The Story of Grapegrove The Story of Grapegrove
ear Sodalis,
In recognition of your help with my Saga problem (the mage-murdering companion), I thought I'd record some events of the saga. Alas, the saga was aborted with a Wizards' March against the Grapegrove covenant; however, before that quite a few interesting events took place...
Converting game notes to something resemblant of English prose is a timeconsuming task, and I have little time to spare, so only a fraction of the notes have been converted yet; I hope to complete the task someday, and polish the wordings a bit.
Note: Time seems to be scarcer than creo vis. Don't expect additions to this page for quite some time - like, say, four years.
Now, bear in mind:
Would you like to see the maps of the Monastery island of St. Bartolomeo (scanned map sketchs)? Note that the map texts are in Finnish, so the maps may be hard to understand if you don't understand Finnish.
he Grape Grove
(see below) covenant is located in an abandoned old castle built in a
clearing with a small lake in the middle of a faerie forest.
When the castle was originally built, its lord was on friendly terms with the faeries, and there was a long time of peace in the region, for no one dared to risk their armies in the enchanted woods. But then the lord died, and his son, schooled in a monastery and deeply religious, became master of the castle. To him faeries were unGodly abominations, and he strengthened his castle's ramparts and gates with cold iron, thus declaring war on the Fay. For several seasons the forest became deadly for a mortal man to cross. Then all news from the castle ceased. After a while, a knight was sent to investigate. He found the castle empty. There were signs of battle on the grounds - broken spears, shattered swords - but no blood. Until now, no one has dared to risk the wrath of the Fay by inhabiting the castle.
Before he was apprenticed by his parens, one of the magi - Noblemos Problemos - was the son and sole heir of a grape farmer with large fields in the area, and knew of the castle because of old wives' tales. When he returned to the area to found a covenant with his comrades, he also found out that his father had recently passed away, and the local priest was, in the absence of an heir, appropriating the holdings for the church. The magus stepped in and claimed his heritage, thereby greatly upsetting the priest, and also the local merchant family who did not appreciate the competition the covenant obviously was going to provide in the wine market. And so the covenant had even as it was founded made enemies of two of the most influential forces in the local village, thereby effectively gaining the enmity of the village as a whole.
But there were positive things, as well. Noblemos' old boyhood friend had joined the Forestedge monastery not far from the covenant, and could prove to be a valuable ally. Especially as there were rumors that the warm spring within the walls of the monastery had mystical healing powers...
The castle proved to be in a state of abysmal disrepair, but before even considering such mundane issues the mages searched for possible magical resources in the area. And they did find something; a hidden path leading to large cave. The cave was otherwise ordinary, but its walls were covered with strange formations that, when you looked at them just right, resembled human faces. As one of the grogs taken along for the investigation brought his torch near such a formation, he noticed that when the rock was touched by the flame two drops of a clear crystalline liquid flowed out of the rock, approximately where the "eyes" would have been... The drops were found out to contain Terram vis, and 10 pawns could be extracted per year. This was found out the hard way - one of the formations was heated excessively to obtain more. First, it dried up. Then, when the heat was increased, the "eyes" slowly closed, and no amount of manipulation, heating or otherwise, ever coaxed it to open them or to provide vis again.
Shortly after the covenant was formed, a giant man called Kormilius Cruelius appeared at the gates and claimed that he sought employment. He demonstrated considerable combat skills and was soon awarded the position of turb captain.
he first
important mundane contact happened a few months after founding the
covenant. Mats von Leibmilch, a vassal of Baron Ferdinand, appeared at
the covenant gates with his retinue. His message was simple: "You are
living at the baron's lands; pay up or leave.", although conveyed in
somewhat more diplomatical terms. Not possessing enough money at the
moment, the mages sought a compromise, and were eventually able to reach
one. The Baron was not unhappy to have a group of magi at his call in
case of need, so it was decreed that the Baron could call upon the
covenant once a year for a service. As the position the Quaesitori would
take on this was doubtful, it was agreed to keep the pact a secret - not
that the Baron would want to publicly connect his name with witchcraft
and sorcery anyhow.
For this year's service von Leibmilch requested that the mages investigate recent strange happenings at the Monastery of St. Bartolomeo. People had been disappearing, unholy events had been witnessed, and a few days ago the monks and nuns had fled the island on which the monastery was located. The mages agreed, and started off the very next day.
