling on the woman, he returned his attention to his erstwhile ally."I think we're going to need another pitcher, my friend!" He just hoped his inebriated companion had not noticed the woman.

Fredrick was having a wonderful time. He hadn't been so drunk in a good long while. The time he had spent with his newly acquired friend was, thus far, amazing. Of course, Fredrick had been drinking far too much, so anything would be considered "amazing" at this point. That's why Fredrick loved the tavern scene.

"You know what, my friend?" he said to Hugh, "I do believe you are right!" He craned his head to get a better look at the innkeeper but instead spied the beauty that had just entered.

"Oh my," he said, a bright smile taking over his face, "What do we have here? That has to be the most beautiful woman I've seen in all the Southern lands. Let's bring her over here and see which of us she chooses, eh?"

Without waiting for a reply from Hugh, Fredrick stood, barely, and caught the woman's attention.

"My dear maiden! Please, join me and my compatriot. We would be most honored to have a beautiful flower such as yourself grace us with her presence."

He attempted to bow, but in his drunken state, fell and barely caught himself on the table. Not caring, he took his seat and made eye contact with the owner of the establishment and said, "Please, good sir, bring us a pitcher of your most excellent drink, something befitting the queen that has just blessed us with the gift of merely gazing upon her!"

"I was under the impression you didnt have anymore ale," Siona questioned the innkeeper. The man grunted, brushing the money she had paid with into a little lockbox that he carefully slid back underneath the bar before stooping to fill another pitcher.

"I suppose I'm out of most of it then," said the innkeeper.

Siona snorted, making her disinterest in his excuses known as she reached down to pick up her satchel and follow the innkeeper to the table. Dropping her belongings on the floor with a solid thud, Siona threw her cloak over her shoulder, brushed a long elegant saber out of the way of her chair and sat heavily in her chair. Not saying anything at first, she flicked her eyes between them, casting a wary glance between the two men, lingering on the larger of the two in particular. The Red Hand seemed too drunk to be of any real threat, but the other one, he seemed colder. Calculating. And she had seen the disapproving look he had shot in her direction when she entered. Even in the South, there were still those who disliked mages.

Sighing deeply, Siona cast her eyes down to her hands for a brief moment, before pulling the pitcher towards herself after the innkeeper placed it on the table with a frustrated glare. Pouring up a tall tankard, Siona leaned back with her drink and crossed her legs, looking around the room as she took small yet comfortable sips of the ale.

If looks could kill, the Red Hand bastard would be dead. Despite his brewing distaste for the bard, he maintained his facade. He sipped his ale as the man made a fool of himself. Despite having called himself a friend to the stranger, he was in no rush to help the man get up from the floor. Instead, he watched as the woman sauntered over. She had hips made for handling and Hugh made a concerted effort to remind himself that 1) she was a mage and 2) he had just been with a dangerous woman. One more was asking for trouble. More trouble than was worth it surely. Surely?

He watched as the woman poured herself a drink from the pitcher that Hugh had bought and he felt his lips downturn slightly. Had she even asked if she could have a drink? No. Like a typical mage, she was as arrogant as the lot of them. Fortunately, Hugh was pragmatic. In spite of his distaste for mages, they could be extremely handy. While Hugh would never admit it to someone, he was painfully aware of his shortcomings when dealing with magery.

He allowed the woman to get comfortable, sipping on his ale before he asked,"So what does an Imperial mage want in a town like Toulon?" He was pretty sure he knew the answer to his question. And it seemed he might not be getting one any time soon as his new ally was finally finding his equilibrium and returning to the table.

"My dear," Fredrick said, undeterred by her lack of response to his compliments, as the woman took a seat and a mug of ale, "I would like to introduce myself and my associate here. I am Fredrick Achen, and this is...well, I'll be damned! I do believe we don't know each other's names. Anyhow, I would like to, on behalf of the Red Hand, welcome you to this fine little town. However, you should know pretty one, that beauties such as yourself have recently been going missing in these parts. Therefore, knowing you'd make the crown jewel to top all the other pretty women who have gone missing, you should be careful. I would be more than happy to protect you so long as you are in the area. It's my duty as a knight of the Red Hand." Fredrick, with a cocky smile, leaned a little closer to Siona.

"I'm not an Imperial Mage," said Siona simply, taking a longer swig of her ale and placing it back on the table. "I'm just a scholar." She could have mentioned she was a Free Mage, but chose to leave it out. It was already clear she was a mage, and she figured it wouldnt take much more to connect the dots.

