The Life and Times of

Kendrick Franklinson

Excerpts from

The Collected Letters of Kendrick Franklinson :

A Journey into Bygone Days

by T.H.Winslow

as discovered in the Imperial Archives,

City-State of Aracho, Dominion of Timoro

"About Kendrick"

An interview with an elderly elven women, who desires anonymity but claims to have known him:

Kendrick hales from the Timro Region of the Eastern lands. He was raised on his father's farm at the edge of the wilderness. His father was once an adventurer, who had traveled to many of the far-flung parts of the land, but returned home when he found a wife in the West.

Farm life has made Kendrick into a strong, healthy young man. He is 6 feet tall with broad shoulders and a slender waist, even though he packs away food like a horse. He has long, straight red hair pulled back in a pony tail and tied with a thong. He has no visible facial hair, though his cheeks are spotted with freckles and his teeth are a bit large for his mouth. He has obviously gotten sun for most of his life, as his skin is starting to weather a bit despite his young age. The years of farm work show in hands that are thick-skinned with nails often broken or worn down.

When relaxed, his face falls naturally into an unassuming grin, and his Western is accented with his native tongue. In battle, he fights with a straight-ahead almost lumberjack-like efficiency, eschewing fancy moves for power behind his blows. His armor and weapons are kept clean and oiled, but are not decorated or shined so as to be showy.

 
 

Copy of Treaty between Red Ruin Orc Tribe and Timoron Kingdom

Discovered in Kendrick's personal effects

 

Kendricks marginalia, partially obscured by water stains it has been reproduced here as completely as possible: At the time it was hailed as a breakthrough. There were difficulties, of course. Many felt the Orcs could not be trusted to be peaceable for more than a few months. But, the two leaders who signed the accord (which took only three nights working together, meeting on a barge in the middle of the River) were strong, and managed to keep the more radical factions of their own camps in check until it became an idea everyone was used to. With careful maintenance of the Neutral Zone, as well as the strength of a couple of attacks on illegal settlers that the King did not rise to retaliate against, it has stood for more than 200 years of the 1000 years agreed upon in the original document. While the Truce has not ended conflict between the two nations (raids by small splinter Orc tribes happen, as do occasional 'renegade' Rangers caught over the Line), it has led to the concept that the two territories are distinct nations, with a recognized border. Until now, of course. While the current King (ironically also named Roderick) may have been swayed by the Western Emperor's promises, there are sure to be many who question the wisdom of breaking a treaty that has brought relative prosperity to the Frontier for the first time in the recorded history of the Kingdom.

 

"Being the Treaty agreed upon by the Timro Nation with the Fan Sh' Kafok

Brood of the Family of Gar Sh' Kafok, hereafter referred to by the name they

are known and justly feared by in the Timroan tongue, the Red Ruin Tribe.

 

Gar Sh'Kafok shall hereafter be referred to by the name he is known and

justly feared by in the Timoroan Toungue, Chief Arrowcatcher.

 

It has been agreed that the lands to the North of the Timro Kingdom comprise

a wide enough expanse that there is room upon them for the Red Ruin Tribe and

the People of the Timro Kingdom to each have a place thereupon. The continued

shedding of blood assures only that both Folks shall shed the blood of their

progeny for no good gain, and to the weakening of resistance from without

their respective Borders.

 

To this end, it is agreed by His Most August Servant of the Peoples of Timro,

King Roderick Jeffreyson, and the Fierecest and Most Valiant Foe of his

Peoples, the Chief Arrowcatcher of the Red Ruin Tribe, that they shall

declare a truce to last for one thousand years. This Truce remains binding

and shall Not Be Broken until such time as events may occur to threaten the

Mutual Borders of the Two Peoples. At Such a Time, the Truce may be Broken to

allow each the Others Forces Free Passage through and Within their own

Territories.

 

The Territories of the Two Peoples shall be bounded by the River known to the

People of Timro as the North Thunder River, and to the Red Ruin Tribe as the

Mountainfoot Flow.

 

Between the two Territories there shall exist a land that is the Claim of

Neither. Neither of the Peoples may Build their structures upon it, nor

Inhabit any dwellings beneath its Surface.

 

The Territory that is the Claim of Neither shall be bounded to the North the

distance of One Arrow fired from the Bow of a Ranger in the Service of the

Timro Kingdom who shall stand with one foot in the water on the North side of

the Thunder River at the Ford known as Red Waters Crossing.

 

The Territory that is the Claim of Neither shall be bounded to the South the

distance of One Stone of Fist Size slung from the Sling of a Birdcatcher

blood-bound to the Clan Arrowcatcher who shall stand with one foot in the

water on the South side of the Thunder River at the Ford known as Red Waters

Crossing.

 

Citizens of Both Peoples shall be duly Informed of the Existence of this

Territory that is the Claim of Neither People. There shall be no Habitation

of this Territory. Any Citizens currently Inhabiting this Territory shall

have one Cycle of the Moon to Remove themselves to Beyond its Borders.

 

This Territory That is the Claim of Neither may not be Entered in Force by

Either of the Peoples. The First to do so shall have Broken the Truce, and

have shown Dishonor and Deceit, such that all Other Nations should notice and

Recognize their Treachery. Should a Citizen of either People cross the

Territory that is the Claim of Neither, then both Peoples are Agreed that

they shall Relinquish their Protection of those Citizens, leaving them upon

the Mercy of the Peoples whose Territory they have Unjustly Entered.

