[Email the Game Master]
by Artemus Buttwyler, scribe of Chatwin
[this being the text of the Femmes Fatales second adventure, or at least the second part therof]
The Femmes' hopes of leaving the next day were a bit optimistic. There was the general malaise in the village due to the feast of Brewfest. By the time they got their supplies together, and their horses readied, and Black Blade's head clear, a couple of days had gone by.
But, on the first day of the tenth month, they found themselves on the road, a road they new fairly well. They had, after all, taken the routs on the north side of this spur of the Jewel westward on at least two previous occasions. This time, however, after crossing the Jewel via the rope ferry barge at Monpelone in the early afternoon, they were not heading further westward towards Lowick, where they were honorary citizens. This time they turned right and took the west bank of the Jewel gradually north. They had learned that the Veiled One and Andremar lived in what was known as the Lakeside Villa, an abode they had inherited from the previous inhabitant, a skulk. This low level mud dwelling had become a refuge of sorts for any downtrodden in the region of the northern Jewel. They had been told that as long as they kept to the river, they could not miss this house, probably by evening of the second day.
As it was fall, the sun began setting earlier, and the temperature began to dip. It had been in the mid-fifties with some sun during the day, but now, the long shadows of Patchwall week foretelling a chilly evening. A bit later, the autumn sun had slipped below the tree line leaving only a crimson haze on the western horizon. There promised to be a glorious star-lit sky and a brilliant round moon. As the Femmes began to think in terms of a suitable campsite, ahead, through the woods, they glimpsed a clearing, attracted to it by the bleating of lambs and the smell of a wood fire.
From the edge of the clearing a sturdy cottage, smoke drifting from the chimney bearing with it the savory smell of roasting meat, was seen. The cottage itself was ringed with lambs, tethered to trees, bushes, posts, stakes, arranged in such a way that it would be impossible to approach the cottage without passing at least one of them. The lambs bleated loudly, as if protesting their captivity. The cottage, fashioned of whole logs, appeared to be in sound condition, but the windows seemed securely boarded up, and the door had been reinforced with thick wooden planks. Thin rays of candlelight, visible in the deepening darkness, escaped through the cracks in the window boards. The lambs bleated plaintively with the fall of night.
Black Blade found the house worth visiting; Serena was tempted by the smell emanating from within. O'Dwyer thought it might be sherpard's pie.
"Well, this is more than a little odd," Serena said. "Maybe the occupants are hunters, seeking to lure in some carnivorous preditor. It's working on me," she laughed softly, "that meat smells good from here."
Daltonne said, "I'm with BB. Let's knock and see who there."
Morague was just a bit concerned. "I will approach closer to the house and cast a Detect Evil centering on the cottage. If evil is NOT detected, I will knock on the door, otherwise I will retreat. You will be able to judge by my reaction."
"This little house may not be made of gingerbread and candy, but even so it 'aint exactly normal" said Solace "That detect evil spell sounds like the way to go." Solace scanned the darkness around them, cupping her ear with her hand attempting to hear anything over the bleating sheep.
Morague made her way towards the cottage till she was close enough to cast her spell upon it. At first, all Solace heard was the continued bleating of the sheep.
"Well, at least it's not `the silence of da lambs," added O'Dwyer.
As Morague's spell took effect, she noted a strong emanation of evil moving about within the cottage. She began to step backwards, noting that the evil seemed to be moving towards the door. Solace heard the lambs bleat louder, but then her ears were assaulted by savage snarls, and a deep-throated howl. The lambs began to tug desperately at their tethers. Three of them managed to break free and lit off into the woods. Morague beat a more hasty retreat; all heard the thunder of someone, or something, bashing at the door from within. For now, the reinforced wood held. For now ....
"I have a bad feeling about this," BB hissed. Standing on her ground for now, she considered possible actions.
"Y-Y-You haven't drawn that s-s-sword of yours have you Black Blade, 'cause I'm feeling just a little s-s-shakey in the knees department." stammered Solace.
Solace drew her long sword and looked to the others for the next move. She prepared to dismount and attempt to blend into the shadows.
"Wuss," BB muttered. "Show some courage and stand..."
Morague, retreating back to the safety of the group, took this opportunity to cast Blessing upon the group by sprinkling them with holy water. She then drew her quarterstaff from her mount's side. Seeing Black Blade's obvious readiness for battle she readied remove fear , just in case.
Serena tried to remember any local history of odd goings-on of this sort, or any sort in this area. Other than the infamous Welkwood bandits, nothing came to mind, unless of course they were into sheep now. "Easy Crusty," she said quietly to her sturdy donkey. She held his rope tightly, but was prepared to let him bolt should something break free of the house. "My first thought was they were trying to keep something out," she muttered to any nearby. Serena decided to stay back, waiting to see what might emerge.
She did not have to wait long. Another terrific slam hit the door form the inside, and this time it burst open; splinters flew in all directions. large pieces of the door fell to the ground some five feet in front of it. There snarling stood a bi-pedal wolf, half clothed, its muscular arms bursting through a white shirt, a satin cloak hung from its back. What had served as pants now looked like Bermuda shorts and their occupant certainly needed some Nair.
"Lycanthrope or something equally nasty," she said, as she prepared one of her magical arrows. Morague was relived to see her not choose Fear.
The wolf stretched out to its full height, somewhere over 6', and sniffed the air all about. O'Dwyer looked towards his horse where his spear was, then to his broad sword, but realized they would be of little use if Black Blade's identification was correct. He looked about for some stones, "Ave to settle fer these wee ones. But me prayerrrs will make `em useful," he explained as he cast magical stone.
The snarling beast had a good long sniff, and then looked beyond the lambs, apparently in the direction of the Femmes. He began to charge on all fours as both Black Blade and O'Dwyer let fly their missiles.
Black Blade was able to loose two arrows. The first hit the creature in the right front above the leg, but the second flew just over its head. O'Dwyer tossed his little stones, all three of them. Only one hit, but it did so in the wolf's left eye.
Neither of these strikes slowed it down, however. As it cruised past the lambs, it chose its target - the cleric of Trithereon, whose blue cloak stood out clearly in the greenery. Slips of smoke flew from its nostrils as it leapt. Morague's quarterstaff swung gamely towards the beast, hoping to knock its feet away. While it swept under the mark, it managed to throw the wolf's jump off, and O'Dwyer managed to duck under. The wolf landed five feet away, turned and prepared to attack again, its ravenous eyes flicking from O'Dwyer to Morague, and back again.
Serena prayed she'd done her studies well and attempted to cast continual light on the creature's eyes.
"Tall dark and hairy wants to play rough..." BB smirked, hand to her hilt. Thinking that was enough of a warning to the rest of the group, she drew Fear from her sheathe...
Jessa grimaced a little, fervantly hoping that she remains unaffected by the sword's magic.
"Hey, O'Dwyer, can you cast remove curse?", Morague shouted as she readied her quarterstaff.
From his backward prone position, O'Dwyer wished he could cast dig hole or some such spell, as the wolf headed for him once more. He settled for uttering a few curses.
Daltonne charged in to fight the beast aside Black Blade, as the albino had begun her hideous transformation.
Serena's spell went off lighting up the area near the creature's face, temporarily stunning him. It also put the now fully transformed Black Blade on full display. O'Dwyer scrambled away any way he could; Morague took pause; even Daltonne hesitated. Black Blade took this opportunity to slice at the beast. Fear cut deeply into the wolf's right side, opening a vicious gash. The illuminated wolf looked around wildly. Serena took cover behind some trees. The beast, apparently blinded and confused bolted away randomly into the woods. Black Blade got in another swing clipping it in the hind quarter as it headed off.
