11 Ambyrmont - Ever Onwards, Ever Upwards

 Thankful for an undisturbed night's sleep, Broneslav packed up his camp and set out at first light. His experience of ranging wildernesses came in handy as he picked his way up the steep cliffs and hillsides of the volcano. It was difficult going, but he was able to find a stable path that did not slide out from under his feet as he climbed. He cursed the volcanic ash that got into his every orifice as he climbed and that made the climbing all the harder because it was soft and gave underfoot, but he made good progress.

Balancing tentatively on a boulder outcrop, he ate his lunch and looked out over the plateau back the way he had come. The mountains he had crossed before were dwarfed by the volcano he now climbed. Just a little further and he might even see over them to the jungles beyond. As he did this, he kept a wary eye out for the pteranodons and pterodactyls that he had seen before, but they resolutely circled much higher than he was. He praised the immortals and asked their blessing that the beasts might not consider him a morsel worth plucking off this barren hillside.

The volcano got rockier!

After lunch he carried on picking his way slowly and carefully up the volcano. By late evening, he had to put on his warmer clothes from his pack. The hillside was getting icy and snow lay in patches across it. Further up Broneslav could see that the snow and ice lay thicker upon the hillside. He soldiered on. The snow actually made the climb slightly easier. It was hard frozen and gave firmer footing than the volcanic ash, but he had to watch out for sheet ice that would treachously trip him. Still, shortly before dark, he reached the summit. From here, he could see across most of the island. Though the sun had set on the land below, up here it would shine a while longer. He used that to his advantage to dig his camp into the snow and to light a fire to keep warm. It was fortunate that he had brought wood with him for this purpose, because there was none up here. He settled in for the night and prepared himself for the hard climb down, that would, at least be shorter if not easier, but getting a good night's sleep.

It is fortunate that Broneslav has wilderness skills and that I rolled well for him to see if he made the right preparations. Had I not done so, he would be suffering frostbite now!

10 Ambyrmont - The Plateau

 Waking early, Broneslav packed his things together and set out towards the ruins. It was easier going across the plateau which was strewn with small rocks and boulders and scrubby brush, but nothing to hold him up like the jungle had.

Detail will be added to this map as Broneslav explores.

The journey went faster than he had thought it would. By midday he had reached a river that crossed the plateau. He slaked his thirst, filled his waterskin and waded across it. The river was not deep, but the cooler air on the plateau made the water feel colder than he liked. Climbing out on the other side, he shivered a little in the breeze, but it dried him quickly too as he pressed on.

By mid-afternoon, Broneslav was standing at the base of the volcano staring up at it. It had looked smaller and less intimidating before. Now he could clearly see that it would be a steep, rocky and difficult climb. Worse yet, more of those giant birds were circling in the air far above. He could just make out their raucous screeches far overhead. It would be hard work both climbing and fighting if he had to do both at the same time.

Broneslav decided that the climb would take too long and that he would not make enough progress to warrant starting now, so he sat down near the river and got out his fishing line. Later that evening, he was cooking fresh fish over his fire and feeling quite pleased with himself. With a full belly, he lay down and went to sleep. Tomorrow would be a hard climb and he wanted to be well rested for it.

9 Ambyrmont - Pteranodon Pterror!

 The next morning, Broneslav gathered his things together and set out to cross the rope bridge onto the plateau. Its presence indicated that intelligent creatures lived in this area, but there was no guarantee that they would be friendly, so he was wary as he approached it and took time to survey his surroundings. He noted giant birds circling in the sky at a distance, and their coarse cries wafted to him on the breeze. There was no sign of other activity here, beyond the usual small birds and animals that scattered from the area as he approached.

He was halfway across the bridge when several piercing shrieks rang out in quick succession. A trio of the giant birds swooped at him. He was startled, but their cries alerted him to the attack. He swiftly drew his sword and grabbed his shield, ready to defend himself. As he did so, he became excessively aware of the ricketiness of the bridge he stood on. There was no time to run to the end and get onto solid land, so he would just have to watch his footing.

As the first pteranodon swooped in, Broneslav cut towards its neck with his sword. The blade bit just behind the creature's crest and sliced on through to decapitate it. The follow through nicked the following pteranodon, causing it to flinch away from him, missing its chance to strike at the young warrior. The third one struck towards Broneslav, but he ducked under it.

As it flew past him, his blade struck true again and the pteranodon screeched its pain as blood flowed freely from a deep wound. Once more, Broneslav ducked and weaved on the wobbly bridge, just barely keeping his footing, as one of the pteranodons bit through a gap in his armour, and his own blood started to flow. He was startled but still managed to evade the attack of the other one.

Bracing himself once more, Broneslav swung wildly at the nearest swooping pteranodon, just barely cutting it again, but it was enough. The birds innards sprayed outwards and it plummeted to the ground far below. Undismayed, the final pteranodon struck for Broneslav, but with only one remaining, he was able to focus properly on it and block its attack. As it swooped in for another go at the heroic lad, he thrust hard with his blade. It struck in the creature's sternum and the dinobird's own momentum carried the razor sharp edge through its own body, tearing it open from stem to tail. Blood and bile sprayed everywhere as it followed its fellows on the long fall to the ground.

The whole plateau (A very basic map!). At its centre is a volcano.

Broneslav quickly bound his wounds and crossed the bridge to the plateau beyond. It was weirdly flat and steppe-like. Grass blew like waves in the breeze and there were woods all around. Ahead, he could see the volcano that the city must be within. Its sides were steep and would take a long while to climb.  Thin wisps of smoke rose from its top, just barely visible, but clearly not an imminent eruption. If he carried on, he could reach the volcano late in the evening, but it would be dark by then, so he sought shelter in a small woods ahead of him instead. He would sleep first, and march to the volcano in the morning, so that he would arrive in daylight with plenty of time to explore and see how he might get up it.

6-8 Ambyrmont - A Free Pass

 

Broneslav slogged on up the hills to a mountain pass that the Rakasta had told him about. This made it slightly quicker going for him and two days later he was descending from the mountains towards a huge river that had cut a deep swath through the landscape. From his vantage point at the end of the pass, he could see a bridge crossing the chasm in the distance, clearly connected to the massive plateau beyond. This, he thought, was his objective. He set up camp just short of the bridge, in a sheltered spot and settled down for the night.

Suddenly the peace of the night was shattered by screams and thrown sticks and stones and shit. Broneslav had inadvertantly camped in the territory of another troop of rock baboons. He grabbed his stuff and found another place to camp that was quieter but not as comfortable. He would cross the bridge tomorrow and find out if the rumours of a mysterious city were true.

5 Ambyrmont - Uphill all the Way

Broneslav spent a while the next morning cleaning his gear. The rock baboons had really made a mess of it, and it was rather too smelly for comfort, like the midden behind his grandmother's house. Then he set out, picking his way out of the jungle and up into the mountains ahead. As he climbed, he kept his eyes out for danger, and he was right to do so. Ahead, he spotted a group of mould-encrusted zombies. Unfortunately, they had spotted him too, and were heading in his direction. He could easily outrun them, even in this terrain, but they would certainly catch up with him when he stopped to rest. Feeling that he could not take a chance, he unshipped his bow and waited.