 

The Ruler of Either People May Allow Representative from the other People to

Pass Freely Into their Territory. If this Provision is Made, then the

Representative shall be Afforded all the Protections of the Populace that a

Member of those People would Expect.

 

This Agreement is Made this day for the Benefit of Both Peoples, that they

may Live Freely without Fear of Conflict for as long as they both remain

Honorable and Just.

 

Kendrick's End Notes:

<<<The document this is written on a piece of fine heavy paper with a high

cloth content, though nothing otherwise too ornate (it was the draft hammered

out and agreed upon by two leaders in the field, after all…). It is signed in

ink with a quill from an Eagle by the King, and the X in blood that was the

'signature' of the Orc Chief Arrowcatcher (though the phrase 'Chief' probably

underestimates the level of power he commanded. >>>

 

 

Letter #13-

 

Dear Mother-

As with my last letter to you, more time has passed than I would have liked before writing to you. I am writing this letter at night, before I go to sleep, because tomorrow is one of the most uncertain days I have faced so far in my life, I think. I do not even know when I will have a chance to see this letter off to you, because circumstances are such that the chance of any mail making its way out of this place before I can myself are slim. If this letter is delivered to you, then hopefully it means I am safe and was able to send it.

I am in the Yin-Sloth Jungles now. Please don't be alarmed by this, it is no more or less dangerous than some of the other places I have been, and the presence of my friends means it is as much home as any place I have traveled to so far. If father has not shared my last letter to him, then all I will tell you is that we have had some very strange encounters with dark and powerful magic while have been here. Though the Emperor of course claims all this land as his by right of subjugation, it is obvious to any who journey to this remote and wild place that his hold on this place is tenuous at best.

The folk of this place are as dark-skinned as night, though their skins are not weathered as I thought they should be from so long spent under this hot sun. Loraan's family has a plantation on which they have many of these dark-skinned men as indentured servants- I guess they are 'slaves' in the West, but they are well treated, and seem not unhappy with their life in the village. Before the Westerners came here, they all lived in the depths of the forest, which is called a 'Jungle' here.

The 'Jungle' is not like out Forest at home. It is hard to describe if you have not seen it. It is like our forest, but exploded. It is always summer, always wet, and the plants and animals just grow and grow and grow with no winter to keep them in check. I have seen amazing things- more different kinds of flowers in a single greenhouse than there are in all of Timro. Huge bears with wicked claws that eat only plants and move more slowly than a snail. And the strange signs of the people who still live inside the Forest. Like the Unkempt Old Believers far to the Northwest of our farm, they seem to be able to move freely through parts of the forest that scare the other folk here, and many seem to be afraid of what they may be able to do, even though no one can seem to say exactly what that might be. It is an odd place, and though I have had a local Scout teach me some of the ways of it, I would not want to have to make my way alone though it. The signs I look for are all backwards. Things that seem safe are deadly and poisonous, and things that look like a threat are harmless, like the bear.

There is something in the 'jungle' that seems unhappy with Loraan's family. Whether it is one of the other landowners from the West, or one of the local folk we haven't been able to determine. But two nights ago, a huge snake came for Loraan and we were hard-pressed to fight it back. I was hurt very badly, as was Hasmir. What I mean by huge, is that it was the largest animal I have ever seen in my life. It was hard to tell in the dark, but it must have been 50 feet long at least, for it was the same size as a regular snake, but its coils were as tall as a man. We believe it made off with a child from the village earlier, before we found and killed it. It took almost as many arrows as I had, and exhausted Hasmir and Furin's magics to subdue it. When it breathed its last breath, it began to shrink down again, much as the Blood Roach we fought in the Undercity had. My friends tell me that it was a regular snake that had been magicked to that size. Even when it finally stopped shrinking, it was over 10 feet long. Luckily, Furin is becoming quite a skilled healer, for I had broken several ribs and pulled my shoulder from its joint. I had to spend a full day just resting to recover from the ordeal, and it was then that something very important happened, and even if this letter never reaches you, I must ask you about it and what I should do.

You have never told me much about how you and father met. I have always been curious, but you told me once that you would tell me when it was the right time. I think this is the right time. I have told you many times about Viannoni, the Elven woman-at-arms who has been traveling with us since the beginning. I have told you that she's beautiful, but I have never really told you how much. When I first met her, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on, including the one time when I was eight and we went to the capitol and I saw the Princess of the Realm and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen (and was until I met Vianonni). Please remember that when I met her, she was dressed in worn leathers, with her hair pulled back, her face still dirty from some fight she had just been in. With all of that, I knew that very moment I met her that I would never ever meet another woman who could ever hope to be as perfectly beautiful. It was hard at first to talk to her, but she seemed used to people gawking at her, and though I was always tongue-tied and clumsy when she was near, she never abused me for it, as a woman who valued her beauty greatly might. After a while, I got used to being around her, and besides, my friend Hasmir, who had more power and wealth than I would ever even want, let alone actually have, was clearly interested in her. So it made it easier to be around. Also, the fact that she was a comrade-in-arms somehow made it all right, too. That she risked her life with us made her one of us. She was a comrade-in-arms, and not some haughty princess.