From somewhere amidst the sheeps' still wild bleating was heard, "Fer the recorrrd I can ney remove a currrse. Wish that I could remove a sworrrd."
Morague looked around to see if anyone was wounded or in need of attention. Other than O'Dwyer's need for a wash up, as he emerged from the soft ground in the midst of some sheep, there were no takers. Morague proceeded to untie the some of the lambs, but there were so many of them. "Anyone feel like checking the cottage out?"
Solace emerged from the shadows, smiling `sheepishly,' "Thanks for holding it for me, " with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "Let's check this dump out" she said in response to Morague
Black Blade sheathed her sword, but remained on guard. She ventured forth towards the house.
Jessa had pointedly avoided looking at BB during the struggle. As the werewolf made its getaway, she tried to take aim with an arrow, but there were just too many trees. Seeing no one in pursuit, she headed cautiously towards the house.
Seeing some of her companions ready to enter the house Daltonne said, "I'll stay on guard outside the door to see iffin this beast comes back. Shout if you need my sword and I will be there."
"Sounds good to me," BB retorted.
O'Dwyer and Serena gathered the mounts and took them around the low side of the cottage where they could tether them to some trees. They fixed them tightly enough so they would not wander off, but could bolt free should the beast return.
Solace moved towards the battered doorway and gave it the once over. By the light of a flickering fireplace, she could make out a series of claw marks on the hardwood plank floor. "Looks like they are always heading out, never in," she noted. In the center of the room was a long rectangular dining table. Two plates, a set of eating utensils, and a goblet-all made of pewter, lay on it, as well as a loaf of bread and four tomatoes. A four-legged stool sat next to the table. Various provisions were stacked in the northeast corner
Black Blade moved past her, into the simply furnished cottage. The furniture was of oak, and appeared hand made with minimum skills involved. As she headed for the hearth, she saw various provisions stacked in the northeast corner, including sacks of flour, rice, beans, a tun f cider, several barrels of fresh water, a barrel of salted fish, and three barrels of "Proverb's Brown Ale." "O'Dwyer will be delighted," she murmured.
In the center of the right/north wall was a brick fireplace, a side of roast, skewered on a spit, was cooking in the mouth. "It's mutton all right," she confirmed, "and tasty, too." On the mantle above she saw a slightly rusty footman's mace covered by a layer of undisturbed dust. Old copper pots, various cooking utensils, and a tinder box containing flint and steel were positioned around the hearth.
Jessa and Morague followed. In the southeast corner they so a long work table and a four legged stool. Various carpenters' tools littered the table. A stout low-lying bed occupied the southwest corner. a small rectangular rug, fringed with tassels, lay at its foot. A simple nightstand sat next to the bed, and a battered old chamber pot rested upon the nightstand. Solace gave this area the once over, but found little of interest.
O'Dywer and Serena finished with the horses and came around to the door were Daltonne stood, looking out at the woods.
"I think I'll remain outside with the animals," Serena said. "I don't want that creature running off my mounts."
O'Dwyer said that he would watch them, helping Daltonne stand watch.
"Anything?"
"Jest glances er light, but seems pretty fer away."
O'Dwyer said that he would watch them, helping Daltonne stand watch.
"This is very confusing," Serena said. "It appeared to me that someone was trying to deter a creature from attacking the house by tethering easy targets outside it. Why would these sheep be out here? Who locked that beast in there? Very strange."
So O'Dwyer stayed outside for now while Serena entered the cottage.
"This is very confusing," Serena said. "It appeared to me that someone was trying to deter a creature from attacking the house by tethering easy targets outside it. Why would these sheep be out here? Who locked that beast in there? Very strange."
Her attention was immediately drawn to the northwest corner where a desk and chair sat. She made her way to it, followed by Morague and Jessa. Two thick candle holders, a songhorn made of cherry wood, and a dog eared bound book in ivory-colored leather lay on the desk. Serena noted the title, "The Healing Power of Prayer: Curative Rituals of the House of Zilchus."
Morague heard the title and was curious. "Zilchus? I believe they are a lawful deity, well known for their organizational and business sense." There seemed to be a thin paper slightly sticking out from the middle of this book.
"Why would that thing be so anxious to get out, if there was food right here?" Serena said, pointing to the roast- which now didn't seem to appetizing. "I'd wager it wasn't after the sheep."
Not touching the book, Serena looked around. "This place is in one piece. What do you thing that thing was doing before we showed up? Enjoying this book? Something very odd is going on here."
"What else do you know about this Zilchus group? Are they the type to put traps on their holy scriptures?" Serena asked. "Silly question, I know, but really, do you know anything else about them?"
"Serena, what do you make of that paper?" Morague asked.
"Not sure, could be a bookmark."
"It seems our host has the curse. This looks like a perfectly normal cottage - except for the werewolf. I wish I could remove his curse, but I do not have access to that spell. Mmmm that mutton smells good. I think we would be safer if we stayed here tonight, we can all take turns at watch, maybe 2 at a time. What do you all think?"
Morague said to Serena " IIRC those who follow Zilchus are Lawful. Neutral or maybe Good, but definitely not Evil. Not many follow Zilchus, mostly merchants, well to do people & nobles. Uncle Vaddyn used to tell us stories about the werewolves - you know, to scare us! He said that there are 2 kinds. Ones that are born that way & ones who get infected - like a disease but it's a curse. When I have completed more of my training, I will be able to help those who have been affected, but there is nothing I can do for these poor souls right now. It looks like this creature is one of the unfortunate ones. I mean, look around - this looks like a normal cottage - dinner on the hearth, table set, Oh! is it set for 2? Perhaps he has a friend around here? Anyway, we need to be very careful tonight, as this the night of the full moon, in case he returns"
Daltonne had heard this from her post in the doorway. "Maybe this here wolfman will return in the morning as a man and he kin tell us 'bout himself. I hear tell that them with these curses only transform at night durin' the full moon. Do you think that is true? Iffin we stay in here tonight, and she looks at Solace and says, I guess we will, then I will guard the door for part of the night. I hope that iffin he comes back he will be a man and not a wolf."
O'Dwyer offered his services in a watch.
Gnawing on her lip, Black Blade stared at the book. "Maybe the book has a protection from evil?" she whispered. "Anyway, if that fellow was cursed, didn't he have to be bitten by a true werewolf to get the curse?" Realization sunk in as her hand went for the hilt of Fear.
As for the table, set for two...there could be trouble if that garou was expecting company...
Keeping a wary eye out for anything out of the ordinary, the majority of her attention was turned back to the book. But she could find nothing out of the ordinary on it. She suggested that the clerics look for any magical traps.
"Perhaps Wolfman out there was concerned about his own nocturnal activities? Maybe he was trying to keep himself close to his house and from attacking other people?" said Solace, absently, as she watched Black Blade check for traps. "Such a nice person wouldn't deserve to have a bunch of strangers invading their house." she added.
Morague regretted that it was not one of her powers. "Nae ken I," said O'Dwyer from outside.
Black Blade turned her attention to other matters. She called to Jessa, "Would you please slice me a hunk of that mutton? I'm starved! And boy, that brown ale is getting mighty tempting!"
"Brown ale. Lass? Ah sum times Trithereon suumons me ta tha roight place."