As the zombies reached the limit of his range, he fired his first shot. It was a solid hit and the zombie did not stand back up again. They shambled on and he took another shot. A miss. He cursed as a valuable arrow zipped off to be lost among the hillside somewhere. His third shot hit a zombie but the monster kept coming. The fourth wounded that same zombie, while the fifth slew it. With the zombies getting perilously close, he took one final, careful shot. A freak gust of wind carried it away from the zombies.

There was no time left. He picked up his shield and sword, and charged. Two zombies were brutally slaughtered in his initial onslaught. Claws shrieking on armour were testimony to the ferocity of the remaining zombies' attacks, and Broneslav staggered under the impact of five undead bodies, but he held his feet and fought on. He knocked the feet out from under one of them and crushed its head with his booted foot, even as he spun with a terrific blow that sliced through the neck of a second zombie and through the dried up, rotting torso of a third. Undeterred, the last two zombies clawed at Broneslav and tried to drag him to the ground, but to no avail.

Spinning on his toes once more, he grabbed his sword with both hands and unleashed a fearsome roar. His sword might as well have been cutting through butter as it sliced a zombie in two, and the follow through gutted the last of the zombies.

Broneslav paused to catch his breath a moment before cleaning his blade and carrying on. As twilight arrived, he looked for a place to camp once more. Ahead he saw a slight fire. He tried to sneak up to see who it was, but a huffing noise followed by a low growl told him that he had been spotted.

Standing up, he looked over the rocks and saw a small hunting party of Rakasta gathered awaiting him. Two sabre-toothed tigers were standing alertly looking in his direction. Before he could even call out to ask permission to approach, one of the Rakasta beckoned him in.

"Welcome, Broneslav from the Far North. We have heard of you. You are welcome as brother and warrior to us."

From the sound of it, Rakasta moved faster through the jungle than he did, if this hunting party had heard of him already. He and the Rakasta traded tales and food, before Broneslav enjoyed a completely mosquito-free night's sleep.

3-4 Ambyrmont 1000 AC - Another Day in the Jungle

 Refreshed and alert, Broneslav wished his hosts goodbye and set out once more on his journey northwards. He realised that he had been far too optimistic about his chances of getting to his goal and back in the time he had allotted, but he was determined to find out what the deal was with this city, so he would just carry on and see what happened. The first day trekking through the jungle passed without incident and he was less bothered by the mosquitoes thanks to an unguent his Phanaton hosts had given him. Even his sleep was better now, but he would have to conserve his supply because there was not a lot of it.

Broneslav heaved a sigh of relief as he reached the edge of the hills beyond the jungle. The oppressive heat was getting to him, and even with the unguent, the mosquitoes were plaguesome, and he began to wonder if it was all worth it. Suddenly loud screaming and a hail of sticks, stones and shit showered down on him. He ducked back into the cover of the jungle as fast as he could and looked around. Ahead of him, partially in the jungle and partially among rocks in the trees was a troop of oversized baboons. They seemed to think that Broneslav was not welcome here. He decided to circle around them and find a place to camp for the night, before he carried on into the mountains that barred his way to the city.

As he made camp, he reflected on his discussion with the village elders at Tanaroa. They had suggested that the city lay just the other side of the mountains, so he was near his destination, but it would still be a  heavy climb to get there.

2 Ambyrmont 1000 AC - Play that Tarantella for Me

  Unarmed and outnumbered, Broneslav had no choice but to obey his captors. Well, technically he did, because he was larger than these creatures and stronger, but they had not attacked him, so he would bide his time before deciding if attacking them was necessary. As a merchant's son, he knew that you could not sell things to dead people.

The creatures motioned him to a rope ladder that ascended into the trees. Climbing it, he found himself in a treetop village where more of the strange people awaited him. Many chittered at him in a language he could not understand, but eventually he was brought across the platforms of the treetop village to a grey-haired creature who addressed him in strangely accented Common.

"Who are you and why are you in our domain?" the creature asked.

Broneslav answered truthfully that his curiousity had been piqued by tales of a city to the north and that he was passing through. He declared himself to be peaceful and not hostile to the creatures.

The clan chief, for such it turned out that she was, relaxed as the interrogation progressed. Eventually, she explained that she and her people were Phanaton, a Lawful tribe that lived on the island.

"We are opposed to the Anarea spider-people, who are the personification of Chaos here, because they keep attacking us and sending giant spiders to kill us. A group of these giant spiders, Tarantellas, have been spotted to the west. You are clearly strong and well-armed. Will you help us to be quit them? We can reward you?"

Giant Spider token. (c) ProFantasy Software Ltd
(Found in Token Treasury 1)

Broneslav explained that he had seen these Tarantellas just the day before and had avoided them because there seemed no reason to attack them, but he would certainly help the Phanaton. The chittering around him grew louder, and the guards returned his armour and weapons.

"There is little reason to delay," he declared, "If they are still where I saw them or you know where they are now, we should go at once."

He set out accompanied by a half a dozen Phanaton warriors, who glided between the trees ahead of him on flaps of skin that stretched between their hands and feet. The warriors made sure that the young warrior could always see them as their skirmish line advanced and he found it relatively easy to keep up. A couple of hours later, they found the Tarantellas at the same time as the Tarantellas found them. The two foes viewed each across a clearing in the jungle.

Broneslav immediately fired an arrow at the frontmost of the enormous spiders. It was a solid hit, but it took four more arrows from the accompanying Phanaton to take it down. The other two spiders charged, covering the ground between the two groups in giant leaping bounds. Broneslav grabbed up his shield and blocked the attacking spider. One of the Phanaton warriors was not so lucky and died as the other spider bit its head off. This gory death was too much for four of the accompanying warriors, who fled up into the trees. The spiders did not seem to care about their dead companion.

Howling a fearsome warcry, Broneslav hacked right through the spider facing him. Glistening ichor sprayed him and those around him as his follow-through also wounded the other spider. Put off its attack, the spider only injured the next Phanaton warrior that it faced. Alas for that poor warrior, the spider's venom was fierce and deadly. Almost immediately, the warrior started twitching in a hideous semblance of dance. Too Broneslav's dismay, the other remaining warrior quickly followed suit. Although he could feel the call of the twisted dance, our hero was made of sterner stuff and resisted. Gritting his teeth, he turned to face the remaining spider.

A couple of quick blows finished the hideous beast off. Broneslav breathed a sigh of relief and went to the aid of his two afflicted companions. He found there was nothing he could do to stop their dance, but they quickly fell exhausted to the ground. About this time, the remaining warriors returned shamefacedly and the group carried their fallen comrade home.

Back at the village, the Phanaton mourned their fallen comrade, placing his body high in the trees near their home, so that his soul would journey more quickly to the afterlife.

"Thank you, human Broneslav, for your help. You did us a great service today. My warriors could not have taken on three such beasts alone."

The chief presented Broneslav with beautifully carved pendant of dark wood and silver inlay in the form of a Phanaton with jade eyes.

"We have little to offer by way of the wealth that our Elven friends tell us humans crave, but we hope that these will suffice as a reward. When you wear this pendant, all Phanaton will know that you are our friend and will aid you if they can."

Admiring the ornately carved pendant, Broneslav considered his options and decided to broach the subject of trade.

"If you can supply us with good arrow heads and other goods that are not easily made here, we shall trade with you."