That changed for a while after we went to the Sethlans party. She dressed up for it. It was the first time I had seen her when she was not trying to hide how beautiful she was, and she was like a goddess. I cannot describe it right, you would have to have seen her. I saw a man fall off a dock and into the river below when she walked by because he could not take his eyes from her. She didn't even notice, she even seemed a little annoyed by all the attention, and I spent most of the night looking around her, because it hurt my eyes to look right at her, like when Roderick and I used to try to see who could look at the sun for the longest before looking away. A lot happened that night that I told you about already. What I didn't tell you is that I think that I may have gotten into trouble because I wasn't paying attention to what was happening around me like I should have. I was too busy trying to steal glances at Vianonni when she wasn't looking that I was careless. She makes me reckless in a way that is kind of scary, but it also feels good to know that she can protect me as well as I can protect her if need be.

But you are probably wondering what all this has to do with me asking how

you and father met.

Last night there was a dance. It was a social thing that Hasmir had to go to because he was an important noble who was visiting, and Loraan's mother was having this party. There was a woman there who was obviously trying to meet him and get him interested in her, and for some reason he couldn't just

tell her to go away, so he didn't get to spend much time with Vianonni, which is what usually happens when we go to things like this. I don't really like them because I'm not good at them, and usually end up eating too much with the wrong fork or shaking hands instead of bowing like I'm supposed to. Vianonni was not as dressed up as she was at Sethlans, but she was still the most beautiful woman anyone in this part of the world had ever seen. You could tell from the way all the men said she was, and all the ladies said she wasn't when all the men were paying attention to her, crowding around her and gawking and things like that. She has never had any trouble handling herself, so I didn't think too much of it. But when she got away from the men from the farm, she dragged me out onto the verandah. I thought it was because she had

found out something about Loraan or one of the guests that I needed to know. But instead of telling me something about our mission, she told me that she loved me.

Right there on the veranda, at the party, with everyone just a few feet away inside the room. I was so surprised that I actually forgot how to speak Western for about five whole minutes. She was talking to me, and asking me things, and getting mad that I wasn't saying anything, and she even said, "I never took you for dim!" when I really just couldn't think how to string more than two words of Western together. I knew she doesn't speak Eastern, so I couldn't talk to her in that. It made me look pretty foolish, and I didn't know what to say, so I just asked her to dance, and we did, and it was very nice for a few minutes, and I had just thought of something to say when Sid walked out to tell us something about one of the guests. Like I thought Vianonni was going to before.

Oh, before I go on, I should tell you about Sid. He's a Scout, sort of a Ranger like me, but he isn't part of a regular corps like me. He's more like one of the border runners who work mostly alone. He's one of the friendliest people I've ever met, and he was really helpful to me with learning my way around the jungle. He is very smart and knows all of the people here, including many of the local folk. He also knows about all of the local plants and herbs and what they can do. I hope he joins us when all of this is over, but he probably will stay here in the jungle where he knows everyone. Anyway, he is very good at knowing what is happening with people, so he was very nice about having seem me and Vianonni dancing by ourselves, and acted like it hadn't happened.

But unfortunately, by this time Hasmir had gotten away from the woman who was after him, and he saw some of what happened, or heard something or something like that. He took me to the side and started asking me what was happening, and he seemed really, really angry, and it flustered me, and I was having trouble talking Western again. All I could do was stutter at him like a fool while he got more and more angry because I wasn't answering him. By this time we had found out that some kind of trouble was happening, because the city to the North was burning, and we could see the light from the granaries as they burned down many miles away. Hasmir was so mad he just said, "Let them burn! They don't belong to ME!" And that was when I was the most scared, because he sounded just like every other noble who was going to kill a bunch of people or burn a village down because he couldn't get his way. I thought that right there he might try to fight or something, and I was really scared because I was afraid I might have to hurt him to keep him from doing something really foolish.

I guess I have Azaz to thank for keeping the whole thing under control. He kept reminding Hasmir about how everyone needed to know what he wanted done, because he was the highest-ranking noble there. After reminding him enough times how important he was, Hasmir got the point and went off to talk to the other important people at the party. But it was pretty tense for a minute or two. Later on, Vianonni explained everything to everyone, and Hasmir seemed to feel better about it. So at least it looks like that part of things won't be a problem. I think Hasmir and I have fought together too much to let something like that stay a burr under his boot for too long, plus he knew it could ever really work out with Vianonni, since he wouldn't be allowed to marry her, and after all, he sure wasn't ready to give up being a noble, even for her.

But that's what I am so worried about and need your advice on. I know that you and father met during the time that he was travelling around, doing things like I am doing now. I know that you know some magic, even though you've never really used much of it. Since I have been here, I have learned a thing or two about it magic, and it seems like anyone who uses it in a serious way ends up having it affect their lives in ways they didn't count on. And it also seems to be something that you don't take up the study of lightly or without a lot of sacrifice. I don't know what it may have meant to you, but it must have been hard to give it up, even to be with father. I was hoping you could give me some advice what to do. I am really scared by this whole thing. Vianonni has told me she loves me and I don't know what to do. She doesn't care that all the stories say that loves like this never work out right in the end, and that we can't ever have any children. And the really, really scary thing is that I don't care either.