Uninterested in the book (and books in general), Solace swaned around the room.....cutting off a hunk mutton and chewing on it....picking up a plane of the work bench and trying it out on the nearby furniture....and finally, flopping heavily on the bed and saying "I bags this for tonight....wake me up if 'Hairy' comes back." With that she dozed off.
Morague munched on some mutton and read the passage in the book on Lycanthropy and Other Magical Diseases and Curses. She was thinking to herself, "This could come in handy!"
"I don't think the sheep were put out here to deter any beasts from attacking the house, but to keep the creature *within* from wandering too far." Jessa mused as she wandered around the main room. "The beast we just encountered could be someone who is cursed, just as Morague suggested. Maybe the sheep have the dual purpose of feeding the dweller of this cottage, and preventing the beast he becomes from wandering off in search of other prey."
From outside was heard, "Look there, Lass, a light, dimmer and dimmer."
"I ken see, sure as I ken see you."
Solace fell fast asleep, dreaming of werewolves and sheep jumping over heavily laden tables of food, in the cottage the party has just discovered. In her dream she also finds a trap-door under a rug in the house, below the trap-door was a chest; full of gold, gems and magical objects suitable for thieves. Although she realized that this is a rather fanciful notion, Solace made a mental note to check under the rug when she woke up.
Outside, Daltonne said to O'Dwyer, "I see the light. Could be our wereman with that light in his eyes or could be someone comin' to check on the beast. Let's be ready for whatever comes." Daltonne readied her sword and watched diligently. She called to BB "Iffin trouble comes I'll call ye."
"Not a problem." BB replied. Seeing Morague had finished with the book, Black Blade took a plate of mutton and a mug of ale over to the table, where she sat and BB started skimming the chapter. As she read, she became rather quiet. Finally, she put the book down, pushed her still full plate away, and stared off into space.
Jessa notes her friend's change of temperament. "Why so glum, chum?' she sparkled.
Black Blade seemed not to hear, lost in thought. then, as if waking from a bad dream, "Ah, huh? What? Oh, er, it's nothing. Nothing at all."
Then she turned to Morague. "Er, you're more in tune with things religious. Do you, er, take this curse stuff, and, ah, were stuff very seriously? I mean, I read this chapter, but don't know how well I understood it."
Morague answered. "Yes, it is a very serious matter, especially for one who suffers form this affliction. "
BB continued, "Let's say our bright eyes friend out there comes back. Is there anything that can be done for him?"
Morague gave Black Blade a curious look. "Well, not that I am an expert on this topic. But from the chapter I read, the ritual the church of Zilchus proposes sound like it might work. However, many powerful clerics are needed to perform it."
Black Blade asked somewhat confidently, "So, if there were enough clerics, they could cure anyone?"
Morague cautioned, "Not exactly. Most organized churches like Zilchus, they usually only do so for their own kind, or for someone who has done them a great service."
Black Blade asked hesitantly. "What we they do for someone else, a non religious, say a fighter or a rogue. Let's say Jessa, for example. What if Jessa contracted this disease, curse, whatever," her voice was rising, "what would they do for her?"
"Probably put her out of her, and their, misery."
Jessa's interest was piqued. "So, now I am a lycanthrope?" almost laughing she continued, "and the clerics of Zilchus are going to kill me. Thanks a lot my friend."
Black Blade looked away, "Just asking. Didn't mean nothing by it."
A silence took the room; then Morague spoke. "One thing I did find in the chapter, which might effect your hypothetical situation. It read that there are magical charms, amulets, and the like which can reverse the progress of these types of curses."
Black Blade looked as it to speak, then merely uttered a low, "That's a hope, in some small way." She turned back to her personal contemplation.
Jessa's expression became concerned as she looked at her normally rambunctious friend. She said nothing; only squeezed Black Blade's shoulder gently before preparing herself for sleep.
Morague attended to her evening clerical rituals, having asked if anyone else wanted to join her. She stepped outside and asked O'Dwyer to give her a call when it was time for her turn for the watch. Morague then retired for a brief rest. As did, in turn, the others.
The night, for the most part, was uneventful. Yes, there was the occasionally bleating of a sheep here and there, and once or twice a loud sheep like shriek emanated from deep within the forest, and, those on watch did see a glow moving about the woods, but it never came close enough to give them pause.
As the sun gradually rose in the east, peaceful beams angles in to this little clearing; mist rose slowly from the autumn damp earth. The Femmes awoke to the morning chill. Some set about stoking the fire, others in organizing a morning meal. Both clerics, each in her/his own way, performed morning rituals. And Solace reported that she had lost her shoes under the bed, refused others' help, and spent untold minutes searching for them, until she emerged dusty, musty, and with only shoes in hand, seeming somewhat disappointed.
O'Dwyer and Serena went out to see to the mounts. After a bit, the cleric's melodious voice was heard, "Lassies, yee best all cum hitherrr. Therrre's sumething, errr, sumone, I think yee best see."
As the others arrived at the doorway they, too, could see what had garnered O'Dwyer's attention.
Moving towards the cottage, still some 50' away, was a thin, wiry man, slightly under 6' tall, seemingly over 50 yrs old. His chest was covered with a torn about gray tunic; his legs with gray trousers held up by a length of rope. He walked in a slow and deliberate manner, as if unsure of every step, his eyes carefully watching the ground. As he got to within 20', he raised his head giving all full view of his face. His face below his eyes was deeply lined, his brow held deep furrows. An unruly brown beard shot through with gray, and an unruly mustache covered the lower portion. His clothing was dirty, his hair unkempt, his finger nails long and dirty. He seemed emaciated. He stopped at this point and merely looked at the Femmes.
Daltonne, who was standing at the door spoke, "Well met, friend. We 'ave taken refuge in your 'ome fer the night. Mayhap you will break fast with us and tell us your tale. We mean you no harm and apologize iffin we 'urt ye. Mayhap we kin help one another." She put her sword back into her scabbard and raised her hands in a gesture of friendship.
Meanwhile BB, hand to the hilt out of habit, called out, "'Lo, grandfather. What brings you to these cursed forest?"
The man looked at the gathering crowd, obviously confused. He seemed about to say something when Solace finished her house cleaning, and said 'good morning' to everyone. Then she followed to the doorway. She looked at the disheveled man. At first she thought it was her uncle Benny but quickly discounted this possibility. "Been out drinking again hey? " asked Solace, more out of habit than any thing else.
The man said nothing, only seemed more confused.
Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she yawned loudly. Not expecting a reply, Solace then walked off to tend her horse and do some stretching exercises. O'Dwyer joined her in these; Serena merely watched.
Morague gained the newcomer's attention once more. "Greetings, sir, I am Morague, a cleric of Pelor. Did you suffer any injuries last night that I may offer assistance with? I hope you will forgive us for taking refuge in your home. Is there anything we can do to help?"
The man began to move slowly forward, still somewhat confused. Softly he spoke. "Pelor?" with a hint of fear. "Injuries?" Only then did he seem aware of gashes, now dried on both his shoulders, as he looked from side to side. His right hand reached up to his forehead, "My eye hurts," he offered weakly, as he moved passed those at the doorway an into the cottage. He headed for the mantle, took up a small trinket, which he held out in his hand. It was a little silver circle with what looked like a pouch emblazoned on it. "I am Father Steif, a follower of Zilchus. Welcome to my home such as it is. You are welcome here, though how safe you'll be is a matter of uncertainty." He became more aware of his aches and pains. He spoke directly to Morague. "Yes, assistance with these would be nice." He sat at the table, still slightly dazed.