She looked over when the other man, Frederick he said his name was, introduced himself. She smiled slightly at his antics. He reminded her of her brother, Colm some. Always a showman, always popular with the ladies. Frederick struck her as being much the same, though he would have to try harder than that with her.

"My name is Siona O'Callaigh," she said, "and it is a pleasure to meet you and your friend here. And I appreciate your offer of protection, but I'm sure I will be OK."

So his name was Fredrick. Good to know when Hugh was later cursing the man. He didn't believe the woman for a moment when she said she was not an Imperial mage. She had the look if the dark eyes and hair was to be considered. When he heard her name though, he was surprised to find that it sounded like a Rothan name. Now, that was unusual but maybe it was simply a pleasure. She seemed to ignore the dire warning spoken by Fredrick though.

"I am Hugh." He was not going to share his surname," and I'm sure such a deadly lass such as yourself does not need protection although," he stroked his beard and angled an eyebrow,"No doubt you are here to investigate as well eh?"

Fredrick chuckled. "I don't think she's the investigating type. She looks a lot more like bait to me! Seriously though sweetheart, I'd stay in well lit places and away from the Dubois estate for as long as you're in the area. We think they're kidnapping beauties all over the place for one reason or another."

"No, I'm here to do some research for a book I'm writing," said Siona, leaning forward, "but now I'm curious, whats this thats being investigated?"

"Is it these women?" she continued, looking over at Frederick? "Do you know why? Or where?"

"We don't know why," Fredrick said, leaning back in his chair, "but women, beautiful women to be exact, have been going missing for a while now. Some say it could be the Merry Men's way of getting revenge on the wealthy, but I ain't so sure. It all started when the Dubois showed up in the area. I think it's them. I'm heading in to do some investigating, along with my new friend here!"

Hugh nodded shallowly in being referred to as a friend. The idea of being friends with such a man was galling but necessary in the act."I agree with Fredrick on believing it to be the work of the Dubois." He reluctantly asserted. Evidence, such as it was, was at best circumstantial. But it was enough for Hugh to agree to checking out the Dubois closer.

"A mage such as yourself would be handy."

"I dont see why not," said Siona, picking up her ale again and taking a long sip as she leaned back against her chair again. "But, in return," she continued, a conspiratorial glint in her eye, "is this going to be for free out of the goodness of my heart, or is there something in it for me?"

Fredrick chuckled. "I know there's a lot of good in your heart, my dear, but I can assure you nonetheless that if you help us, the people in this town and the Red Hand will be most grateful for your support." He paused for a moment before he continued with a wink, "And as will I."

Hugh watched the mounting cooperation with growing consternation. Damn him for his own thoughtless remarks! He should have just stayed silent and let the mage fuck off to whatever the fuck she was doing. Instead, pragmatism had won a hard fight with greed and Hugh consoled himself with admitting that a mage would increase their chances of whatever reward they won.

But he was not in the mood to share either."You get twenty percent of whatever monetary reward. I don't give a fuck about whatever shit you collect, provided you snatch it with your own grubby fingers, you hear me?" He said, leaning forward. The sharp look in his eyes was a stark contrast in the lurid wink from Fredrick. This might be a pretty little thing. In any other circumstance, Hugh wouldn't have minded trying to get her in his own lap. But Hugh didn't fuck around when it came to his money. Women were temporary. Money was forever.

"Dont worry big guy," said Siona with a sarcastically flirtatious grin, "I hear you loud and clear."

As she spoke, Siona tipped back her mug and downed the last of her ale in three long, large gulps, before placing it back on the table and sighing contentedly. "Now," she said, "I do believe its getting rather late. I think I will have one more drink of the ale, and then I will be tucking myself in for our long day tomorrow. Does that sound agreeable to you gentlemen?"

“I suppose it does,” Fredrick said with a wide grin, “however, I must ask; are you sure you don’t want someone else to...tuck you in? If only to make sure you make it safety to your bed, what with the beauties going missing. I assume you’d be a prime target and made the crown jewel of their collection.”