Here is the real problem. If I do try to be with her, and I really do, I am afraid it means I won't be coming home. Ever. A life with her would be the most exciting thing I could imagine, but I can't see her ever settling down on a farm back home to bake bread and make honey and teach her daughters how to sew. That can't have been easy for you either. I know that it was hard for you to be a foreign woman brought to Timoro, even if it was by someone everyone liked. I know there was gossip about you because of all the books you brought with you, and how you liked so much to just sit our in the sun and read, and about your little clockwork owl.

So I guess what I need is for you to tell me its OK to want to be with her so badly that I don't come back. Since you left your home pretty much forever to be with Father, I need to know what you think about the whole matter before I can even try to make a decision. So please respond when you can. Please don't show this letter to Father yet. He has other maters to concern him, and I think I know what his answer would be.

 

Love,

Kendrick

(No seal)

 

 

Letter #12: Addressed to Kendrick's Father on the Front of the Northern War

Written in the Eastern Tongue.

 

Father-

I hope this letter finds you well, and your campaign a success. I do not know when this letter will reach you, as I am writing to you from a city on the edge of the Yin-Sloth jungles. We are here with the intent of visiting my friend, Loraan the Scholar's, relatives, but there have been events of dire importance that I needed to share with you, both for advice for myself, and for your own information. Since you left Assur with the other Rangers, I have been privy to some very disturbing information. I am sure that you have heard rumors that troops of the Western Emperor have been employing less than honorable tactics in their attempts to subdue the 'pirates' of the Lopan Isles. There are rumors about in the city of Assur that the Emperor has employed Demons in his service and that the 'raids' by the Pirates have nothing to do with Lopan at all, but were used by the Western Emperor as an excuse to seize Lopan so that he could expand his naval power.

From what I have been able to ascertain, this is true. I had a very strange and perhaps very important experience on my trip to Yin-Sloth, and an even stranger and more important one when I arrived. In order to avoid attracting too much attention on the sea while travelling, my friend Hasmir booked us passage aboard a small military vessel transporting supplies to the Yin-Sloth region. Normally, he travels in

whatever style he can afford, but with pirates still active in the Sea of Scarlet Waters, he decided that he should be less ostentatious than usual.

Because this vessel was only about one quarter the size of the one I journeyed from the East on, and because the Sea was much choppier than when I first arrived, I must admit I succumbed to Sea Sickness. I had not expected it to take me so violently or so swiftly, but only a few hours out of port, I

was retching and dizzy, and unable to little but stay below and out of sight of the heaving waves.

Eventually, the initial high seas subsided slightly and I felt well enough to rouse to look for water and perhaps a small bit of food. I opened a door that I thought was to a hold and was very surprised to find that it was indeed a hold, but contained not supplies, but prisoners. I understand that prisoners aboard a ship, is not an unusual practice, especially in hedonistic lands where slavery is regular practice. The first few men I saw chained to the walls were criminal types, obviously hardened and used to such treatment. But I paused long enough to hear over their murmured complaints of thirst and hunger to a low moaning.

When I cast my eyes back to the back of the hold, I saw a group of people who were obviously not criminals. They were Lopanese. The person I heard moaning was a child of no more than 5 years, being urged to silence by her young mother. These prisoners were all women with children and old men. It was obvious they were neither criminals nor prisoners of war, but had been taken by the Western troops when the island was taken.

I asked them how long they had been in the hold, and the first woman I spoke of, whose name was Lara, told me several weeks, since the ship had left Lopan itself. They had been given barely enough food and water, and one of the old men previously with them had actually perished of fright when the hold door was first locked and they had to sit with his body until the ship arrived in Assur. They had been told nothing about their fate, but suspected that they were destined for slavery in the jungle plantations of the

Yin-Sloth. It was clear that none of them would survive there very long.

I arranged to bring them water and food for the child. The criminal prisoners cooperated so that they would be able to partake of the water I brought as well. I was able to do this for a few days until I fell ill again and was discovered by one of the sailors. He did not seemed concerned about the condition the prisoners were being kept in, and it took a reprimand from Hasmir after I told him what was happening for the guard to resume regular food and water for the prisoners.

By this time I had become gravely ill again, so I was below when the ship was attacked. At first, the word was that we had been attacked by pirates, but it soon became apparent they had a powerful elemental mage on board, and our ship was eventually taken and boarded, despite a valiant effort by my comrades. Alas, I remained too ill to have a hand in what came next.

Rather than loot the ship and hold Hasmir for ransom, as we had feared they would, the boarders made straight for the hold and freed the prisoners within. After all had been assembled on the deck, they immediately knelt before one of the old men and handed him a sword, referring to him as 'My

Lord.' As fate would have it, he was one of the prominent Lopan Generals. It was revealed to us that the Western Emperor has ordered the entire Lopan Military command summarily executed! The general was to have been killed in some appropriately barbaric fashion, but was saved due to a bureaucratic error when an innocent shopkeeper was executed in his place. He reported that conditions back on his home island were an affront ot the Gods, the Emperor's troops pillaging, looting, and raping their way across his lands. He also reported upon the Black Ships that sail the Sea of Scarlet Waters actually bearing the flag of the Western Emperor! Even this hardened veteran, unscathed by weeks of imprisonment, shuddered as he spoke of their demonic crews.