Morague examined her "patient," determined that some magical assistance was in order, and offered him a Cure Light Wounds. He seemed greatly relived.
Morague gave him some moments to gather himself. "Father Steif, you must be aware of your situation. I read the book-marked passage in your book last night. How long have you been afflicted? What remedies have you tried? Is your church aware of your dire situation? What do you think can be done?"
Steif took a deep breath. "I have been this way for about a year now. What I have done, and will continue to do, is to defeat this beast from within. I believe that Zilchus has set this upon me as a test, as he does all things. I must somehow find the way to pass it. That is why I have set myself apart from society, so I can do no damage. I built this cottage with my own hands, gathered and raised sheep, and try to stay within on nights of the moon." He paused, and looked out through the broken door. "I see I have some work to do, as tonight is the third phase. Perhaps some of you could gather my sheep for me?"
Black Blade looked sheepishly at the elder, taking her hand off the hilt.
"If you don't mind me asking, Sir, what cursed you?" she asked as nicely as she could.
Steif was unbothered by the question. "I don't mind. You, you all, might as well know. I was camping with some pilgrims in the hills in the northern Welkwood. We were returning from a long journey to Veluna. We were attacked by a wolf, and I was badly wounded. For days I hovered on death's doorstep, but unfortunately, I recovered. We thought nothing of it, till the night of the formoon. It was then I transformed into the beast you saw last night. I killed the entire party, as they were helpless against me. Since then I have felt no connection with Zilchus. "
Morague was a bit surprised by his original response. His words to BB offered some explanation. Rather than the sheep, she set about gathering materials to make a charm or sorts. She also scoured the area for suitable herbs and in particular some belladonna for making some tea in the hopes that it might help him.
Black Blade seemed non pulsed by his answer. She yawned somewhat and remarked, "I think I'll go tend to the horses. OD, would you help me, please?" Though there was a tone of her voice that underlay her request that assumed it was more of an order.
O'Dwyer, who was standing in the doorway, having caught only the tail end of the tale, said, "Horses, why we jest," then he caught her tone, "Oh right, the horrrses. Yes, Lass, let us go and check on the horrrses." The cleric and the albino headed outside.
Father Steif took up his carpenter's tools, and set about fixing his door. He started with the frame.
Solace offered to help Steif repair his door. After working for a little while she began with, "I think that it's very noble of you to try and fight this on your own, but many noble and good people still fall at evils hand. What I'm trying to say is that your noble resolution may not be the best way to tackle the problem, maybe you should be seeking all the help you can get. At the moment you are a tool of evil, you may have killed us last night and may kill other travelers in the future. Let us help you out, you cannot refuse us and remain blameless for you actions."
Steif continued his hammering and the frame. "I don't see it that way. I am not a tool of evil. It is the curse, or disease which is evil. I did not attack you, it did. I have set myself out here away from the common ways to avoid encounters. That you happened upon me is your own doing."
He began to reinforce the door itself. "I am doing all I can to defeat this from within. Now, I am only a threat three nights of the month, tonight being the last." Once he had restored the door to a door again, "Now help me balance it on the hinges." The two managed to get the door in place. "Now, I thank you for your help, and your concern. I also suggest you, and your friends, however well-meaning you all are, not be around come nighfall." He collected his tools and brought them into the cottage.
Jessa gave the Priest one of her rare smiles and offered her help with the sheep. As she searched the scattered animals, the elf couldn't help but wonder what kind of god would desert a loyal disciple when he was in so much need? But then, her patron goddess, Alaya PeaceMaker, was a little more active in the lives of mortals than most divine entities.
Morague saw Jessa's flock, and felt a bit guilty about releasing them; she had the best of intentions at the time. She also thought about the priest's dilemma. *No matter how strong a person Father Steif is, he can not conquer this "beast within" & that this most certainly is not a test from his God! It's just a curse, pure & simple. Wondering if she had missed anything, Morague reviewed her knowledge on the subject. "I think our group needs to talk" she said to herself.*
In a low whisper, she told OD of her predictament.
"After what Morague had said, I don't think I want to reveal this to the group. Out of all of them, I trust you and Jessa the most, though I can't tell Jessa." She held her hands out to him, mostly indicating her pinkies. "I think Fear is more cursed than we thought. After we got back to town after the incident with Rander, I noticed it. I didn't think of anything of it until now. I think I'm becoming a lycanthrope, OD, and I think you're the only one who can help me."
O'Dwyer looked thoughfully at Black Blade's fingers. "Well, Lass, I've one surre firre solluution. We'll just lop `em off wit me troosty brrroad sworrrd herrrre," reaching for the hilt of it. Then he grinned. "Jest kiddin', Lass. Yes, yer proobably righ ta ney tell that Morrrague. Not that we canaye troost herrr, just that ya neverrr know how those lawful ones will react."
He pondered the situation. "I tell you sumpin', Lass. I worrrship the Summoner, and I got ta figurre that I've been summoned `ere forrr a purpose. And if ye be `ere with me, than maybe the two purposes are one, ya see? Maybe that sworrd a yours, and this trrrip we'rrre on, and this fellow inside, arrre all tied up in one big knot. We, you and me, got to unravel the strrrings. And then we'll fix that sword a yours, and maybe then those fingers will go back ta normal."
He seemed hopeful in this pronouncement, until, "Course, if I be wrong, ..., well then we'll just lop `em off. Save ye from having ta trim yer nails anyway. Not ta worry Lass, we'll get ta the boottom a this, you'll see. Fer now, may I suggest these?" And he produceed a pair of leather gloves from his saddlebag.
Then, realizing that Black Blade already had gloves, he added, "In case you lose yerrr own."
Once the door had been fixed, the flock gathered, the horses tended, and noon had arrived, Morague got everyone together outside the cottage, out of earshot of Father Steif. He stayed within, heating up some food on the stove, and showed no interest in whatever the Femmes were saying.
Morague asked, "So, what should, or shall, or can, we do about this?"
Solace reviewed her conversation with Steif, and her concern that he was a threat to travelers. She suggested building a cage and taking Steif to the wizened clerics that can help him.
O'Dwyer nodded, "That is cerrrtainly a possibility, .....but . The way I sees it, this poor fellow is only a threat to `is sheep. We somehow, or for some reason, found him. My instincts tell me I was summond `ere. What little I know about his currrse suggests that tonight, the last night the moon will be full, will be his last night to howl forrr a while. We have that while ta find a way ta help him. Seems ta me we have two currrrses on our hands."
"Two?" asked Black Blade.
"Yes, `ave yee fergotten, Lass? We came this way to see about that sword of yer's there, and now we have this poor chap's prroblem on our hands as well. Two birds with one stone, perhaps? What do the rrrest of yee think?"
She seemed surprised, almost angered at OD referring that there were two curses, but calmed down sooner than thought.
"Yeah," she nodded. "The lycanthropy and Fear...maybe the good man could help out with the Fear part if we help him with his lycanthropy..."
"Well, I don't think there is a general area ~remove curse~ spell, if there is and any of you could use it, you would have by now." Jessa smirked slightly before regaining her ever serious expression. "We should help this poor soul and we most assuredly have to help Black Blade, but I haven't the slightest idea how."
Solace was unsure about this "two birds with one stone" idea, although she did admit it would be nice. "On the subject of Steif. If this is the last night for the month, we should help him prepare for it and leave and return with help if we can find it. I suggest that we not deviate from our original course and hope that along the way we discover the answer to Steif's problems. What do you think Serena?" Solace blabbed out at a million miles an hour.
