Amàrad 4-5, 653 DR. Vorén is ambushed outside the Dalūj Malar and escapes. Group visits the Burning Dog tavern and a fight ensues. Anke is introduced. Vorén tries to make new friends. Ferveo learns of a local monastic order.

Continued from Secrets of the Sha’al.

Wōdor, 5 Amàrad 653

The weight of the red jade heavy in his pocket, Vorén left Lzar’s inn for home. Stepping from the front door of the Dalūj Malar however a thrown knife cut into his shoulder and bounced to the planking. Looking around, the Neveren found a swordsman rushing toward him, and a figure to his left drawing another dagger. Before he could retreat into the inn another dagger clattered past him. Stepping backward he closed the inn’s shuttered doors, but the swordsman shouldered them aside with a splintering crunch of broken slats. As Vorén turned to run he noticed that Lzar was absent, the tavern empty. A sword tip nipped into the back of his arm as he fled through the upturned chairs of the abandoned inn, and up the stairs to the mezzanine. Out onto the balcony he turned toward the inn’s riverside. There he swiftly clambered up onto the tiled roof and waited, listening. Below he could hear someone moving around on the balcony and talking to someone else in the street far below. The two voices talked for sometime, unwilling to admit that their quarry had eluded them. Slowly, Vorén moved across the roof of the Dalūj Malar careful not to upset or loosen the tiles. Crossing to the roof’s far side he slipped back to the balcony, and dropped to the street. Soon the pale Bu-Eylfāe had disappeared into the night.

Returning to Zuroolly’s, Vorén told Silda about what had transpired at the inn and showed her the red jade coin that was the Assassin’s Token. She asked why he hadn’t just given it over if he thought that’s why the men were after him, but Vorén explained that it was very valuable and a free kill of anyone they desired. Silda didn’t seem to grasp the importance Vorén saw in the token, but was tired and didn’t question him further.

Over the next couple days and nights, the group rested and convalesced under Zuroolly’s care. The days passed slowly.

Īrùlor, 7 Amàrad 653

On the seventh of Amàrad, Zuroolly awoke and went looking for work. A contact of his explained that a manse across the neighborhood had some crumbling stonework in a courtyard wall that needed repairing. The bent old man jumped at the chance and spent the day mortaring old cracks and fashioning a couple new blocks. Come evening they decided to head into town and take-in some night life. Zuroolly led them around Akàzjir to places he knew, but none appealed to the group until they heard string music weakly playing under the uproar of a raucous crowd. Deciding this was their destination, the group entered the Dysman bar. None noticed the vine covered sign over the door bearing the faded image of a burning dog.

Inside they found a large Y-shaped room of serried Yrūnyr, Dwürdènyr, and Ōélyr. At the room’s center, where the two bars joined, a woman played a stringed-instrument, though few seemed to notice her efforts. An aurala landed by her feet and she saw a particularly drunken Dwürden stood atop a table dancing to the tune she played. The group settled-in and ordered their drinks. Zuroolly, somewhat smitten with the bardess, decided to help her out with some magical assistance. Crossing to an open window he began to cast an illusion of dancing monkeys. The monkeys began to shape when a loud Dwürden clapped him on the back yelling, “I saw you do that! You were casting a spell. You shouldn’t use magic.” When Zuroolly asked him why the Dwürden stammered and got angry, and soon his friends did too. Shortly the shorter-side of the bar erupted into fisticuffs and swinging tankards. The bardess dodged as a tankard broke against the wall next to her. The Halvers darted away from the fracas, a line of them finding their way under the lip of the bar to watch the brawl.

Zuroolly tried to cast but was soon overwhelmed with angry drunken Dwürden swinging tankards and fists, and yelling at the tops of their lungs. Silda, seeing her aged friend getting battered into a corner, pulled her sword and waded forward, knocking Dwürden aside with the pommel and flat of her blade. Ferveo, the first to come to Zuroolly’s aid stood near his host, exchanging clumsy punches with many of the Dwürden. Vorén worked his way around the fight but tripped trying to vault the stage. While picking himself up from the shard littered platform, a heavy tankard crashed down near his head and he locked gaze with an opportunistic drunken Dwürden. Surreptitiously drawing his dagger, he plunged the blade into the short man’s chest. The man sucked for air, and fell heavily to the floor. Slipping the blade back out of sight, the Neveren continued to the room’s far side.

Nearby, Zuroolly’s back was pressed against a bar. One of his stocky foes continued to swing at him, another shaking the dazing spell from his head, turned and punched his fellow. The other, not as dazed but fully as drunk turned and began a smaller brawl among themselves. As the Dwürden pummeled one another, the old black sorcerer crawled over the counter with Anke the bardess and the bartender who had pulled out a shield to protect himself.

Across the floor, Ferveo continued to punch and strike any of the Dwürden that came near. Soon the floor was littered with the bruised and passed-out bodies of the stocky brethren. As the tavern returned to business, the Halvers combed across the floor, picking pockets and kicking the fallen Dwürden. Vorén watched as an thin Yrūn crouched over the dead man for a while, and then followed him when he stood and swiftly left the Burning Dog. Outside, Vorén trailed the man from Dysma to south Ðōjìri waterfront. The man disappeared into a dark house. Looking around the Neveren decided to take in the local color and visited a particularly smoky and quiet dweme. Led upstairs to the rooftop tables he partook of a bowl of Daça and watched the early morning marsh bats wheel and flutter in the night sky. Soon, someone was sitting nearby.

In the Burning Dog, Silda dragged the battered Dwürden from the tavern and dumped them into the muddy street. Returning, Padik the tavern-keeper thanked her and offered her free drinks for the rest of the night. Later, a drunken Silda was approached many times by partying Halvers claiming who claimed that there were bets going around that she could pick up four of them. Despite a 5 aurala stake in the sport, she refused them. During the early morning hours, Ferveo was approached from a man who said he recognized Ferveo’s fighting style as similar to that of a group on the Northshore. The man went on to explain that the monks there dressed a bit differently, and people stayed clear of them because they tended to bully nonmembers. The man also described that he had seen them using strange weapons which Ferveo recognized (from the description) as Sha’ali Shar’an. Ferveo continued to confuse the man, talking about the True Path of Peace, but the barfly became bored and left the tavern.

Rodor, 8 Amàrad 653

With the coming of dawn, the “heroes” picked up their things and headed back to Zuroolly’s.

Continued in The Ring and the Seal.

• Ferveo Cælestis
• Talôr Dal-Vorenen
• Silda of Wurm
• Zuroolly Hicubaba
• Anke (Bardess)
• Jar’dēl (Rogue)
• Arūn Karçur
• Lzar (Barkeep)
• Mizèrrim (Rogue)
• Ne’dos (Ftr..)
• Padik (Barkeep)

Played: 11 Jan 2001