Broneslav thanked the chief and they talked quietly as night fell, before a villager showed Broneslav to the guest rooms for non-Phanatons. From this he concluded that others also visited here and perhaps traded too. For the first time in some days, Broneslav had a good night's sleep far above the hunting grounds of the local mosquitoes.

Notes

Phanaton like Elves and are Lawful, so Broneslav had bonuses for dealing with them, both because of his alignment and because of his trait Elf Friend. With a half-decent die roll, he got a very good reaction and so was welcomed. Just as well, because the dice for him to wake up before they sneaked up on him were terrible and they could easily have murdered him in his sleep.

That said, I felt that as a Lawful species, the Phanaton would not execute Broneslav out of hand. There would have to be a trial of some sort first. Good job it did not come to that.

I was somewhat surprised how many "elite" Phanaton warriors fled when I made their morale roll, while the spiders easily passed theirs. Maybe Broneslav should have said something about this to the chief, but he held his tongue. Never badmouth your hosts, I guess.

The trade roll was average. There will be no special deals for Broneslav in the future.

28 Fyrmont to 1 Ambyrmont 1000 AC - Welcome to the Jungle

 After a good night's sleep in the camp, Broneslav bid the Rakasta farewell and headed north once more. The Rakasta had told him that the hills ended and the jungle began a few miles north-east of their camp. Perhaps he would make better time through the jungle. Well, he would find out.

The day passed fairly quickly and Broneslav made good time. The hills were soon behind him and the light jungle of the island proved to be easier going as the Rakasta had suggested. The jungle around him was alive with exotic creatures he had only read about, birds the size of his thumb, small apes and large lizards. However, the trek that day was peaceful and he bedded down for the night to the sound of monkey calls and rustling in the bushes.

The following day dawned warm and dry. Broneslav packed up and continued northwards. He made good progress and found trekking through the jungle easier than in the hills, so he was in a good mood until mid-afternoon. He stopped in his tracks, peeking out from behind a tree to be certain of what he had just seen ahead. Three giant spiders, their bodies longer than he was tall, were lurking in what he assumed was ambush. It was lucky that he had spotted them first or he would have been in for quite a fight. Broneslav chose discretion after assessing the size of the spiders, and marvelling at the venom dripping from their fangs. He headed west instead of north to get around them.

As he continued his journey the hoots of monkeys grew louder and he thought he saw large figures about the size of a halfling gliding through the trees. However, they did not bother him, so he ignored them. The noises of the jungle were loud, but he was tired from trekking and getting to sleep that night was easy for him.

The next morning, Broneslav awoke with a start to find a ring of raccoon-like monkeys or monkey-like raccoons around him. About the size of halflings with tails the length of their bodies, they had sneaked up on him in his sleep and he found his weapons and armour missing, when he reached automatically for them. Broneslav surrendered. They could have killed him in his sleep, so he thought that things would likely not be worse than being a captive for a while. Unless they planned to cook him, of course...

27 Fyrmont 1000 AC - Tyger, tyger...

 Broneslav woke at dawn, primarily because the mosquitoes also awoke and breakfasted on him. He got up and carried on northwards. It was slow, heavy going and he was beginning to doubt that he would make it to the city and back within the two weeks he had allowed himself. His youthful optimism had done him a bad turn! Well, he had given the captain orders and would see how far he got before he needed to turn back.

He waded out of the swamps into the hills. The going became easier for him, although not by much. As he crested a hill, he saw in the distance smoke rising as from a camp fire. He pondered whether to approach. While he pondered, he looked around. a couple of hundred paces away, he saw a group of zombies shambling towards him. They had obviously spotted him. He knew that these tireless undead would never stop pursuing him, so he prepared for battle. He placed his sword in the ground in front of him so that he could quickly pick it up. He placed his shield beside it and readied his bow. He reckoned he could get half a dozen shots off before the six zombies reached him. His first shot wounded one zombie. His second shot missed but his third and fourth shots killed a zombie each. The fifth shot wounded a zombie. The remaining four zombies were now just forty paces away. He dropped his bow and grabbed his sword and shield. In the time he took to do this, they were nearly upon him.

Broneslav leapt to the attack. Two more zombies fell as his sword cleaved through them, taking away whatever force animated them to unlife. The remaining two attacked, their claws making shrieking noises as they dragged across his shield and armour, but they could not penetrate the steel. Broneslav responded, manfully slicing his sword across their heads and bodies. Both zombies fell still. He paused to catch his breath before cleaning his weapons and putting them away. He examined the undead corpses before him. The shabby, rotting bodies stank, but there was nothing remarkable about them. He recovered his arrows from the corpses and carried on towards the smoke.

By early evening, he could see an encampment ahead. Half a dozen brightly coloured tents lay in a flat area in front of him. Smoke rose from the open sides of a central tent whose sides were rolled up. Three pavilions had a one side rolled up, and he could see giant cat-like creatures with foot-long, dagger-like teeth. He had never even heard of sabre-toothed tigers before, but the name sprang instantly to mind when he gazed upon them. A couple of dozen cat-like warriors were gathered in the camp. They appeared to be cooking dinner and repairing their equipment.

Despite his careful approach, several of the warriors were standing looking towards him. He decided to approach openly in the hope of gaining their trust, or at least a less-than-hostile welcome. Stepping out into the open he neared the camp, his hands held away from his weapons. He stopped fifty paces short of the camp and called out to those who watched.

"Hello the camp. I come in peace. Will you let me approach?"

The warriors conferred. One who was larger and more decoratively attired nodded to the others.

"Come ahead," the warrior said in strange, almost sibilant Common, as if using a human language through the sharp teeth that filled his mouth was difficult. Broneslav took note of these teeth and also of the iron sheaths on the razor-sharp claws at the ends of the man's fingers. The pantherish grace with which these men moved was not a metaphor. Although humanoid, they definitely had the appearance of tigers too.

Broneslav approached them and introduced himself.

"Our scouts saw you fight a group of zombies. You are a good warrior," the leader hissed. He touched his hand to his head in a gesture that Broneslav took for respect.

Broneslav nodded in turn and was lead to the camp fire where dinner was almost ready. He offered up some of his fresh supplies for the pot and the group began to talk, warily at first but more relaxed after a little as Broneslav told of his adventures and they told of their lives.

They were Rakasta warriors, a nomadic people. Their group was scouting for food for their main group which was based elsewhere. They knew of the city and informed Broneslav that it would be many days before he could reach there. The going was difficult and the challenges many, but they respected his desire to challenge himself. They invited him to stay the night with them, and then he could go on his way. Broneslav gladly accepted the offer.

As they were getting ready to bed down for the night the guards reported crashing sounds in the undergrowth. The Rakasta warriors grouped themselves and prepared for whatever approached. As they did so, a group of three cave bears blundered into view. Surprised, all three reared up on their hind legs, towering over the group of warriors and roared a challenge.

Broneslav was the first to react. He charged the nearest bear, his sword carving huge gashes through its hide. The Rakasta warriors were quick to follow suit, laying into the bears with teeth and claws. In that first rush, the group of Rakasta that had followed Broneslav tore down the bear he had badly wounded, while other groups of Rakasta wounded the other two cave bears. As the first bear crashed to the ground, the wounded bears roared in fear and fled back through the undergrowth.