"Well I don't know much 'bout curses but I agree that we are dealing with 2 curses. Maybe they are somehow linked. Maybe that lost prince became a werewolf too .... Anyway, I thin we should ask Steif iffin he's ever heard of your sword and this place we be lookin' fer."
"Top idea" says Solace as she ran off after a butterfly.
BB's eyebrows shoot up at Daltonne's speculation of the two curses being linked.
"Possibly," she retorts slowly, the gears grinding in her head...
Morague listened intently to the discussion & suggestions. "perhaps if we get him drunk, he'll be a lot easier to handle. With his permission, we could then bind him securely in the cottage for the night. We could stay outside & stand guard to make sure he does not roam & cause trouble, then invite him to come along with us until we reach the Veiled One. I'm certain she will know what to do. Perhaps she can cure him, although I would not care to even guess what compensation she'd have in mind for Steif."
"Getting drunk, or others drunk could actually be the solution to all the problems we ever encounter" says Solace excitedly. For a few minutes Solace was dead keen to try this idea out, but forgot about it when she was distracted by the beautiful butterfly again. So entranced was Solace that she ran into a tree, stunning herself, probably to the relief of the rest of the party.
"I'm afraid that if we stay and try to help him we are risking injury to ourselves and him," Serena replied to Solace. "Also, I for one do not desire sharing this man's curse. Perhaps we should return in a few days."
Talking with Steif any further proved rather fruitless. He seemed resigned to his fate. "Poorrr man, should wership Istus, fer that matterrr," noted O'Dwyer. He refused any suggestion that he leave his self imposed exile. He knew nothing about and Gelatint, nor has he ever heard any legends about swords and controls they might exhibit over their owners. In the end, the Femmes had little choice but to content themselves with nailing his door from the outside, reinforcing the window boards, making sure there were ample sheep, and getting the heck out of here, for now at least.
They left the cottage at about two in the afternoon, and were able to make some distance before nightfall. They made camp in a clearing, set watch, and spent a fretful night, bothered by a light drizzle ,and by memories of Father Steif, and wondered about what might be going on back there.
The next morning was calm and the sky was clear and dry. After a trail breakfast, they headed further north along the east side of the river. At about noon, a villa-like building, standing alongside the river came into view. The building had signs of life, as the roof showed signs of fresh tiles, and the plants and crawlers which grew about seemed trimmed and cared for. The building was a low structure, roughly rectangular in plan, perhaps 200 feet long and 100 feet wide. A part of the building at the higher end rose above the rest.
As the sat on their horses, still some 100 yards away, surveying the landscape, they became aware of people beyond the building, who seemed to be working fields.
"This sure looks like the Lakeside Villa." exclaimed Morague as she took in the beauty of the scene. "I'm very excited about meeting the Veiled One, shall we proceed?"
"Yeah," BB muttered. "Why the hell not?"
Muttering something not very nice about lawful clerics, she gave OD a worried look.
"Easy, Lass. T'is always darrrkest `aforrre the dawn," he counseled.
"All right Morague, lead the way." said Daltonne.
"Should we ask someone if this is the right place?" Jessa queried. She looks around while she kept a tight rein on Schkar.
Morague took this under advisement as she began a slow canter down the slope towards the building. As they all neared the large building, it became obvious that the people in the fields just beyond were basic peasant farmer types for the most part. The pulled their mount s up near what seemed to be the front of the villa. A row of low stone steps led up to and through a gateway which opened into a courtyard beyond. It seemed safe enough, but, so did the cottage of Father Steif. "Forewarned is forearmed," said Morague. As she did so, she decided to ~detect evil~ but none was found.
Within moments a man came out through the gateway. He was short and slightly portly, but there was something stiff about the way he carried himself. He wore brownish pants and shirt, with a greenish cloak over the top. He carried a rake in one hand.
His greeting seemed friendly. "Ah, new faces I see. Travelers I suspect? Cause with horses as fine as those you don't seem to be needy."
O'Dwyer dismounted and approached extending a hand in greeting. "O'Dwyer, itinerant priest of Trithereon, at your service. And you, my good man, you might be?"
The man's eyes twinkled as he answered, "Me? Well, I might be Tenser the famous mage, now mighten I?" He guffawed at his little jest. "But no, `round here," waving his free hand, " they just call me Sarge."
"Well met, Sarrrge. Now me frrriends and meself werrre wooonderin. This woouldn't be the villa of the famed prrriestess, known oonly by the name `o the Veiled Ooone, now wooyld it?"
Sarge took a moment to convert OD's speech to something he could understand. Smiling broadly he merely said, "Aye, tis."
"Wonderful, two of them," muttered BB.
The Sarge spoke to the others, "And what business have you with her."
Morague moved forward. She held out her starbust symbol. "No doubt, Sarge, you recognize this?"
"Why yes, Ma'am, I do."
"I, too am a priestess of Pelor. My companions and I have come to speak with her on a matter of some importance, of both a personal and religious nature. Do you suppose we could have an audience with her?"
The Sarge spoke with no hesitation. "I am certain you can. In fact, the mid day meal will be served shortly. Why don't you bring your horses inside, where they can be fed and watered, and we'll see to getting you all ready for lunch?"
When there were no objections, "Just follow me through here," he said as he headed back into the courtyard. OD followed first, the others close behind. As they passed through the arched gateway, there were gate houses to either side. The doors seemed either restored or new. The earthen courtyard was maybe 50' x 50,' with two oak trees growing in it, and a few well trimmed bushes all about. Leaves had been raked into a pile and were smoldering in the fall air.
The Sarge turned to the right, where a large new door hung. Opening it revealed a small stables with a number of stalls. One stall contained a fine looking horse. A rope, holding a wooden label, `Jaspur,' hung cross the front of this stall. There were small piles of hay, feed bags, water trough, some bridles and other accouterment about. "Just settle your horses in here, I'll have them looked after." He gave everyone time to do so.
"Now, let's head up to the main area. He led all to the far end of the courtyard where another archway was. Through it a flight of broad stone steps led up to a pair of iron-bound wooden doors. While the doors seemed well aged, the hinges, closing hasps, and locks were rather new. He opened the door and led the way in. The Femmes found themselves in a grand hall about 60' x 70', with 40' high ceilings. The floor was of blue veined, white marble. The walls were wood paneled to a height if about 20,. Above this they sloped gently inwards and were pierced by about 20 shuttered, lancet windows each about 4' x 3'. The walls above and the windows were decorated with a painted design of interwoven vines.
On each side of the room stood a row of four human-like statues. Between them, in the center of the room, was a square dais about 15' across. Standing at each corner of it was a bronze-colored statue of a large feline creature. The tails of these creatures met in the center of the dais where they supported a large bronze-colored chair. Sitting in the chair, unaware that anyone had come in, was a man, mid-twenties, dressed in nice brown trousers, a tan blouse, with a dark brown leather vest. He seemed lost in thought.
The Sarge paused, as if waiting for something to happened. Finally, as all were now gathered and wondering, he spoke softly, "Sir? Andar, sir. Er, we have guests."
Slowly the man moved. His eyes focused on the group. He smiled slightly, "Yes, I see we do. Well, you've been treated to a sight, now haven't you?" he said matter of factly. He rose from his seat and climbed down. "As you probably realize, I am Andar. What brings you to our humble abode?"