So because I had helped them, we were left to our own devices in a longboat, rather than taken prisoner and held for ransom or simply scuttled with our ship. The General was an honorable man, and though I was not able to properly thank him, if we ever meet him again, our family owes him a great

debt. Thanks to Loraan, who navigated by the sun and stars, we were able to find land before we were swept up into the monsoons, where we would have surely perished on the open ocean. We arrived in the city harbor of Jaromir, where we were actually expected, and rested from our ordeal before moving down river.

As it happened, it is Holiday season here, and there is a grand festival. I do not know if you have ever attended it, but it is a sight to behold! The important details are that we were staying with a widow who was a friend of Hasmir's family, and that we were invited to a large party to be held on the night of the Equinox. As the night of the party approached and we explored the house we were staying in, it became increasingly apparent that there was some strange event that we would be witness to on the evening of the party. I fear that I do not have the knowledge of magic to explain exactly what was supposed to happen, but I am reasonably sure that we prevented a great evil from being summoned into the world. The ceremony relied upon the party guests chanting in unison to activate a spell that was etched onto hundreds of clay tiles. I have included one I removed from the building when we left for you to pass along to an expert who may be able to make sense of it. The actual event itself, we were joined by a man from the Eastern Territories named XXXX. He has renounced his Eastern citizenship to worship the Emperor and is a member of the council of Magi. He was arrogant and dismissive of the East, s many such deserters are, and openly consorted with a rat-headed demon that he used as a manservant. I would have slain the foul creature had Hasmir not assured me its master was our ally in attempting to stop the ceremony.

When the ceremony began, it was if the Gates to the Nether Realms had been opened. A group of the native people gathered in the room and began chanting along with the guests, when the Summoner foolishly (or perhaps purposefully, he never spoke of it) blinded us all just as the ceremony

began. Moments later, monstrous Demonic creatures stepped from the Shadows and began a reign of carnage that spared no one, not even the unlucky cultists themselves, who did not seem to be able to control what they had summoned. We barely escaped with our lives. The ceremony was halted when the Summoner, after much delay, transmogrified a portion of the magical tiles into mud. I regained my sight just in time to avoid being beheaded by one of the Scorpion Men of Ancient Myth. I defeated him, but was gravely wounded in the battle.

When the doors were thrown open and the last demon had disappeared due to the failure of the ritual, the foul Summoner sheathed his blade and strode towards the waterfront. We followed to see him board one of the Black Ships I had mentioned before. I later learned that he had murdered the widow in cold blood "to keep her from possibly becoming possessed" with a Rune Blade of Foul Corruption simply because she had been present at the ceremony. He seemed to care nothing for the panic he caused and indeed revelled in the fear that the foul, Hell-spawned vessel inspired. The most disturbing news is that the foul spirit that caused all this carnage, that arranged for the ceremony to take place, and hoped to reap

whatever benefit might have been gained, was nowhere to be found.

It is my fear that the foul Summoner captured the spirit to use for his own (and the Western Emperor's) evil ends. Indeed, he may have helped orchestrate the entire disastrous gathering for that sole purpose. hat he serves the Emperor so willingly despite his avowed loyalty to the Guild of Magi should be grave news for the East, and indeed for any people he should choose to utilize his foul magics against.

Father, such as these are our allies. I must ask you now, and you must answer me, for it troubles me greatly. Do you know of these things? Does the leadership of the Rangers? Does our King. If I am to remain his willing servant, I must know that our nation will not tolerate such corruption simply for the sake of some slight hope of some greater security. Does our liege feel that a meager horde of orcs and goblins that have not been a threat to us for centuries is sufficient explanation when the Great Dragon places the weights of innocent spirits he has helped send to damnation in other lands upon its silver scales?

Is what I learned from mother and you true? Or do the people of Lopan suffer despite our knowledge, despite their innocence, despite our certainty that the Emperor of the West works against us with his canals and armadas even as he sends our troops to die in a war against other races we were at peace with?

Do I remain His Majesty's willing servant? Do I remain proud of my family and my comrades in arms?

Please try to respond to my letter with all the haste that our difficult situations allow. These questions weight heavily upon me, even more so for the weight of the Eagle feather I carry above my heart when the plume is not on my brow.

 

Respectfully,

Kendrick

 

(No Western signature seal)

 

 

Letter 11- Handed to 'One-Eye' before his return to the East, for quick delivery to Kendrick's homestead.

 

Mother-

A lot has happened to me since the last time I wrote to you, and for that I apologize. It seems like things in my life are moving so fast now that even I can barely keep track of them. SO I will try and bring you as up to date as I can on events here in Ashure since my last letter.

I'm not sure right now whether Father would be at home or not. I assume he is on the frontier along with the rest of the Rangers, since I have not heard from him directly. When I last wrote you, I told you of the Haunting of the Dormitory at the University. Well, after I returned from my adventure under the city (which I will write about in another letter when I have more time) with the Dwarves, we found that the Dorm had been taken over by a gang of bandits who were called the 'Drop-outs', because many of them used to be students in the University and 'dropped out' when the studying was too hard.