The leader of the Rakasta examined the dead bear's wounds, "You have sharp teeth and are fierce, Broneslav. Count yourself our friend and know that you are welcome in our camp again. Come, bear meat is not good to eat, but creatures larger than this would consider it a delicacy. We must take the pelt for ourselves and move the meat away from our camp so that we are not disturbed again."

The next two hours were spent doing just that, before all but the guards bedded down for the night. Fortunately, the rest of the night was peaceful.

Notes

I've started redoing the map slightly and decided to leave the hex grid in, because Broneslav's movements were confusing me. I also now wish that I had just created the full map for the Isle of Dread and blocked out the unexplored hexes, as I am now doing. When setting up these turns, I plan to try to get ahead by filling in whole terrain areas from now on. That should make the movement part of these turns easier for me to keep track.

Broneslav got a brilliant reaction roll from the Rakasta. His boyish charm worked well on them. I figure they were particularly impressed by his warlike attire and one of their scouts may have seen him take down the zombies with ease. As a warrior race, they appreciate other warriors. I can fully imagine that this encounter would have resulted in a bloody aftermath in my youth, and it seems that the module is written that way, because it tells you little about the Rakasta other than their hit points and treasure.

The zombies were no threat at all really. The only annoying thing was him missing a couple of them. I decided that he could recover arrows from those he hit, but that misses meant he would lose the arrow. This could become important later on in this exploration.

26 Fyrmont 1000 AC - Into the Interior

 Waking early, Broneslav was grateful that nothing had disturbed his sleep. He shook his boots out, disturbing a scorpion in the process and got ready to move on. The hills looked like easier going, so he headed east around the tar pits and then north, skirting the edge of the hills. Somehow he wound up wading through the swamp.

As the day progressed, it got hotter. The mosquitoes became more annoying. Shortly after lunch, he was wading out of the swamp towards the hills when he spotted a group of very large bears 100 paces or so away from him. He froze, as one of the bears stood up on its hind legs. It was nearly three times his height. The bear snuffled in his direction as he backed slowly into the swamp again and skirted around the group. As he retreated from them, he saw the bears return to their lunch, which appeared to be an unfeasibly large creature that he could not identify at this distance. It made sense that giant bears would eat giant prey, he guessed.

Broneslav continued on through the swamp and ended the day making camp on its edge. He hoped that the bears were not still hungry as he tried to get to sleep.

25 Fyrmont 1000 AC - What Lies Beyond the Wall?

 "Captain, ensure that the trade goes smoothly, please and see to it that the ship is ready to depart as soon as I return. I shall endeavour to return within two weeks. If I have not returned by then, sail to Specularum and sell the cargo. Our factor will help with that and will also help to source a new cargo that you should return with. He will also arrange yours and the crew's pay."

Captain Decentius nodded. It seemed strange to him that the young man would willingly wander off into danger, but he certainly looked ready for it, clad as he was in shining plate armour and weighed down with weapons and supplies. He also moved as if his load weighed nothing. Clearly Broneslav was much stronger than he appeared to be.

Broneslav waved to those watching and marched off up the trail and through the gates. Warriors atop the towers on either side watched him go. Some appeared to be making bets on whether the beardless warrior would return at all and he guessed that most were betting against him.

He settled his pack on his back once more and set off. He had been told that there was a trail all the way to some tar pits that were about a day's travel from The Wall. That would be his first stop. Then he would head into the trackless interior.

As he walked, Broneslav took note of the terrain around him and scanned for danger. He was not expecting much this close to the village, but you never knew. The thin jungle around him for the first half of the day would easily have provided cover for bandits, were they looking for a fight. The track led through hills and then between swampy areas. It was hot, so he hung his helmet from his belt. He spent a large part of the afternoon slapping mosquitoes that had decided he was their next meal. It was late when he reached the tar pits. The only disturbances through the day had been the alarmed calls of birds that he had disturbed and the rustling of small animals in the undergrowth.

It had been an easy day, but the next would be harder, because there was no track from hereon in. From the tar pits, he had the choice of wading around the edge of the swamp to the hills to the east or to the mountains he could see in the distance in the west. As he prepared his evening meal, Broneslav considered his options, before settling down for the night.

The map's a bit rough, so I need to fettle it a wee bit, but that is partly because the areas around the edges have not been filled in yet. I'll update it as Broneslav progresses and hopefully it will start to look good before too long.

24 Fyrmont 1000 AC - Getting to Know You

 The auntie did not seem in a great hurry to begin trading, but Broneslav had grown up around merchants, so he knew to bide his time. It still made him impatient though. He wanted to see where his treasure map would lead him, not spend time socialising. Reining in his impatience, he followed the auntie to one of the nearby huts. It was a long wooden hut on stilts with palm leaves for a roof, and a roofed veranda all around. There were windows along its length. Under some of the huts, he could see people cooking over open fires. There was no glass in them but there were shutters on the outside. All the other huts in the village were almost exactly the same.

Inside, the windows were wide open and a fresh breeze blew through, cooling the warm air. One end of the hut was curtained off, but the rest was open with wide benches on either side. Bedrolls were packed against the wall. It looked like whole extended families lived in these huts with no separate rooms and no privacy.

A typical Thanegiothian hut based on descriptions given by the great explorer, Broneslav Torenescu.

The auntie headed for the only chair in the whole place and sat in it, The chair was towards the curtained off end of the hut facing down it, like a throne compared to the rest of the fittings here.

"Broneslav, come and sit here near me on my left side."

She waved him to a place on the bench near her. He sat as indicated with Captain Decentius beside him. Four men took up places on the benches to her right and a gaggle of children gawped through the windows at the strangers from the north. They giggled and pointed.

"Bring food and drink!"

The auntie clapped her hands and several younger people ran off to do her bidding. Before long, the hut was filled with the smell of baked fish. Broneslav was passed a wooden cup of coconut milk.

"To a profitable trade for both of us!" the auntie announced, "Let me introduce myself formally now that we are about to begin. I am Chieftain Tiaru. To my right, you see the clan elders."

She pointed at each in turn, "This is Ruan, then Gak, then Yavi and finally Tomia. They are my advisors. Together we form the council that rules Tanaroa."

Broneslav made the formal introduction required of himself and Captain Decentius, even though he had informally introduced himself before. He was then encouraged to eat and drink. Watching how Tiaru and the elders did this, he did his best to copy them, hoping not to offend anyone. It appeared that he succeeded, because he soon found himself discussing trade with an open and welcoming Tiaru. After giving her and the elders small gifts from the cargo, the dickering began in earnest.

A couple of hours later, he gave the order to unload all the cargo. The villagers had agreed to pay almost double its value in gold and goods! Moreover, they were eager for him to bring more goods here. In return for hard to find iron and steel goods, they would harvest the local pearls and provide other goods that were only available here. A bargain was struck that Broneslav would ship in goods at regular intervals and Captain Decentius left with the elders to order and oversee the unloading and distribution of the cargo, while Broneslav and Tiaru relaxed in the hut and talked.

Wow, those were some good reaction rolls!

After a little idle small-talk, Broneslav was finally able to turn the conversation to what most interested him.

"One thing that I would like to know is about the city at the centre of the island. I came into possession of a map and description of this city that made me curious."

Tiaru looked at Broneslav thoughtfully.