The first day's travel was uneventful, but on the second day they encountered a knight who was most haughty and impolite to strangers on foot. As the mages were travelling with a large contingent of grogs, they considered this to be uncalled for, and answered in kind. The knight, greatly perturbed, threw some hollow threats but was finally forced to retreat. However, on the following evening, he reappeared, this time with a force of men he had apparently conscripted from nearby villages. A short but vicious battle was fought, the knight being among the first to fall to the death-spells of the mages. Some of his men fought bravely, others tried to escape - none survived. The bodies of the footmen were incinerated, and the knight, slain by a bolt of lightning, was left inside his partly melted armor. To explain for his demise, one of the mages summoned a thunderstorm, and amid sleeting rain and flashes of lightning the group continued on its way.
Next morning they arrived at Fort Ferdinand, a small but bustling city centered on the castle of Baron Ferdinand. The mages went to see the Baron, who gave them further instructions as to the location of the monastery, and provided them with a ferry to take them along the nearby river to the lake where the Island of St. Bartolomeo was located. The mages also visited - incognito, of course - the monks who had fled the island. Their investigations did not add much, merely named the ones who had disappeared. However, when the mages revealed that they were going to visit the island, one old and slighly senile monk called Kerb insisted that he follow them, for he was a great authority on the banishment of evil powers. Upon this proclamation his fellow monks sniggered openly, but none said anything. The magi decided that he was better than nothing, and so Kerb joined the group, much to the amusement of his former comrades.
The trip along the river was short and uneventful, and soon they arrived at their destination. The atmosphere on the island was oppressive and rank of evil, and it took no great amount of intelligence to deduce that infernal powers were indeed at work here. Only in the great church in the middle of the island and in the monastery chapels was there peace to be found.
To tell in detail of all the events of what happened on that accursed island would take too long; let it only be said that on the first night the mages found that Ursula, one of the nuns of the monastery, had turned to diabolism. During the next two hellish nights they fought off all manners of infernal beasts and monsters, and finally succeeded in destroying Ursula and the demons she commanded, much to the dismay of Noblemos who had been trying to court her. However, they also found out that the ultimate source of her power was a strange stone, larger than a man, situated in a clearing in a forest on the island. In their attempts to destroy the stone they instead released the ancient and powerful demon bound within it. Hungry after all these years of imprisonment, the demon attacked immediately. The mages fled, leaving the grogs to be devoured. They regrouped elsewhere on the island and drew a protective ward against demons around themselves. Sadly, the demon's might was too great; it ignored the ward as it were indeed no more than a line in the sand, and grabbed the unfortunate Kerb who was one of those covering within, decapitating him with one monstrous bite. Now one the mages' companions gathered courage, leaped forward and struck the demon with his sword, blessed and anointed with holy water. The demon who had ignored the feeble attack screamed in pain as it was struck with the blessed weapon, dropped the grisly remains of the friar and turned on the companion. He turned and fled, drawing the demon after him, so giving the others time to escape. They fled to the ferry and waited. After a while, the demon appeared, striding unhurriedly towards them, grinning viciously. Of their companion there was no sign, then or ever. They rowed over the lake, but the demon walked on water as on fast ground, following them easily. But it seemed to be in no hurry, and did not gain on them. So they fled along the river to the city, and at some point the demon disappeared, seemingly giving up on the chase.
When they arrived at Fort Ferdinand the mages went to the Baron, reporting that "The evil forces are no longer on the island; however, there is this demon who is now following us... You wouldn't have any horses to spare, now would you? We wouldn't want to fight him here,". The Baron most graciously granted this reasonable request, and with commendable speed the mages and their much diminished entourage was equipped with horses and an escort that was most insistent that they travel as fast and far as possible. So they started on the long trip back to their covenant, constantly looking over their sholders. They saw nothing.
When the mages arrived at the covenant, thay were greeted by a number of covenfolk, among which were several wives and girlfriends of the grogs they had taken with them. When the covenfolk saw how few had returned their joy turned quickly to cries of mourning. One particularly desolate woman even attacked Zhadam with her fists, blaming him (quite rightfully, remember) for the death of her husband - his shield grog. The grog sergeant quickly pulled her away, unheedful of her kicking and screaming. Zhadam held a calming speech, praising the bravery of the fallen grogs, and claiming that he had stood by them to the last. He also promised that the wives and children of the dead would be taken care of. This stilled some of the anger that was in the air, and even the woman who had attacked him ceased her accusations and started to sob quietly. Slowly the people started to make their way back inside.