Anyway, they were pretty angry at me because of a fight I got in with one of them after they beat up my tutor (which I told you about before). So I wanted to go and clean up the Dorm and kick them out so that students could live there again. But before we could do that, we had to go to this big party that another one of the 'Nassurs' (a prince like my friend Tarquin) was throwing.

In this case, it was Nassur Sethlands, whose family the Dorm that my friend Hasmir had been staying at while he was in school. I learned later that Sethlands is pretty much just an evil man. He is the worst kind of inbred royal hogswallower. We all went to his party, which was supposed to be 'informal'. Since it was 'informal'. Hasmir only had to spend a small fortune instead of a big one buying us all fancy new 'informal' clothes.

So we went to the party and Vianonni looked more beautiful than anyone I've ever seen, even her, that time she went to dinner, and Furin looked very pretty too, but it looked like she spent a lot more money than Viannonni. Hasmir had a tailor make me something that looked a little like an Eastern uniform, so it wasn't too bad for me. When we got there, there was more food than I think I've ever seen in one place at one time, including Harvest Festival! They had these really tasty tiny little hens that they had cooked with some kind of spices I've never had but they were really delicious. They also had that fruit ice that I am really starting to like. Nasur Sethlands came over and talked to me, and he seemed Okay, but those kind of people always do until they're losing, and he was trying to make fun of me but it didn't really bother me because I'm used to it by now.

So lots of weird stuff happened at the party that I didn't really

catch. Hasmir and Loraan seemed pretty upset about something to do with Furin, but they never let me in on it, so I figure it was some political thing that I probably wouldn't get anyways. About half an hour into the night, someone challenged me to a duel, which I accepted (because I had to- it has something to do with weird laws out here), and won a couple of days later. They thought I wouldn't be able to handle that, but I got help from Hasmir and a teacher he hired, so it all worked out fine, nothing to worry about. Nasur Sethlands was really upset about my winning, and treated the guy who fought for him really badly, just showing what a jerk he really is.

But the best part of the party was when the Duke of Aracho showed up! I didn't know he was in Ashure, and it was great to see him and hear someone speaking real Eastern, not the court-talk they usually use. Somehow Hasmir got him a fiddle, and he got the band to play a Box and Reel! No one really knew what to do at first, but I started dancing, too (you always said I was pretty good!), and pretty soon everyone was really having a very good time, and it actually felt 'informal' like it was supposed to. I actually got to dance some with Vianonni, which was really fun. With the amazing fearie-leaps she can make, she was amazing! If she entered the Harvesting Faire she'd win before the music even stopped. I left feeling pretty good and was really glad the Duke showed up. I found out a little more about what is going on back home and to the North, so I'm glad I went, even if it did mean I had to put off going to their Dorm until after the Duel.

When we did go to the Dorm, Old One-Eye, the Ranger Bowmaster, came along with us, since he had heard about some of the things the gangs had been doing in Ashure. We busted right in and took back the Dorm, with help from Hasmir and Vianonni. We were right to do it to, because they actually had ghouls and zombies there working with them. It was Black Magic at work in there, Mother, but we rooted it out and it couldn't stand being exposed to the light of day. Once all was over, we returned to Hasmir's new house in the University quarter. The house is amazing! It was owned by a scholar who loved the sea, and built it to look like a ship! I've never seen anything like it. It gets a little hot sometimes, but nowhere here is really cool, so it's all right. All in all, I was proud of how the East stood up for itself here in Asshure this week, and I hope you are too.

Next week, we are going to visit Loraan's sister, and maybe even going to then make a trip to Loraan's home in the Yin-Sloth jungles. Loraan says I'd like it because it's a forest, but he says it in that way that I'm never sure if he really means it. But since it's another place I haven't been to yet, I'm looking forward to it. 

Anyway, that is all the space and time I have. Rainy season is almost here, so my crops should be coming up soon. I will tell you how they do. The kids seem to be really looking forward to it. They haven't looked this happy since I met them, so I think I am doing the right thing here.

-Please write back soon.

Kendrick (signed with signature seal)

 

 

Extracts from the "Uninvited Guest"

A young slave runs through the city, a nondescript messenger much like any of a hundred others going about similar tasks as the sun rises over Assure. He carries a satchel containing dispatches of some kind, also not the least bit unusual. He runs up the steps of a large and imposing house, greeting the guard at the door with a nod. They have been told to expect him, and that he is not to be delayed. The messenger, barely winded from his cross-city run, bows inn a cursory manner to the personal attendant who greets him. With no words, he reaches into his satchel and extracts a plain but compact scroll of some kind. It is tied with simple lavender-colored ribbon. The attendant nods and, in a move somewhat more unusual than any witnessed so far, hands the messenger a large gold coin, enough to buy the boy's freedom if he could actually exchange it anywhere. The lithe young man tucks the coin into a small pocket sewn into the satchel without a second glance, bows slightly to the attendant, and turns and trots out of the chamber, down the hall and back into the city, presumably to repeat this process elsewhere.

The scroll is placed on a tray of beaten silver inlaid with gold and carried carefully through the halls of the house, up a long curving flight of stone steps, and down another long hall. Past two huge eunuchs formerly of the Yin-Sloth region, message and message-bearer pass through an ornate doorway, its door slightly ajar, the smells of perfumed oils wafting out into the hall. The tray is placed on a night-stand, and the personal attendant retires, closing the great doors as he exits. The make not a sound as they seal the room off from any outside distractions.