"Do you mean the City of the Gods? There was a ship that arrived her not so long ago. The crew were not traders though and showed great interest in it."

"Yes, that's the one. The ship returned to Karameikos and I encountered the last survivor from that crew. He had been set upon by thugs and died of his injuries, but gifted me with a map and a description of his voyage here."

Tiaru told the tale then of how the Gods had built a great city at the centre of the island and furnished it with all a god could want. However, the island itself was inhabited by many dangerous creatures, which is why the Gods built a wall for the villagers, so that they could live safely in their home. When the Gods departed, the hostile creatures repopulated the whole island. Any journey to the city would be fraught with danger.

She looked doubtfully at the young warrior, "I fear for you if you insist on journeying to the City of the Gods. It is probable that you will not return."

"I would just like to investigate a bit. It will take my crew and your people a week to unload the cargo and load the goods from here. If it will not offend you, I shall head towards the city and see what I can find. It was my main purpose in coming here. My captain can deal with the essentials here while I am gone."

Tiaru acquiesced reluctantly.

"Great. I shall set off tomorrow and shall aim to return as quickly as I can."

24 Fyrmont 1000 AC - Landfall

 By midmorning, Broneslav's ship had manoeuvred into position near Tanaroa. There was no deepwater harbour there, so they moored away from land. Some curious villagers paddled their canoes out to see the newcomers and shouted greetings in strangely accented Common Tongue. They were not hostile. Instead they seemed pleased to have the opportunity to hear the news from further afield.

Broneslav was on the first boat off the ship to meet the locals. The land wobbled unfamiliarly under him as he stepped from the ship's boat onto the beach near the village. He wondered at the strange trees and unfamiliar vegetation, but tried not to look overawed by the novelty of this place.

His first impression was of an alien place. The long houses on stilts were like nothing he had ever seen before. The layout of the village with four areas of housing each surrounding a cemetery with a statue in the middle was new. The huge stone wall with the 70 feet high towers on it was new. Even the tar pits that formed a secondary line of defence behind the wall were things he had not encountered before in his short life. There was clearly something that the villagers needed to keep out, but the rest of the village was not in keeping with the 50 feet high wall. He knew that he needed to be on the other side of that wall. The letter and map he had received told him that. Well, he would try.

As his gaze swept across the village in its jungle clearing, he realised that the only familiar thing here was the pyramid in the centre of the fields. He had seen bigger and more impressive pyramids in Ylaruam, but none of those had a giant brass gong on top of them. Something was threatening this village and it came from the direction he intended to travel. Well, that meant he had a mission. But first he needed to speak to the headman of the village.

"Oh" he thought, "The village headwoman. Right. I guess they do things differently here."

Broneslav shook himself mentally and pulled himself together. The woman, who greeted him, reminded him of his aunt Grushenka, a woman with whom you did not mess if you did not wish to fall foul of the illumin-aunties. This informal group of woman were the power behind many thrones and could make a young person's life miserable if that young person were not careful. Broneslav himself had endured many probing questions about when he was going to make something of himself. Since his Shearing, they had largely left him alone, but he knew it would not be long before questions about suitable marriages and children were being asked.

He smiled in what he hoped was an endearing fashion and weathered the inevitable question.

"You're a bit young to be leading an expedition like this, aren't you, young man?"

The auntie was clearly taking no prisoners. Mind you, you did not get to be chief, even of a village, by being a wallflower.

"A young man has to try to make something of himself," he replied disarmingly, "I am accounted an adult in my country now, so I must act like one."

The auntie appraised him in a way that made him feel like a cut of meat at the butchers. Her eyes surveyed his broad shoulders and the well-used sword at his side. Even unarmoured, he carried himself more like a warrior than a merchant despite not being above average height and barely able to grow the moustache he aspired to. She also noted his youth. He could almost see the calculations going on behind her eyes.

Then she smiled.

"Very well. Let us see what you can do. Why are you here? And what do you have to trade? If you have anything worthwhile, we might be interested."

"My crew will bring samples ashore for you to view. I do not doubt that there will be much of interest, and I am sure that you will have much that I might be interested in. I hear that there are good sources of black pearls here."

The auntie's eyes narrowed. Perhaps it occurred to her that he was not entirely unprepared. Then she smiled broadly.

"Welcome to our village. Come! Let us get to know each other better. Trading always goes more smoothly once you know your partners."

Broneslav gave orders for a selection of goods to be offloaded and the crew jumped to.

The auntie led the way to a hut group where people were watching the newcomers. Broneslav and Captain Decentius followed her. Broneslav did not see it, but Theophilus Decentius stared appraisingly at Broneslav's back. Perhaps he was reassessing this green ship-owner's abilities in light of this interaction. Was the young man more than a spoilt rich kid with the money to buy his own ship after all? Time would tell.

13 Fyrmont to 23 Fyrmont 1000 AC - A Life on the Ocean Waves

13 Fyrmont

I have decided to keep a diary of the voyage to help me pass the time. The sailors do not need my help and the captain tells me that the owner's job is to look impressive. I fear I do not at the moment. The day has passed with what the sailors call a calm sea and fair weather. I feel so sick. Please kill me.

The Voyage of the Stout Meg

14 Fyrmont

Another fair day. I feel slightly better, I think. One of the sailors took pity on me and showed me a trick with bacon and a piece of string that really seems to work. Pulling the bacon back out of my stomach was disgusting though. I was distracted from feeling sick when a stirge flew out of some of the cargo. It was diving for one of the sailors when I leapt at it and cut it in two. The sailors were all grateful for my intervention. I shall have to have words with the cargo master and find out how it got in there. I wonder if anyone from the Veiled Society survived to try to disrupt my plans.

15 Fyrmont

Fair sailing. I can feel the air getting warmer as we sail south. I still feel a bit queasy but was not sick today.

16 Fyrmont

I feel better now and chose to wander the deck. The captain yelled at me to get out of the way.

17 Fyrmont

More fair sailing. I saw a sea snake today. It was not much bigger than me. The captain tells me they pose no threat to the ship or its crew, unless the crew fall in the water.

18 Fyrmont

Sailing is boring. There is nothing much to do when you own the ship, so I just tried to stand there looking impressive.

19 Fyrmont

Are we nearly there yet? The weather is lovely, but there is so little for me to do. The captain tells me that if all goes well, we should arrive at the Thaniegoth peninsula in four days.

20 Fyrmont

Three days to go. Fair sailing and nothing for me to do. Boring.

21 Fyrmont

Two days to go. We are nearly there. I cannot wait. Thank goodness I found the map so there is little chance of us losing our way.

22 Fyrmont

One day to go!

23 Fyrmont

About midday the crow's nest shouted, "Land ho!". We have reached the Thanegioth Archipelago. We must navigate the reefs in daylight and will land tomorrow morning. Who knew sailing was so boring?

16 Felmont to 12 Fyrmont 1000AC - The Taxman Cometh

 Buying and outfitting a ship was a somewhat detailed process and Broneslav almost regretted not chartering a vessel rather than buying one. In the end, he did manage to get a small trading ship, The Stout Meg, that was nearly new for 5000 Royals and a crew that would cost him 500 Royals per month for as long as he retained them. His goal was that the cargoes he planned to carry would pay for them, but first he had to get somewhere he could sell the cargo and buy a new one for the return journey.