oon life
returned to almost normal. After the mages had arrived at the covenant
they were at first worried and on a constant lookout for the demon;
however, as time passed by, they slowly relaxed. The turb captain,
Cruelius, in particlular felt that things were becoming boring, and one
evening he gathered a handful of men and went to the nearby (as yet only
slightly unfriendly) village, "to have some fun". The tavernkeeper was
not happy to see them, but kept the drinks coming, especially after some
of his furniture was subjected to sword blows as an "object lesson". The
men's disappearance was soon noticed, however, and Jobin Huppu cast the
Image of the Wizard Torn, sending his double to the village. It was not
hard to find the captain and his group; half the village was gathered
outside the tavern, wielding sharp farming instruments and the
occasional pike. Huppu berated his men, punished the captain by
confiscating his sword for a week (because of his obsession this was a
harsh punishment) and paid for the damages. However, the villagers were
not so easily appeased. Finally Huppu promised them that the offenders
would work on their fields for a week in as an additional punishment.
The captain protested loudly, but the villagers were somewhat mollified.
Before they could make up their minds, Huppu led his men out of the
village and back to the covenant.
The next day the men were indeed put to work on the fields. However, the captain flatly refused to do anything but oversee the work of the other men. Towards the end of the day another angry mob had gathered near the place the men were working at. At this point Huppu declared that as the villagers were clearly mostly angered by the captain, he would allow anyone of them to challenge him in a contest, armed or unarmed. The villagers looked at the 500 lbs nine feet tall mountain of flesh. None volunteered. So Huppu declared that any three could challenge simultaneously. After a long while, three muscular men stepped and/or were pushed forward, one of whom was so big he was only a foot shorter than Cruelius. The following match was short and brutal - among other things, Cruelius threw one of his opponents on the watching crowd so that he landed on a pitchfork one of the onlookers was holding and was heavily albeit not mortally wounded. Shortly after that, the remaining two yielded. Huppu declared that he considered the affair to be over, gathered his men and marched to the covenant, followed by the hateful stares of the villagers. Cruelius was not entirely satisfied, however; he ordered one of the less known covenfolk to move in the village and give him weekly reports of the local happenings at Sunday midnight by the Hangman's Oak.
The incident was still in fresh memory as the covenant's guards reported that two men were approching, one looking mostly like a monk and another dressed in light leather armor and wearing a short sword. Best to be careful but friendly, the mages thought and sent a detachment of grogs to meet the strangers. However, this aroused the interest of the faerie living within the covenant walls, and he run quickly to get to the newcomers before the grogs. He was successful, and cast upon himself a glamour that made him look like a wandering friar.
As he approached the strangers they hailed him, and asked him where he was heading. The faerie then got a wonderful idea, and claimed that he was on his way to the church to pray for the poor souls inside the castle walls, ravaged by the Plague. The strangers were disbelieving at first, but changed their mind quickly when the faerie showed his hand, on which was a glamour so that it appeared to be in state of putrefaction. The man in leather armor was agitated and wanted to leave without further ado, but the other one, who was clearly the one in charge, decided that he wanted to see this for himself. The faerie, enamored by this new game, tried to convince them by increasingly horrifying tales of the fate of the covenant. Before long, however, he heard the sounds of the approaching grogs, and had to quickly make his excuses, and leave. Once out of sight, he dodged inside the woods and sneaked back, spying on the strangers and the approaching grogs.
The grog sergeant identified himself, hailed the strangers, and asked them who they were. The man in the monks robe told that he was Sunam Suoniur, a mage of the covenant of Palisad, and that he wanted to visit the covenant. However, he had heard that the Plague was within the coveanant walls. The sergeant denied this empathically, but could not explain the tale of the monk Sunam had just met. The sergeant suggested that the monk was possibly deranged, and offered escort for the rest of the way to the covenant, which Sunam graciously accepted, much to the consternation of his comrade. The sergeant then sent one of the grogs to report to the covenant so that a suitable welcome might be arranged.
Seeing this, the faerie got another marvellous idea. He again quickly run to the covenant, arriving several minutes before the grog, and cast on himself a glamour so that he seemed exactly like that grog. He then went to turb captain and gave the report the original grog was supposed to give; however, he also added that Sunam and his companion apparently had the Plague. The reaction to this is not hard to imagine. Then he left.