Sarge related what Morague had conveyed outside, and that he had invited all to the mid-day meal.
Andar's mood brightened. "Guests for lunch? Well, it has been a long time. Not many people come this way and stop by. This is, indeed, a special occasion. And I'm sure the Veiled One will be equally delighted."
OD whispered to BB. "Even `e calls `errrr the Veiled One. Dooosen't she `av a name. I wooonderrr?"
Andar told the Sarge to make everyone comfortable, give them opportunity to freshen up and be ready to eat in about half an hour.
The Sarge led all down some stairs to the lower level. They passed through a long corridor, through what was obviously a dinning room, and into a series a rooms beyond. These rooms seemed new, with light wood walls, simple furnishings, and a touch of dampness. "There are basins in each, the privies are at the end. When you're ready, we'll be eating in the dining hall. just back there. "
The Femmes freshened and found their way to the dining hall. Unlike the up stairs, this was sparse by comparison. The room, lit by two simple glass chandeliers which seemed to glow, was 30' x 20', with a long simple wooden table down the center, with many unmatched wooden chairs around it. It was adorned with earthenware. Well used pewter plates, spoons, knives, mugs were gathered in the center. Andar was there to greet them. "As you might guess, we do not stand on ceremony around here. Help yourself to a mug, we have ale wine, water, juice," pointing to labeled barrels which sat off in a one corner. The Sarge entered. Andar asked him, "Who's got the kitchen today?"
"Grelde does."
"Good." He seemed pleased with this news, then he explained, "Oh, er, see, we do not have a permanent staff. Those who we take in and wish to stay on, work the fields, whatever, till they get their lives in order, rotate on household duties. Their way of payment. something one of them thought up a while back."
Soon, a couple of men brought in plates of food. There was a large bowl of a soup, "Vegetable I suspect," a plate of fresh vegetables, another of fruits, and one of cold sliced meats. A side board of breads soon appeared. "Help yourselves," Andar suggested, and so he did. So, too, did the men who'd brought it in. So, too, did Sarge. Shortly after a woman appeared. She was maybe fifty with road map of worry lines across her face, limp graying hair, a reasonable dress, and a stained apron. "Good eats, Grelde," said Andar.
She thanked him and helped herself to some food.
Moments later another figure entered, wearing a dark floor length hooded, black cassock which made it impossible to see any feet. A black veil covered the face completely. A red cape flowed from the back of the neck. The figure appeared to glide to the table where it took a plate and placed some vegetables, meat and bread upon it. A matronly voice came from within. "Andar, why did you not tell me we had guests?"
Andar answered sheepishly, "Not supposed to disturb your worship, now am I?"
"No, you are not," she reminded as if still scolding him for doing the right thing.
Andar added, "They have come to see you, in fact. One of them," pointing to Morague, "is a cleric of your order."
The figure turned toward Morague. Andar said, "This is my good friend, the Veiled One. We welcome you all to our humble home. Now, how may we help you?"
"I don't know if this is such a good idea or not..." she whispered softly into OD's ear. "She seems a little cold-hearted to me...I don't think I trust her at all, lawful or not. Just because she's lawful, doesn't mean she's good."
She paused for a few minutes, then added, "I don't think we should be here..."
O'Dwyer had been watching the Veiled One, He whispers to BB, "Aye, Lass, yee may be right. How ken ye trust sumone whose face ye cannae see?" He took one of BB's hands to offer support. Then he realized something. "A course, see can nae see yer hands either." He let this be pondered, but eyed the exits just in case. He added, "If yer going, then so am I. I'll not leave yee alone after yee confided in me."
She smiled a rare, friendly smile and squeezed his hand with her gloved one in a silent thank-you.
They stuck close, listening to the conversation.
"I am most please to meet you, Ma'am. I am Morague Rheras." Morague began "I have heard so much about you & your associates - I'm a little overwhelmed! Please, let me introduce my companions - BB, Serena, Dalton, Jessa, Solace & O'Dwyer. But...., where to begin? One of my companions came into the possession of a cursed sword quite some time ago. It's a very unusual sword, best if I let BB tell you about it."
Black Blade blinked at Morague, her crimson eyes shifty, untrusting, not at her, really, but something else. O'Dwyer seemed to say something to her, but no one else caught it.
"Cursed or not, it's still my sword," she whispered, eyeing longingly the ale. "And although I would like to get rid of the curse, I don't know what it would do to me or my blade."
Morague continued. "We have very limited information & have been led to understand that if we locate the Gelatint Castle we might be able to solve her problem. We have mostly just heard the rumors & have no real idea of where to start looking for this Castle Gelatint. We were hoping that you might be able to point us in the right direction, if not with information then perhaps a lead to someone we could contact? Also, another matter came up on our way here. We met a cleric of Zilchus, a Father Steif, who is living in a small cottage about a days ride from here. Father Steif was infected with lycanthropy by a werewolf a year ago & much to his credit, continues to fight the "beast within" on his own. I am not far enough along in my training to have been any assistance to him. I'd like to draw you a map to his place, perhaps you can help him. On a more mundane level, I need to replenish my Holy Water supply & I'd like to make a donation to your good works."
The Veiled One appeared to be paying attention, though without the usual facial cues it was hard to tell. Andar spoke first. "Looking for a castle to help with a cursed item. Hah, now there's a switch. That's how we came to be here."
The Veiled One's motherly voice came though the black sheath. "Now Andar, that is somewhat misleading. We came here because something was causing trouble in this area. Something evil. It was you who chose to put on that glove. And it was not cursed, either."
Andar, gave her a glance, then continued, "Well, yes, I suppose you are right. But then again, the glove chose me. Spoke in my head. Begged me to save it. Once I put that glove on, I found myself under its power, now didn't I?"
"Yes, Andar, that is true." Their conversation had begun to take on the sound of an old married couple. Could they be ..... ?
O'Dwyer spoke. "Did yee say, ya came oonder the powerrr of this glove?" He appeared to be looking at Black Blade as he spoke.
"That is correct, I was, well sort of."
"Well, Sir. I cannae see a glove on yer hand at the present. What became `o it, if ye don't mind me asking."
The Veiled One answered. "The glove, as it turned out, was a power of law, and it led us to a castle where it had to meet the power of chaos. When the glove touched its opposite, the two blew apart."
Andar cut her off. "Quite an explosion, it was. But I came though unscathed. All I have left is this ring," he held out his right hand, "it appeared on my finger when the smoke cleared."
"Now, Andar, that is not quite true. The gem in that ring was part of the glove. The gem transformed itself into a ring in the explosion."
Andar admitted that this was correct. "But then, you got the other gem, now didn't you?"
"Yes, that is true. I found it on the ground, the others let me keep it. Of course, there were two other gems. I remember that blade slinger, something..."
"Kyronn. His name was Kyronn."
"Yes, that was it. Now he got one, and, someone else got one. Can you remember?"
"No, can't say I do, but what has this to do with "
"Now Andar, no need to go off the handle, I was just thinking out loud."
O'Dwyer interrupted this little spat, "Forrrce of chaos? Chaos is not automatically bad," his Trithereon hackles rousing. "Those of my kind find purrpose in chaos, long as therrre's good ta be doon."
The Veiled One spoke. "There are times when I agree with that sentiment. This was not one of them. For the other glove was the force of chaos for evil. I'm sure those of your order would oppose that, now wouldn't you?"
O'Dwyer was mildly chastised, yet he smiled. "Yee got me therrre Missey. Didn't think one as lawful as yee would everr agrrree with one of us."