Broneslav attempts to look like he fits in on a ship

Discussion with his family and their major domo showed that his planned voyage might need to make a detour to Ierendi or Minrothad rather than trading in the Thanegioth Archipelago itself. Ierendi always needed what Specularum had, so he invested 5000 Royals in cargo that should trade well there: iron and copper goods and a stock of fine leather items. For his first trading voyage, he was advised against travelling to Minrothad where they would likely make mincemeat of him, strip him of all his wealth by legal means and leave him in debt to one of the guilds.

Putting his expedition together took time, and the quarterly tax collection happened in the middle of it. As a law-abiding citizen, Broneslav had no choice but to reach into his purse and donate a portion of his treasure to the Duke. Hopefully, he would recoup that and more on this voyage and he had successfully managed to write off part of his tax burden by buying the ship and trade goods, so it did not hurt as much as it would otherwise. It was fortunate that he had the connections in Specularum to help him with sorting all this out.

By 12 Fyrmont, he was ready and over 16000 Royals poorer. Stores for a month were loaded, the cargo was onboard and the crew were all present. It was still summer and the voyage should be plain sailing, barring unexpected squalls. Big storms were not usual at this time of the year, or so the captain he had hired had informed him. So it was that on 12 Fyrmont on the rising tide and with a fair wind behind him, Broneslav set sail for the south. Milka, she of the snow white skin and rose red lips, waved him off and promised her eternal love and wept piteously that he should sail off into danger like this. Broneslav tried to ignore her pleading and tears. He suspected that his wealth and status after his Shearing played a large part in her interest, where previously she had shown little sign of attraction to him. It would be good to be free of her attentions for a while, he thought, as the ship sailed out of Specularum harbour and head south. They should reach their destination within two weeks, if all went smoothly.

As the wind blew through his hair and the deck rose and fell under him, Broneslav was very pleased with himself. He was setting out on a new adventure. He thanked the unknown mugging victim for this opportunity. Then he suddenly felt queasy. He lurched for the ship's rail as the crew laughed at the neophyte sailor's plight...

Notes

I'm going to deal with trading in the abstract here. I do not want to complicate the issue because that will get in the way of adventuring. Rather than buying specific cargoes, I shall spend an amount of money for the cargo and dice to see if Broneslav's purchases and attempts to sell it are wise.

When Broneslav gets to his destination, he will make two skill checks to sell his cargo. The first will be a Wisdom check to see if there is an opportunity to sell his wares (Has he been sensible in his purchases for his destination?). The second will be a Reaction check to see what profit, if any, he makes on the sale. In both cases, any eventual Merchant or similar skill will be used to modify the rolls. He can refuse the offered price if he thinks he can do better elsewhere but he cannot try to sell the same goods in the same area again before a full week has passed. I would quite like to subsume the whole test into a single roll, but I worry that Wisdom, Reaction and skill bonuses can quickly add up to always making a huge profit.

Although I am dealing with generic cargoes at this stage to save effort, I might introduce the trading rules from GAZ9 The Minrothad Guilds at a later stage if I feel like spending more time on trading and less on adventuring. Right now it would just get in the way of the real adventure.

To 15 Felmont 1000AC - Messing about in boats

 “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing–absolutely nothing–half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” (Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows)

Broneslav was tiring of the big city. Nearly a month had gone by since he had foiled the Veiled Society's plot. Some of that time was spent recovering, and much of it was spent avoiding Milka (she of the white skin and rose red lips). She had decided that he was very much the man for her now. Before the Shearing, Broneslav would have welcomed this change, but now he found himself less interested. The petty intrigues and relationships of the merchant houses that formed the core of her conversation were just not interesting enough to him. They were, no doubt, important within the sphere of the merchants of Specularum and would be useful to know if he chose to play politics here, but he was not interested in that right now. He needed to make his fortune first. He wanted and needed to go back out into the world. Therefore, he spent more time than his parents deemed necessary in the taverns of the docks listening to tales told by sailors newly returned from Ierendi or the Northern Reaches.

This was not just idle drinking, although he did make time for that too. He learned as he drank. It was clear that there was money to be made, although at some risk to his own personal fortune. But, as his father said: nothing ventured, nothing gained. His mind was made up. He would embark on the life of a merchant adventurer. There was gold to be earned and adventure to be had in this life. But first, another pint of ale.

Broneslav was slightly tipsy as he left the The Merman's Apology and headed towards home. The night was still light, the moon was full and the weather was clear. The few clouds he could see were just hanging around idly. They appeared to have no evil intent, such as raining on him. Reaching the turning towards his home, Broneslav heard a cry and a gurgle from a nearby alley. He recognised the sound of someone being stabbed and immediately ran towards to the noise.

Pitching into the alley, Broneslav saw two men standing over the bleeding body of a third. One of the men was leaning down to go through the clothes of the bleeding man.

"Quickly, Horatius, someone's coming!" hissed the first man.

"I'm going as fast as I can. The letters must be here somewhere. I heard him tell the barmaid that he never let them out of his sight," replied Horatius as he searched the body.

With a yell, Broneslav launched himself at the men. He was slightly drunk and armed only with his dagger, because his sword was peacebound, as was required by the law when in the city, but he had all the confidence of youth and enough experience to back it up under most circumstances. Well, so he thought, anyway.

He had not deceived himself. With just two blows of his mighty fists, he laid the robbers flat. He had not even needed to draw his dagger! The poor victim was not so lucky. A dagger in his back had ended his life. The robbers were clearly taking no chances with him. Broneslav tied them up and left them next to the body. He helped himself to the papers that the robbers had been after, and called the watch, who took the robbers away. Broneslav was by now well enough known that they did not simply assume he was the aggressor here.

A Treasure Map!

Notes on the Map

• Areas marked in black on the map are unmapped.
• Apart from those with unmapped areas, I have filled out the small islands in full.
• The darker areas in the sea are reefs.
• Only the south-east part of The Isle of Dread has been mapped in full. The rest of it is roughed in and will be developed later.

What Broneslav learned

Back at home, he read through what he had found. It told an interesting tale and one that piqued his interest. Better yet, there was an associated map. Broneslav read with interest a tale of a voyage to the Thanegioth Archipelago that had gone wrong. Most of the crew of the ship had died in storms and only a half dozen survived to return to Karameikos, their number now cut down further by the robbers.

The author told of tribes as yet uncontacted by those on the mainland. Some were friendly, others drove the author and his crew off with spears and bows. The author related how they had sailed around many small islands and found one large island. They had landed on a peninsula in a village called Tanaroa. A large stone wall divided this peninsula from the main island, which the locals called The Isle of Dread. The local name for the peninsula translated simply as Home. In their village there were statues made of gold and iron, but the locals used only stone tools.

The locals told of an ancient city at the centre of the main island, of great dangers and vast treasures, including a massive black pearl similar to those they traded for goods, but exceeding those in size by a great margin. It sounded like this island had once been the centre of a lost civilisation.

The author concluded with the remark that he would return to Karameikos and gather a group of adventurers to explore the island and recover the giant black pearl, and that he had managed to map the extremities of the island, but not its interior. Examining the map, Broneslav found this to be true.