The already somewhat chaotic situation at the covenant was not improved when the *real* grog arrived, gave his message and, upon questioning, insisted that the visitors did not appear to bear the Plague. However, they had asked questions about it...
When the guests of honor finally appeared with their escort, the reception was perhaps less gracious than they had hoped - the first thing that happened was a thorough interrogation as to whether or not they carried the Plague. No one was especially amused, except the faerie, who laughed himself silly in his hideout.
At this point the Zhadam requested that the turb captain escort them to the covenant meeting room. Cruelius promptly appeared, and was instantly recognized (he did have a rather singular body structure) by Sunam as their renegade grog. Sunam became furious and demanded to know why the mages were harbouring this fugitive who had murdered one of his sodalis. The mages claimed (quite truthfully) that they were ignorant of the charge. This calmed Sunam slightly, but his tone was less than polite when he demanded that the covenant should immediately hand Cruelius over to him for justice. The mages, however, were unwilling to hand their captain over - it was unlikely that they would ever gain another warrior as good. When Sunam seemed to start frothing at the mouth, they suggested that they would give Cruelius up for the amount of vis he was likely to help them gather (by killing magical beasts and the like) in his lifetime. This did not improve Sunams temper markedly. After much quite offending screaming and ranting he declared that he would take the matter to the Tribunal. Zhadam (as the covenant leader) suggested that perhaps there was still room for negotiation - shouldn't he confer with his sodalis first? Sunam agreed with ill grace, and Zhadam wrote a letter for him to take with him to his comrades. It was agreed that they would send the answer by messenger in two weeks time. Then Sunam turned on his heels, figuratively speaking, and left. Once outside the covenant he was observed to cast some spell and he and his companion disappeared from sight.
Not knowing about Sunam's disappearance, "The Nameless One" who was at loathe to give up their captain called upon a sergeant and told him to get ten men and ambush the impolite mage on his way home. At the same time, Noblemos Problemos who had been greatly offended by the impolite behaviour of the visiting mage called upon Cruelius and gave him similar orders. Cruelius was understandably enough not averse to the plan, and had in fact planned on doing it anyway. When he was on his way to gather the men he met the sergeant who was on his way with *his* men. Cruelius questioned the sergeant and after a while they had sorted things out and went away together, and with them went over half of the covenant's fighting force, including all its archers. Most of them where dressed in peasant outfits.
The ambush party positioned itself around the road on a spot shortly before it left the forest. Two scouts were placed somewhat further in the forest so that they could report when the targets appeared. Soon enough the scouts did indeed report sounds of two people approaching. However, there was nothing to be seen. Cruelius, wise to the ways of the mages because of his earlier job, realised that his quarry was invisible. He quickly ordered his archers to fire *along* to the road instead of across it, and in a covering pattern. The archers were bevildered but obeyed. Cruelius himself drew his bow and prepared.
"FIRE!"
Ten arrows sped towards a seemingly empty path. However, one of them hit something solid, and a scream of agony echoed in the forest. The arrow had stopped in midair and waved about.
"CHARGE!"
A dozen of men leaped from the forest on the road and run towards the floating arrow. A deep voice sang from somewhere ahead of them, and the first ten fell victims to a deep pit that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
But by now the archers had had time to reload, and their target was much easier this time...
Of the deadly arrows that rained upon the magus and his companion, only a few struck. But they were enough. Two soft thuds were heard, and the ambushers saw the shapes of corpses their victims, pierced by arrows, slowly start to materialize on the road. The bodies were quickly ransacked. The magus had with him a money purse, pouches with strange ingredients, an intricately carved amulet in a chain around his neck and a small black ring, like charred metal, on his left index finger. His companion carried a short sword and some money, nothing else. Cruelius took the ring and the amulet and discarded the rest. Then the bodies were carried to a hay barn near the village, and the barn was set to fire. Cruelius set on his return trip, examining the ring and the amulet. Soon, however, he was beset by doubt. The amulet seemed easy to recognize - not a good thing to have around if someone got suspicious. He made his decision and took a quick detour through the village, leaving the amulet on the steps of the church, and returned home with the satisfaction of a job well done.
The sergeant acting on the orders of "The Nameless One" was in for a shock, however. He gave his report, but instead of praise, the mage acted with mock outrage: "What! You have assassinated a magus! A crime of the most heinous sort! Captain! Lock this insane murderer up!"