Her tone sounded like an elementary school teacher reprimanding a tardy student. "My, my, you are quick to judgement." She continued with almost a laugh in her voice. "What ever made you equate me with law? I serve good, and good alone. I bring the light to the darkness. Nothing ever has, no ever will stand in my way."
Andar said, "That's right. That's why the glove picked me. I'm the lawful one. I often remind her, that the good glove chose me."
"Well, this damned cape chose me," She blurted, flicking the red cape that drapped from her neck down her back. Actually. now that she had brought attention to it, it appeared to be attached to her neck, as if part of her.
"Now now kiddies, play nice," said a fresh voice, for an elf had entered, till this moment unnoticed, the dining hall.
Andar turned to him. "Basil, glad you could be here. We were just sharing old war stories. Perhaps you'd like ......?" but his voice faded as he saw the elf's good humor change.
"Now Andar, you know better than that," as the one called Basil took some food and moved off to the side.
"Yes, but I thought, maybe he'd finally like to talk."
"He'll talk when he's ready." She let this sink in.
Her body turned towards Morague. The light reflected across her veil in such a way so as to suggest that there were actually eyes underneath. She returned to the topic at hand. "You mention Father Steif. Yes, we have heard of his plight, and for now, are monitoring the situation. But we have no solution. I do pray for him."
*Poor man* Jessa thought sympathtically.
Andar lept back in. "Did I hear you mention Gelatint? The legendary Gelatint. Hmm, good luck."
"Now Andar, that's what they said to us when we went off."
"Yes, but we had the glove to guide us."
"Well, they could ge the monks to guide them, or at least get their guidance."
Morague got a word in. "Monks? Where would we find these monks. Do they know where this Geletint is?"
"If anyone does, they do. We will give you explicit instuctions where they reside. If they know, I'm sure they will tell you. And, yes, I have holy water to spare, and yes, we will gladly accept your donation." She took a chair and sat down for the first time. She began to eat, somehow managing to get the food inside her robe, behind her veil, and presumably into her mouth, though no one could see the later for sure. The elf ate silently. Andar moved over to him. "Sorry, maybe someday."
The elf seemed to say, "Maybe."
After eating a bit, the Veiled One invited Morague to join her in afternoon worship. Before she left she stated, "You will all be staying with us this night. We'll have supper here at seven. Feel free to do as you like for the remiander of the afternoon." And the two clerics of Pelor began to leave. She turned, and threw out, "Of course, O'Dwyer, you are free to join us..."
"Aya, Missey I yam. But I'm ooslo free to not."
And the two clerics of Pelor left for now.
Andar rose, "Yes, our hacienda is your hacienda. " He seemed to find this really funny for some reason.
Black Blade shot O'Dwyer a look, one of her white eyebrows arched upward.
"Damn, when it comes to cursed items, we hit the jackpot," she hissed for her entire troop to hear. Aloud, she retorted to their hosts: "If you want to get technical, Fear chose me." Leaning back, she shot OD another look. "And there is nothing wrong with Chaos. There must be balance between Law and Chaos, a constant struggle between the two, neither of them getting the upper hand. Good and Evil are different concepts entirely, working perpendicular to Law and Chaos. Me and OD may be a chaotic sorts, but we have good intentions. I had an 'incident' with a dragon who was lawful evil. My point is, what exactly is good and evil? The hero may think he's good, killing all who stand in his way during a quest. The pendulum swings both ways."
Solace was both shocked and impressed by the mention of a dragon, never having encountered one of the revered/feared beasts herself. She was definitely not keen to be around for the next dragon 'incident' BB might get herself into.
Solace suggested: "Good people generally do kind things and Evil people generally do bad things, but Black Blade's right. There is usually both good and evil in most people, I guess the proportions sort it out in the end."
O'Dwyer seemed to nod in agreement.
Now that Black Blade had her philosophical spurt for the week, she took a full swig of ale, wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and stood up.
"If you'd excuse me, I need to step outside for a few minutes."
O'Dwyer said, "Yeah, me too. Been meaning to check on the horrrses equipment.
"So, bloke," BB turned to face her friend while helping him tend to the horses, "What do you think of the Veiled One? I don't know about you, but I don't like the way they flaunted the facts about the glove and the ring and especially the cloak. I mean, how long did it take me to tell you about Fear? And about this?" she wiggled her pinkies somewhat. "I don't like this. Call me paranoid, but this place doesn't settle right with me."
"Aye, Lass, she t'is a bit of an odd byrd. And that glove story, as if it was a simple tale. Now yoou had a arrd time hiding that sworrrd `a yourrs. It kinda gave the secret away on it's own, now didn't it?
He continued to see to the horses, checking the saddle straps. "I figurrre it one a three ways. Eitherr she and her friend Andarrr arrre quick, awfully quick, to trrrooost people. Or, once she knew about Morague, we werrre in like Flynn. Or, and this is the ooone that concerrrns me, they had soome way `a knowing about us, or knew who we werrre already, beforrre we got `ere."
Once the saddle straps had been inspected, he turned his attention to the reins and bridles, checking for any signs of wear.
"In any case, I doo trust `em. I don't think we have anything to fearrr from `em. Tell ye what. Tonight at supperrr, I'll ask `em just what goes on here. "
He busied himself with the bridles, and added with a wink and a smile, "And, Lass, don't ferget, just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they' not watching yer." His voice had a playful lilt in it.
"How're you calling paranoid?" she smirked. "I can't help it. There's something unsettling with them to me. And I know they're watching us."
Stretching with her arms over her head, she sighed.
"I don't why any of you are still welcoming me with you, but I'm glad for it."
"We'rrre jest as glad ta have yee, Lass. This will all work out, you'll see." He finished with the horses, and said, "Now woonder if I ken get inta that game `a Solace's. I doo play a bit `a cards."
Solace spent the afternoon playing cards with some of the guys and O'Dwyer. In the course of the game the men, the sarge and three of his friends, told of how they came to live and work at this villa. They had been castle guards at a place called Alderweg, once a great outpost in the northern fringes of the Welkwood. The castle had lost its significance after the great peace of 570. They were part of a skeleton crew that manned the castle which found itself severely undermanned when a band of gnolls, led by a crazed ogre, had attacked it a few years back. Sarge and the guys found themselves prisoners in their own home. They were rescued by Andar, the Veiled One, and their companions. The Sarge decided to serve these two, and his men followed.
Solace thoroughly enjoyed the tale, expressing surprise, dismay, and jubilation at all the right moments, especially at the end, when she found herself the big winner, coming out 17 gp to the good!
"You've got a way with carrrds," noted O'Dwyer, as they headed in for supper.
Before dinner, the Femmes gathered in their rooms, where Morague filled them in on what had transpired between her and the Veiled One.
Morague confessed that she had been somewhat excited by the meeting. "It was all I could do to not prattle on forever, though I'm afraid I must have seemed so. I told how I'd like to hear the whole story of this place sometime, and how impressed I was with this villa. Then I asked her about these monks, and how they might help us. She said that they are the longest residents of this region, and are rumored to have vast knowledge of its history. She figures that they'll have heard of Gelatint, and might be able to help us find it. She knows of the Keep of Alderweg, but not of Gelatint. " She had to pause to catch her breath and have a drink of water..
"Yes," said Solace, OD and I heard all about Alderweg."
"Aye, sooome fine adventurrre it bee."