"Well, the poor sailor will not benefit from his hard work any more, but this sounds exactly like the kind of thing that I have been looking for. I think I shall enjoy messing about in a boat for a while. Perhaps I can expand our trading routes to this area and recover the black pearl at the same time."

The next day, Broneslav headed back to the docks with his father's major domo to advise him about ships. He was looking forward to this voyage.

Afterword

Time to let Broneslav spread his wings further. I have a lot going on right now, so the plan is to post monthly on this adventure, because it will require updating the map as the adventure progresses and that can take time. Can he survive The Isle of Dread?

The map is made in Campaign Cartographer 3+ using the 'Ancient Realms 2025' style plus a few symbols from other packs. I really like this software, even though I do not use it to its full potential, and running these adventures is a great excuse to try to do more with it.

X1 The Isle of Dread is another classic Basic/Expert module. I received Basic and Expert D&D as presents one Christmas back in the Stone Age when I was still young and enthusiastic and unjaded by life. I ran B2 The Keep on the Borderlands as my first adventure ever and it is what got my brothers and me into RPGs. I cannot remember running X1 The Isle of Dread for them at all. We were at a stage where we flitted from game to game because it was all new and exciting, but I still remember it fondly, so this is another trip to nostalgia land for me.

4-11 Klarmont - The sweet smell of being crushed by predatory plants

 Broneslav leaves the room he was in and heads back to the corridor with the sweet smell coming from it. The smell gets stronger as he goes down the corridor and there is some vegetation or root matter on the walls that appears to glow faintly. The light gets stronger the further he goes down the passage. Suddenly, he realises that the vegetation has moved. The passage is blocked in both directions. As the roots swing closer to him, he swings, severing several (2 DAM), but it is not enough to stop the others closing fully on him. They begin to crush him (1 DAM). He cuts again but his movement is too restricted and the plant continues to squeeze (1 DAM). His next attempt is better and several of the squeezing roots are severed (2 DAM). This eases the pressure temporarily, but his desperate attempts to cut free are not yet enough and he feels a rib snap (1 DAM). The pressure continues and he starts to weaken badly as the roots crush the breath from him (6 DAM cumulative). Finally, he manages to get a better grip on his sword and slices hard. The roots fall away and he falls to the ground, his breath coming in tight painful gasps. The damn plant had nearly done for him where warriors and monsters had failed!

He binds up his wounds and heads back up the passage towards the meeting hall. It is now empty, and he is able to search the area. He finds two secret doors. One leads to the passage that Anton Radu had followed to his doom. The other leads to a cell where an elf is chained to the wall. The cell stinks and is unlit apart from the light from Broneslav's shield. The elf looks half dead, but his eyes open and blink hard in the light that Broneslav brings.

Broneslav quickly learns that this Elf is Estaish, a member of the Duke's Elvenguard and a witness to the evil perpetrated by the Veiled Society. With Broneslav's help, he is able to limp back to the room where Zweis Radu lies bound but no longer unconscious. There Estaish reclaims his gear before he and Broneslav make their way outside with Zweis as their prisoner. Battered and bruised, the pair take their captive to the nearest Watchhouse. The pair are soon telling their tale to a Tribune of the Watch, while Zweis looks on them with hatred in his eyes. Unfortunately, the testimony of a member of the Elvenguard and the papers that Broneslav has brought with him are more than enough to condemn anyone, even someone as wealthy as Zweis. The verdict is clear and is confirmed when watchmembers have searched the underground meeting room and its associated rooms.

Broneslav (Level 4)

Epilogue

A week later, most of the Veiled Society members have been arrested. Some escaped, but their power is broken and the most important members of the Society are dead or in irons. The court case will take a while, but there is little doubt that even the surviving members will soon face the headsman's axe. Moreover, the entire Radu family has been declared anathema for their leadership of the Veiled Society and their incitement of the riots in the city. Their wealth has been confiscated and those that could not be proven to be directly involved have been exiled with nothing more than the clothes on their backs.

A week later, Broneslav has recovered from his fight thanks to the ministrations of the family healers and a week of total rest. Milka, she of the white skin and rose red lips, has been round to see him several times, her eyes wide with wonder at the change wrought in him in just four months. It was clear that she believed he was now a man and not the boy she had challenged to take the Shearing Ceremony. Unfortunately for her, he had changed in other ways too, and the soft pleasures of her prattle were no longer for him. He had a goal in life now. He saw that he could make a difference and that his interest lay with those who sought to do likewise, rather than those who chattered about how the neighbours wore last year's fashion. And he was going for a drink with the Tribune of the Watch this evening. Who knew where that might lead?

Postscript

That's the end of B1-9 In Search of Adventure. I really thought the Sirenflower was going to do for him just as he had succeeded in taking down the Veiled Society! However, Broneslav got out of its clutches and saved the day. I can't believe it took me this long to get back to these adventures, but I just stumbled over a mapping issue and it stopped me in my tracks. I finally just ignored the issue, so the maps in the last few posts have not been precisely what I wanted but they are serviceable. Perfection is the enemy of done, as I am wont to say, and it is true.

So, where next for Broneslav? Answers on the back of a £10 note to the usual address please. I'm currently thinking of moving on to the X-series adventures with X1 The Isle of Dread being the first. I'll need to spend a bit of time putting together the maps for this, but it particularly appeals because I still have my original copy from when I first got D&D but I do not recall ever playing it. The other option is to head off to The Temple of Elemental Evil. I recently got the Goodman Games reprint of ToEE that comes as a 2-volume hardcover set in a slipcase with a reprint of the original adventure plus a 5th edition updated version. It is glorious and makes me want to run the whole thing, although I feel like it is a campaign that I should begin with a new character from level 1 so that I can experience it properly. We'll see which option I feel like, when I stop being swamped at work and have a brain to think with again.

4 Klarmont - The light at the end of the tunnel

 As Broneslav starts to open the door ahead of him, he hears footsteps rushing past. He pauses and lets the person get a short headstart before he carefully puts his head round the door to see what is going on. He sees the man with the wooden mask opening a secret door in the wall. Broneslav decides that he has a good chance here, so he quickly removes his robe so that he can move more freely, before stepping through to follow the man.

He hears loud voices raised beyond the secret door. As he reaches the door, there is a familiar strangled cry. Someone has just been stabbed! He draws his sword and pushes the door open hard. The scene that confronts him is a familiar one by now. A middle-aged man holds a sword to the chest of a younger man. The man with the wooden mask lies dead on the floor, his lifeblood pooling around him. Some of that blood is still on the middle-aged man's sword.

"Stop him!" the younger man yells, "He has killed our father!"

At this point, Broneslav realises that the man on the floor is Anton Radu, head of the Radu clan. That means that the other two must be Zweis (younger) and Cartha (middle-aged) if he remembered correctly.

"Put the sword down, Cartha," he ordered, "the jig is up."

"Pah," scoffed Cartha, "I'm done with your meddling in this. Your time is up, not mine!"