It is only a very few moments before a hand reaches out from somewhere among the jumbled sheets on the vast expanse of bed and clutches somewhat clumsily at the document. A single long lacquered nail of blood red easily slices the ribbon away. The scroll unrolls easily, and sleepy eyes begin to scam its contents

 

"The Uninvited Guest"

'Thrice invited, I decided to attend all three functions. That my body was present at none of the affairs mattered not. I appeared in spirit, and gave as good an accounting of events as any in the days that followed, with the advantage of no anecdotes of disreputable behavior on that eve available to my detractors. My hosts were none the wiser, though my mistress noted my presence at home'

- Magus Azuthras, of questionable magical talent, but master of 'social alchemy'

Genteel readers, I have the pleasure to report that most rare of occurrences: a party of such unexpected turns that even those who attended in corpus have had a difficult time reconciling the sundry events which occurred. Before I go into the detail you all long to devour, I must make one thing clear as the water the beloved God King urinates: you attended this party. If there can be any doubt as to your whereabouts last eve (and if you have been following my advice faithfully, I know there will be, yes?), then make sure to drop hints that you were present at the Umur Sethlan's little informal gathering.

Of course, it began as such things do, so drearily informal as to be attended by the walking dead and their Necromantic puppeteers, but things got interesting once the entertainment arrived, as it will at the most carefully planned unplanned events.

In this case, the entertainment in question was intended to be the young Tarquin, who boldly (as it turned out, though 'foolhardily' had better odds a mere 2 hours prior) accepted an invitation to the previously mentioned casual affair. He turned many heads by towing his current entourage, one of the more colorful to be seen orbiting a noble of his few years in recent memory.

He entered strongly, refusing to be identified as the heir to the house of Tarquin; a mundane opening by the host, but it did succeed in setting the tone for the evening's sparring. Rumors the eclectic young Nasur was associating with elves, dwarves, and Easterners were all confirmed at one time or another. The former and latter through the presence of his entourage, the median through snippets of conversation your proxy was privy to.

That he chose to bring them along was a bold statement of his intent they be recognized by society as his companions, but even bolder was his decision to escort an Elven noblewoman (named Viannonni, pronounced etc., etc., the meaning in the Elven tongue is unknown <See the Fashion Footnote for details of her dress you may mention>) of such radiant beauty that the musicians lost tempo when she entered the dancing chamber. The confidence displayed by the Nassur in then letting her roam the party unescorted was even bolder. Such was her beauty that even the host seemed unable to boldly approach as his station warranted, settling instead for pursuing the younger (but still exquisite by all but the most jaded of decadents) common Elf woman (named Furin, pronounced etc., etc., <see the Fashion Footnote for her dress>), only to be apparently rejected, if reports from the Room of Soft Floors is to be believed

The night was certainly eventful, even by Ashurian social standards. Among the highlights you may be inquired for your opinion about: The Elven commoner was served one of the standard 'servant's error' dishes, but seemed to take no notice of it, though the Nasur Tarquin was visibly upset. CW: The host won this round, though it has been viewed by many as hardly worth his time to have bothered, but lost his upper hand when he failed to seduce the young woman, a major setback for his reputation as a shameless <Lothario>. Upper hand to Tarquin.

The Easterner, a warrior from the forests there called a Ranger (Named Kendrick Franklinson (how quaint!!!) see FF for his rustic, back-to-nature look, complete with large sword, apparently for chopping down trees), was made sport of from the beginning, though his utter ignorance of Assurian social convention made the sport hardly sporting at all. His utter lack of guile was refreshing to the author, and his shoulders, wide enough todrive a cart on, did not fail to impress the more martial minded of the guests. Nonetheless, the host had maneuvered him into a duel with part-time duelist and full-time imbiber Baal Grazulb, whose name has graced these pages on many occasions prior to this one. The insult was extracted in a time that is a record in Assurian social history, certainly a coup for the host. The Easterner, for his part, did not immediately attempt to slay Grazulb, as many in the know had expected, but instead accepted the duel, immediately seconded by Tarquin's own bodyguard, Aziz, whose name you have seen here before as well. this bold move surprised many partygoers, and the Easterner's contempt for the foppish manners of his challenger earned him grudging respect from the previously mentioned military presence. The duel is set for three days hence, and though the odds against the Easterner stand at high against, a small contingent of high-ranking soldiers angered by the shoddy treatment afforded the Duke from the East present at the party (more on him below) have made it clear they intend to bet upon the foreigner. Et, tu, boys?

There is much speculation on whether this was brilliant or incredibly foolhardy move by Tarquin. Much relies upon how the Easterner acquits himself in this duel. There has been much speculation on the meeting between Tarquin and the youngest of the Noble Lords,Umur Shamshi-adad. We all know his advisor to be the honorable Turtan Aroch BeshTaruum. Could a surprise victory be in the works from Tarquin? The next Uninvited Guest shall relate the tale

Now a step-by-step analysis of the host and key players movements, including a description of the music you danced to and enjoyed immensely for its novelty, thanks very much.--------and so on

The room is silent as the entire scroll is pored over, for most of the day. A meal is left, to grow cold on the night-stand, replaced by another hot one every hour. As evening falls, the holder of the scroll rises from the bed and summons the attendant. A voice, raspy from lack of water, food, and perhaps n small amount f previous overindulgence, speaks

"Have the tailors called in. I need something for attending a duel. But make sure it also matches for a murder, just in case"
 

 

Reply to Letter 7

Dated in the Eastern means of reckoning time, 3 days previous to Kendrick's receipt of this letter on Anshar 21 6046

Dear Kendrick,

Just got your letter. Since when are you the man of letters? I seems to remember reading and writing better than you back when we were learning our letters.