Zhadam, the covenant leader, was blissfully ignorant of all this, however - he serenely awaited a letter that would let him open up negotiations with their neighbouring covenant. No one thought it appropriate to notify him, either.
s summer came
close to its end, the time neared for the covenant to make the annual
trip to Fort Ferdinand to sell the barrels of fine wine that had
fermented over the last year. And as the road to Fort Ferdinand went
through a number of smaller towns and villages, they were also going to
try to recruit some grogs to make up for those lost to the jaws of the
demon Dur. A wagon was loaded with the barrels, and Zhadam, "The
Nameless One", Noblemos Problemos and group of ten grogs went off.
Noblemos rode, the other two mages sat on the wagon, and the grogs
walked beside them. The first day's travel was uneventful. They spent
the night in an inn in small village, but there were no swords for hire
to be found in such a small community. After another day's travel, in
the next village, however, they had more luck. They found several men
willing to join them. Of these one had even previous experience in
fighting; he had partaken few years ago in small skirmish as a part of
the local Baron's troops. They accepted all, provisionally, promising
them half pay until they had proven their worth. "The Nameless One"
started on his private agenda in this town. He announced that he was
seeking a latin-speaking individual who had basic scribing skills, and
preferably no family ties. Good career opportunities etc. He was out of
luck, however - no one came forward.
The next evening they were not able to reach a village before nightfall. The first camping spot they found was full of small mounds. The mages decided that they did wish to share their beds with moles, and traveled a bit further. Soon they came upon a seemingly flawless place for encampment, and tents were quickly put up. The night was initially peaceful, but sometime after midnight a grog screamed inside the men's tent, held his ankle and stared at a sinuous scaly form slithering away. Cruelius awoke also, saw the snake and sliced it in several parts with one lethal stroke of his sword. The grog, however, was quickly becoming feverish and complained of ever-increasing thirst. Zhadam, who's ability to spontaneosly to cast almost any spell by deep concentration had stood them in good stead before, came to the rescue again. He closed his eyes, laid his hand on the pulsing wound and started slowly to weave his words into the spell. Gradually, as the spell gathered strength, the wound started to ooze a black, viscous liquid, drawing the poison from the body and spewing it out. Finally the flow stopped and only a few drops of unpolluted blood trickled forth. The grog was still feverish, but he would live. Zhadam was exhausted. He wiped sweat from his forehead and relaxed, trying to regain his breath. The grogs looked at him with a respect that had been missing ever since they came back from that fateful trip to the cursed monastery.
The next day's travel was again uneventful, although the number of other people on the road increased. In the evening they arrived at a small town - the last stop before Fort Ferdinand. Cruelius and Nameless started to make enquiries again. Cruelius gained a few grog candidates, without battle experience, however. Nameless had more luck. A young man asked about the job, explaining that he had lived at a monastery for a long time, trying to become a monk. The harsh life had not agreed with him, however, and he had left just before he was to take his wows. But it had not all been for nothing; he had learned to speak and write some latin. Nameless asked him about his family ties, and the man explained that his parents had died when he was young, which was the reason he had been sent to the monastery. He also said he was unmarried - after the long monkish life women seemed strange to him.
Nameless was well pleased, and agreed that he would hire the man. He explained that he was on the errand of the bishop: a local priest was suspected of teaching unorthodox beliefs. So he wanted that the man would seek employment at the church and report to him any untoward behaviour from the priest.
The man was a bit skeptic; Nameless did certainly not look like your ordinary messenger from the bishop. He inquired if Nameless had a missive from the bishop to prove himself. "Naturally. Wait a moment, I will fetch it.", Nameless answered.
In the next room he hastily scribed a letter, waited for the ink to dry and cast a little spontaneous Creo Imagonem magic to create a suitably impressive sigil with a religious inscription. Then he returned and presented the letter, not giving it over, however. The would-be hireling examined the letter carefully, was satisfied that the sigil looked impressive enough (he had never seen an authentic one) and accepted the task. Nameless provided him with a two-man escort who would accompany him to the outskirts of the village; then he would be on his own. When the man tactfully inquired about the pay, Nameless answered that when he had gathered enough evidence to prove the priest's guilt, he would become the new priest, with taxation rights in a wealthy wine-producing area. The man considered for a moment, then agreed. Nameless smiled. Nothing like a little job motivation.
The last day of the journey was uneventful, and in the evening they arrived at Fort Ferdinand. They did not immediately enter the city, however, but camped just outside it. Cruelius took the first watch - until midnight.