Morague continued. "Unfortunately, she knew nothing of Fear, as swords are not her specialty. When I asked her about Father Steif and his dilemma, she wondered if all this wasn't related in some way, you know, our desire to solve the mystery of BB's sword, stumbling upon Steif, coming here, Gelatint. She 's very philosophical and takes a whole world approach to events." Morague paused for another breath. "Oh, yes. She promised that one of the men would guide us to Montelegro. That's the monastery which, I guess, will be a next stop. She assured me that the monks do welcome visitors. "
Each was left to contemplate these words for some minutes before the call was made to supper.
"Ah, the fine china," noted Andar, as he urged everyone to sit wherever they liked. He, the Veiled One, and Basil intermingled themselves with their guests.
All helped themselves to food. Andar opened the conversation with, "I hear you're quite the card sharp," directing his gaze towards Solace.
She replied, "I was today. But luck, as you know, changes like the weather. Speaking of which, I can't help but ask about the last thing you said this afternoon. Why should we need to be wished good luck? I there something evil about this Gelatint we seek?"
Andar smiled at Solace, "You'll not know till you find it. And, to find anything that is lost, you usually need luck."
"Well, do you know of this Gelatint?"
"A bit, but not much. I have heard that some centuries ago a great family ruled there, something to do with three crowns I believe."
"Aye, that's what Arrrtemus told us."
Andar nodded at this corroboration. "Now what exactly happened to this family, or the castle for that matter, is not know. I have heard, and this is just hearsay mind you, that evil magic played a role. That one of the kings came under the influence of an evil spell, or an evil item, and it led to his, the families' and the castle's downfall."
Silence greeted this little surmise; O'Dwyer and Black blade exchanged glances.
Jessa broke the silence, "A, er, Veiled One? Our friend Morague says that you think these monks might be able to help us. How do they monks know of the castle? Forgive me, but I was trained to be suspicious of everything," the former mercenary elf stated bluntly.
"Suspicion when placed well is well placed," her motherly tone assured. "I do know that the monk of Montelgro have and extensive collection of writings. I hope that there will be something related to Gelatint among them. Now as to the trustworthiness of this order. People go there to be healed. I have heard that the waters of Montelgro have powers. Some who live here have come by way of the monastery and report that their anything from their spirits to actual injuries were aided by drinking from the spring there. "
The blonde elf nodded, reassured.
O'Dwyer spoke. "Now that yee mention those who live `ere, just what are these people doing `ere. How do you coome by them, if ye don't mind me askin."
The Veiled One answered simply. "All in need are welcome here."
Andar picked up the thread. "At times she is too modest. After our trip to Alderweg, we were left with this villa. Mother superior here," pointing to VO, "insisted we turn it into a refuge for any who needed a place to stay, to get themselves back in order. We accept any who wander in, help them in whatever small ways we can. Some stay on the fields for a long time, others just pass through.
O'Dwyer continued, "Have yee noticed any incrrrease in visits ooof late?"
"Yes, we have. The past months have shown an increase in people heading south. Why do you ask?"
"Jest woondering," but there was an ominous tone to OD's sign off.
Solace broke the silence. "Recently I was repairing a door on a house not far from here, all your doors look in pretty good shape by comparison. What's the story, are you guys door-fixing fanatics or something?"
Andar laughed. "You could say that. This place was in serious disrepair when we first came, but be `bout two year's ago now. So we worked very hard to get it in shape. Little Mother here insisted we put most of our funds into it."
"Now Andar, you know as well as I that you were all for it."
Since the Veiled One had entered the fray, Solace asked, " And what's with the veil?"
Andar splurted his drink in a haze of spirits across the table. Basil actually smiled. Morague inhaled so hard as to almost swallow her tongue. O'Dwyer asided, though loud enough to hear, "Glad sumoone asked. Save me the troouble. I surrre was currrious."
"Well I do pride myself on sensitivity and tact" said Solace, suppressing a grin.
All eyes fell on the hostess. Silence enveloped the room. The robbed figure began to shiver, shake, and then ..... laugh, a ripple at first, then a chuckle, then a guffaw till it looked like a robe tossed about in a wind storm.
Andar soon joined in, as did Basil, tears formed in their eyes, streamed down their cheeks. It took five minutes for them to regain their composure.
The Veiled One turned towards Solace. "I have worn this veil for more years than I care to count. You, young lady, are the first person to ever just come right out and ask. Most act as if it's not there; others look at my feet or their own; some try to see through it." She still had a laugh in her voice. "Since you asked honestly, I'll answer you in kind. Sparing the gory details, my face is hideous. Pure and simple. It is the cross I bear. I hope someday to be able to face the world as I truly am. And, that someday they'll be able to face me. For now, I wear a veil."
"As do we all, in some way, as do we all," added Basil, returning to his somber self once more.
Solace was a little embarrassed, she mumbled an apology. Solace said, "The veil is so beautiful. I just assumed it must have some magical property."
The Veiled One commented, "In some ways it does. It magically makes me much more acceptable than does my face. People are usually more intrigued by the mystery of it, than they are by the reality of my."
Andar had regained his composure. "Come on, eat, eat! There's plenty for all. My, it is good to have visitors."
As the meal continued, O'Dwyer said, "Morrrague tells us that yee'll be lending us a guide ta this Montelgrrro?"
"Yes, that is correct. One of the men, Carl perhaps, can lead you up there. It's less than a days ride. You can set out in the morning, or stay a few days if you wish ." Her tone was much warmer than it had been.
"Yes," agreed Andar, "stay as long as you like."
Daltonne asked "These waters of Montelegro -- do ya thin' they may 'elp Father Steff and his curse? Or even 'elp BB? Or, beggin' your pardon Veiled One, but yer face? Iffin you thin' so mayhap the good monks will part with some. We kin bring it to you as thanks fer yer hospitality."
The Veiled One turned towards Daltonne, "Thank you for the kind offer, but I have already tried the waters. They were discovered some time ago with the help of a group from Chatwin. Unfortunately, these waters are not as powerful as that. And, I doubt they would help poor Father Steif."
"Thank you very--" Jessa yawned in mid-sentence,"--much. Forgive me, I must be more tired than I thought."
"It is a shame," Black Blade mumbled, staring into her drink, "That people cannot see what lies beneath the skin." Sighing, she stood. "I think I'll turn in for the night. If you'll excuse me." She took her mug, filled it with ale, and headed off to the guest room.
Morague heartily thanked her hosts for their warm hospitality and retired early. " I'm more tired than I thought & I could use a good night's sleep if we're off in the morning. Night all."
O'Dwyer stayed on for a bit. Then, just before retiring he said, "I'd just as soon leave in the morrrning, lest I have to spend anotherr day losing me shirt ta quick fingerrrs over therrre," indicating Solace, who took him for a few coins in the card game.
Solace was overwhelmed by the hospitality of the hosts, but nevertheless she was keen to get away early the next morning, seeing no reason to delay the quest. "I wouldn't want to have to take any more of the good cleric's money" she added, winking at OD. Solace checked the air outside and found it to be rather chilly. While she would have preferred to sleep outdoor, she settled for the bed in her room.
Daltonne left with them.
All retired to their rooms. Most rested comfortably, `cept the troubled Black Blade. She sat on the floor, pulled her knees to her chest, and cried softly, remembering what happened some thirty years ago with a blue dragon...
Jessa had a better time of it, though she did dream of a man with blue hair and a hideous scar circling his neck, the only mark he received when his head was chopped off.
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