He swings his sword away from his younger brother and launches a frenzied assault on Broneslav. Cartha's sword cuts Broneslav (2 DAM) before he can react. Broneslav returns the favour with a long cut down Cartha's arm (2 DAM). Zweis takes this opportunity to try to stab his brother in the back, but is knocked back. With a swift stab, Cartha slices a gash in Broneslav's leg (2 DAM). This is enough to put Broneslav off, and his next blow goes wide. Cartha uses this opportunity to slice another chunk of flesh from Broneslav (2 DAM), while fending off yet another attempt at fratricide by his brother. The three then settle into a series of attacks and ripostes that are easily blocked, before Broneslav finally gets through Cartha's defences again (2 DAM). This is enough to slow Cartha down, but not enough to put him down. Meanwhile, he is easily able to fend off Zweis' attacks until Zweis lands a lucky blow (1 DAM) that is quickly followed by another lucky blow (1 DAM). Cartha falls lifeless over the body of the father he had murdered.

Breathing hard, Broneslav eyes Zweis, wondering if this brother will now turn on him.

"So," says Zweis, "thank you for helping me out of a sticky situation. Family is absolutely the worst, dontcha know. I'm guessing you know about the Veiled Society, what with being here and all. What I'm wondering is if you could see your way to joing us. With my brother and my father out of the way, there are several opportunities available within our command structure. As a scion of a merchant family (Yes, I recognise you, Torenescu) I'm sure you can see the advantages for both of us. What say you?"

"Yeah," replies Broneslav, "That's not going to happen. I see you for who you are."

Zweis looks disappointed.

"Well, how about I give you this box of gems, and you walk away from here?"

"Nope, I have all the wealth I need. Now, put down your sword and come peaceably to the guard with me."

Zweis looks defeated. He hunches his shoulders slightly and begins to crouch. Then he launches an attack. Broneslav is not caught out at all. He hammers Zweis on the side of the head (2 DAM) and steps easily to the side, to avoid Zweis' attack. A follow-up blow with the pommel of his sword smashes the young man to the ground unconscious. Broneslav checks he is ok and then ties him up. No point in taking chances.

When he searches the room, he finds papers detailing the Veiled Society's doings and their contacts. Looking at some of the names, he realises that this will rock the upper echelons of Specularum society. He also knows it could have been much worse if the Veiled Society had spread its tentacles further afield.

Further searching of the room nets the box of gems that Zweis had promised as a bribe. Cartha's and Zweis's swords are both good quality, so he takes those and a fancy ring that Cartha is wearing. Furthermore, there is a pack containing a mail shirt, sword and bow). These do not look like the sort of gear that the Radu family leaders would wear, so it suggests that someone else has been taken by them.

Deciding that he needs to see if this person is still alive, Broneslav makes sure that Zweis is properly secured and sets off to search the rest of the tunnels.

4 Klarmont - All robed up and nowhere to go

 After stuffing the unconscious men into the cupboard, Broneslav took robes and a hood and put them on. It seemed reasonable to him that anyone coming through here was probably part of the group he was after, and that he would gain the element of surprise by wearing the clothes they expected people to see others in.

The question, though, was where next? The door he had just come through would not open again, and there seemed little reason for anyone to return to the mead hall wearing the robes, so that meant there must be another way out of here. He searched carefully, noting dirt and scuff marks on the floor leading under the wall opposite the way he had come in. It did not take too long to find a way to open a secret door in that wall. Beyond was a tunnel under the houses beside the mead hall.

"These people must really like tunneling!" he mused as he reached a junction. From ahead, he could hear faint voices. The passage to his left was apparently silent. Now, why would there be another tunnel here? And should he find out or should he see what was up with the voices ahead? Broneslav mentally flipped a coin, and followed the passage ahead of him towards the voices.

As he reached the end of the passage, it opened into a larger chamber with a couple of dozen people dressed in red robes and black hoods in it. Broneslav stayed back in the darkness of the passage and watched. A man in a red and gold robe was standing on a dais at one end of the room. Unlike the others, he was wearing a wooden mask instead of a hood. His voice echoed hollowly out of the mask.

"Now is our time! We shall take back the city from the traitors while they are still reeling from our campaign against them. The people will side with us because they know we are right! Our enemies will be crushed and the Duke will be forced to kneel before us. Those who oppose us are weak. Those who betray us are traitors. Like that one!"

The man in the mask pointed to one of the assembled people.

"That one must die for disobeying our orders!"

With that, the crowd of robed people fell on the unfortunate individual. Distracted by their brutal death, Broneslav did not see the man in the wooden mask leave the room. There must have been a secret door behind him, but Broneslav was not about to try to fight his way through twenty people to find out. Well, nineteen now, but the point still stood.

He backed off down the tunnel and decided to try the other branch. It ended at a door with a tunnel off to his left. A sweet, sandalwood smell drifted down the corridor to his left and he felt a strong desire to head down there. He tried the door. It opened easily and he went through.

4 Klarmont - The Blue Water Mead Hall

 Leaving Simion at the senator's, Broneslav headed home to clean up. After that, he decided to follow up the lead that the orator had given him. Also, the fighting had given him a thirst. A flagon of mead would not go amiss and the man had said there was due to be a meeting, so he really felt like dropping in there.

The streets were full of unrest as he worked his way back towards the docks but he managed to dodge trouble along the way. Barely, at one point, as a riot broke out, but nipping down an alleyway and onto the next street along did the trick. As he pushed open the door of the shack that was the Blue Water Mead Hall, he actually really needed that drink.

He sat at a free space in the corner and looked the place over. It was dark, with half a dozen common tables and benches for the patrons. No booths or cushions in here, and the floor was covered in sawdust.  There was no bar in the main room. The tavernkeeper ducked through a curtain at the back of the place to fetch beer through from another room. There did not seem to be food on offer here. The place was moderately full with dock workers and sailors, by the looks of them.

The beer that the tavernkeeper brought Broneslav was thin and not particularly tasty. He sipped it and watched the tavernkeeper duck in and out of the back room. There was another curtain next to it, and it was a long while before he say anyone go through that one. The man looked much like the other patrons here, but there was a sense of purpose in the way he ducked through the curtain. Broneslav waited but the man never returned. In the meantime, another man disappeared through the curtain.

It was time to find out what was going on here. Broneslav slipped quietly through the curtain just behind the other man. He opened the door and entered a short hall with a stable door at the other end. The top half was open and two people in robes were lounging beside it. A section of the wall to his right was just closing as he stepped into the hall.

"Ish thish th'way tuh th' toilet?" Broneslav slurred as he staggered a bit towards them.

"Straight through the door there," replied one of the people. A local by his tone.

"Whu? Thish way?"

Broneslav staggered over towards the open door. The men sneered at him and stepped aside to let him through. As he got level with them, he erupted into action, slamming one man's head against the wall and punching the other in the gut. Neither man had a chance to react before they were unconscious on the floor. He did not kill them because he was not sure if they were 'innocent' bouncers or in on the secret.

A quick search found a secret door in the hallway leading to a room barely big enough for more than a couple of people. Broneslav opened it and dragged the unconscious men through. Within the room was a cupboard and a bench. Within the cupboard, he found red robes with black leather hoods hung up. This appeared to be a robing room of some sort and there was no obvious way out. Nevertheless, he closed the door behind him, bound and gagged the men and stuffed them in the cupboard. He could release them when he returned or one of The Veiled Society members would if he failed here. They would be stiff and sore, but at least they would be alive.

I can't believe how long it has taken me to get back to this. I got hung up on mapping one of the rooms in this section of the adventure, and it killed my flow. Ah well, back to it, eh? After all, Broneslav is nearly at the end of this story arc.