At the end of the watch Cruelius heard something from the back at the camp, and stalked (as well as that is possible for a man only slightly smaller than a warhorse) around the camp. The moonlight gave away an uninvited visitor who was crawling in a ditch near the camp. Cruelius attempted to sneak up upon him, but unsurprisingly this failed and the man bolted away. Cruelius was able to catch up with him, however, and attempted to trip him by slapping his feet away with the flat of his blade. He failed quite horribly, at least as far as his now footless victim was concerned. Cruelius was mightily annoyed because his tunic and trousers got thoroughly soaked as the man thrashed around, but put a strangle binding on the man's feet so that he might stay alive long enough for questioning.
"Did someone send you?"
The man was silent, obviously still able to answer but not willing. Cruelius twisted his feet a bit.
"Nooooggggrrrllll...", answered the man, and died.
Cruelius shrugged, looted the man's pockets which yielded a few pieces of silver and a set of lockpicks, and decided that the report could wait until morning. He then went to awake the next sentry and gave him as an additional task the washing of the clothes.
Next morning the mages received the report, and berated Cruelius for acting too hurriedly - the man should have been properly interrogated. Cruelius took this in stride. Then the group approached the city gate. Just before arriving, Zhadam cast a spontaneous muto Aquam spell and changed wine to water in all the barrels but two. At the toll gate they then declared that they were going to sell two barrels of wine and a dozen water barrels. The guards inspected the load, shook their heads, and levied the toll for the two barrels of wine. The sorcerous smugglers entered the town and started to search for an inn where they could establish their headquarters (Usually the vineyard had sold most of it's products to the castle, but as there might be records that would say that they had only brought in two barrels to the town they decided that it would not be prudent to sell to any officials). After a short search they decided on a small place near the market square. They checked in, and spent the rest of the two hours it would take for the water to turn back in to wine in the tavern. Then they rented a spot on the market square, set up their wagon and started selling. They had sold about half their wares (the wine was quite excellent) when a finely dressed man, which Noblemos recognized as the castle vintner from the old days before his apprenticeship, approached them. Noblemos quickly moved to greet him before he could espy the contents of the wagon. The man looked at Noblemos for a moment, and then smiled in recognition. "Noblemos! So you have taken up your father's business. Congratulations! But I understand you only brought in two barrels to the town - have you had problems?"
Noblemos cursed beneath his breath, and formed a sad smile. "Yes, we had a bad year, almost the whole harvest was lost."
The vintner looked at the last customer who was carting away two barrels. "And it seems you have already sold those two barrels. A pity. My lord enjoys your fine wine so, and we are almost out. But I guess it cannot be helped. Good day."
"Good day to you, sir." Noblemos cursed for a long while and with great imagination, and then organized the moving of their wagon to a shadier part of the town where they could sell the rest of their wares with little risk of being spotted by any law-abiding members of the society. Of course, they would get a lesser price here.
When the wine had finally been disposed of the mages were decidedly affluent and decided to continue their recruiting. Street urchins were hired to spread the word that professional fighters were wanted. After a while heavy-built men with mean looks and forceful demeanors started to appear at the tavern door. Many were hired (and those who had been provisionally hired earlier were summarily dismissed, much to their consternation). Around mid-afternoon a different kind of figure appeared - he was dressed in a green tunic and tights, had a small cap with a bright feather on top and wore a short sword on his belt and a long bow over his right shoulder and moved with dancing steps. In a high voice he declared: "Hello, dear fellows. I am Simon Bartlett, and I hear that you are looking for able fighters. Search no more; for my hand is swift and my aim is sure. A finer archer than I you will not find in the whole county." (If you havent understood it by now, think Robin Hood with a sexual deviation)
The mages looked at each other. Noblemos said no, but others thought Simon might be useful. They needed archers. And so he joined the ranks.
When the sun was setting the mages ceased to accept hirelings and started on their supper, ordering a couple of grogs to guard their peace. In the midst of their meal the tavern door was suddenly flung open by a large man wielding a heavy battle axe who stepped towards the mages and threw the objecting grogs aside. "I hear you hire warriors. I one."
Zhadam looked at his sodalis and grinned. "Duh."
Noblemos explained in no uncertain terms to the man that he was interrupting their meal and that that was generally not a good idea. Come back tomorrow.
The man was not impressed. "Arnold is strong. Watch!" With a lightning strike he cleaved the mage's table in two, then proceeded to cut it in small parts.
Sadly, the rest is still in note form, and in Finnish.
- comments?