Hugh huffed at the grin shot his way. She could try her shit with Fredrick. He seemed far more amenable to Siona's flirting. Hugh felt it was far too close of looking at a grin from a bear. Not something a sane or, a glance at Fredrick, sober man would appreciate. Instead, he drained the last of his ale, following Siona's example but refraining from filling his glass once more."I think I'm done." A sharp look at Fredrick as Hugh rose from the table."Knock it off, Fred. Lass can handle herself. And, if she can't, she isn't worth allowing to tag along." The last of his sentence he finished glancing back at Siona and giving her a pointed glare.

"Good evening to you two. I shall expect you both here promptly in the morning." And with that, Hugh ambled away.

[Tysklandia]

THE SHALLOW PRINCE AND THE SPIRIT OF DEALS I

Radzimir Skrobiana

Just north of Pozwice, 1st Of The Month Of Rebirth

Pozwice brought back ill memories for Radzimir. As he stood upon a hill, watching the city at a distance, his mind wandered to his bloody history with the place. The first time he wandered through it's streets had been over a decade ago, soon after the death of his brothers as his father wanted to present him as his heir to the king. He still remembered clearly the pain he felt when the news came of their death. Engraved even clearer into his memory was seeing his father, the ever stoic and proud man break into tears at the very same news. He was never the same since...
And the last time he had ventured through the streets of Pozwice, he had stalked through them as a common vagabond, hunting and slaying those handful of bastards who had dishonored his sister and believed they could escape his wrath. He knew rumors still spoke of him as the culprit of that one bloody night, but those same unproven rumors placed his victims, a handful of wealthy burger sons and some hedgeknight, as rapists and scum. None had ever dared venture to Castle Bedzin to bring him to justice in the two years since. His father said such things were likely best left forgotten. But that was something difficult to do with the fate of his sister still largely unknown...

He had heard rumors of a Pescalan Free mage in Nordaline, Kringlind and Eudasine through the years... But their were many Magi traveling the kingdoms and their were many a rumor abound, especially if someone believed a lord would pay a pretty penny for some news of his sister.
Maybe he shouldn't have returned home to father after that one bloody night... Maybe he should have gone after her, looked for her... Maybe if he had never abandoned them as he had, maybe she wouldn't have been...

"My lord?" A crude voice barked out from behind him. Radzimir knew the poor man was attempting to sound concerned, but it sounded more like a sergeant yelling out orders to form a battle-line. A smile formed on Radzimir lips as he turned and looked at his second and his men behind him. A good portion of his Towaryze had rode out with him and was already pitching tents. They were a good part removed from the road and this land had decent grazing land that would keep the horses fed for a few days, they would likely not be here for much longer.

"Yes, Antoni?" Radzimir responded in a more gentle tone.
Antoni waited a moment to respond, a pensive look on his face as he observed his captain as the young patriarch of House Skrobiana walked towards his horse, donned with a Caparison bearing his family color in front and the Bow wielding Centaur sigil of his Towaryze in the rear.

"The men are pitching tents and we have made payment with the land owner for fodder and water, if we hurry, we can reach the city today and request Audience with the king. With luck, he might see us tomorrow." Antoni replied, motioning to the forming settlement of tents and horses, swinging with the banners of their "Company". A host of two hundred men and horse, armed with sword, longspear, shield and bow. It was a mix of pride and worry that Radzimir had when he gazed over his men. They were good men and good soldiers, but House Skrobiana could not fund them without steady work and Radzimir was hoping he could enjoy the patronage of his own king on this occasion...

"Good work Antoni, get me half a dozen good men and we'll ride for Pozwice as soon as they are ready, we should make it before evening bells." Radzimir replied as he threw himself on his horse in a well practiced maneuver. He took a look at Pozwice one more time, resolving to do his reminiscing at a more opportune time.

THE SHALLOW PRINCE AND THE SPIRIT OF DEALS II

Radzimir Skrobiana

Pozwice, 2nd Of The Month Of Rebirth

The trouble caused by this Bandit king truly seemed to be something of note, as the king seemed to allow an Audience without much issue. Not truly unexpected of_course... A foreign bandit lord carving a bloody path through Pescala, killing Pescalan war parties left and right... If nobody stopped him, it would be ripe proof for the neighboring lands that Pescala was ripe for the taking. If Radzimir wanted to do right by his father's legacy and ideals, erasing this bandit lord was simply a necessity. But Radzimir had learned from his years as mercenary and the death of his brothers had ingrained a clear impression. It would be a fools errand to underestimate this "bandit-king", if he had enjoyed so much success in such a short time...

But formulating a plan could come later. First, he would need to discuss the commission with his liege lord, the king of Pescala...