Sounds like you found a whole lot of excitement out West. Fighting assassins and street gangs in the city in broad daylight! I remember when we were boys and your Ma told stories about them and I thought it was exciting but never thought we would ever fight them! I asked your Pa about street gangs and he told me they were like bandits who live in the cities and that they don't have no city guard out there to deal with them. I wondered why the townsfolk just don't band together and toss them out and your Pa said that the city is too big. I'm not sure just how big that is, but it must be pretty big.

I figure that you must want to know what's going on at home so I figure I better use the rest of this paper telling you. I'm not posted in the mountains no more. All the Rangers are on Active Duty now, no more walking the Marches. From what I hear, around a couple months ago, a dozen men in black and silver uniforms arrived in Fort Aracho. I'm told that they were all sorcerers from the west. Shortly after it seems we started seeing a whole lot of Westerners around the fort, mostly officers and such. The regular soldiers at the fort were put to work building a whole lot of barracks and the Westerners walked around like they owned the place. Then a whole mess of foreigner troops appeared like out of nowhere. They were just there one morning. All the guys think its magick of some sort. They were all kin of snooty to us and I heard there was a whole bunch of fights between our guys and theirs until the officers put a stop to it. Gods! You know the Westerners whip their men for punishment! I'd just rather get nightwatch myself

So anyway, I hear that's when your Pa got called back on duty and he was working with the foreign officers at the Fort. There was a whole lot of drilling and marching for a week or so with both our and Western troops together, while the Rangers were sent to scout the Northern Marches and the mountain passes. Me and Jake and Tim and Curt and Old Willy were a Hand for that, we got to scout Ogre Pass! Then a couple weeks back, the push came on. Our soldiers (His Majesty's 2nd Light Infantry, the Gryphon Standard) and the soldiers from out West, marched north. They took (and still hold) Ogre Pass and Dead Man's Pass. For the next week they had us scouting deep north in the Old Kingdom (And you think its exciting where you are!) Another Hand, scouting north of the pass got caught up by an orc raiding party. Billy and Jeb and Old Harry were killed. Harlan and Little Jack made it home safe but Harlan was wounded bad. I hear that Jack got an Eagle Feather*1 from Old Man Tucker after Harlan reported. Last week the big push came and cavalry and infantry all came north from the Capital.

Here is a list of what I saw, because I know you would want to know: His Majesty's 1st Cavalry, the Rising Sun Standard. His Majesty's 1st Heavy Infantry, the Lion Standard. His Majesty's 12th Medium Infantry, the Eagle Standard. His Majesty's 9th Medium Infantry, the Gyrfalcon standard. His Majesty's 4rth Heavy Infantry, the Silver Branch Standard. I hear there was more (and the Western Troops too) but that's all that I saw myself*2 We all figured that something big was going down.

We were right, and its bigger than we had any idea. Last week the army marched north through Dead Man's Pass and attacked several Orc and Ogre villages. The smoke of their burning could be seen for hundreds of miles. This broke our treaty with the Red Ruin tribe, so all the Rangers know there'll be Hell to pay. A day later an Orcish warrior painted for battle rode through the Pass south with the Black Arrow for the King. There is going to be war again like we hear tell about 75 years back or so. I have even heard talk that the Ranger Lord Malory is riding north to the frontier and will be raising the Dragon. *3

Don't worry about the farm and your Ma, because this time the battle will be way up northwards and we won't let them past us. Your Pa tells me that he's going to write you a letter and that you should sit tight until you hear from him.

 

In Service to His Majesty,

Your Friend Always,

(Signed) Hadron Tarkinson

 

*1 The Eagle Feather is another old Ranger tradition. Not an uncommon honorific, about 1 in 10 Rangers wear an Eagle Feather in their cap. The right to bestow this honor is only held by an elder ranger of more than 50 summers, who himself wears an Eagle Feather. Although it is commonly recognized as a mark of bravery and indeed it seems many have won it by acts of courage in battle, this is not exactly the case. No one but those who wear one, understand what it means and they are sworn to secrecy. Kendrick once (when he was very young, only 6 summers old) asked his father why he had a feather in his cap and another Ranger didn't. When the man refused to say, young Kendrick asked why. The answer has stayed with Kendrick for years. "If folks knew what it meant, then they could try to earn it and then it wouldn't mean anything."

*2 It is a Ranger tradition that while they may verbally report what other Rangers saw while scouting, they will only put in writing what they themselves saw personally.

*3 He refers to raising the "Dragon Standard." The Dragon is the heraldic emblem of the entire corps of Rangers and the Standard itself is only unfurled when the entire corp is called to War. This has not happened in many generations (maybe 160 years or so), since the great Orc Warlord, Garfang the Old *4, united the many tribes and marched forth to burn and pillage all the way south to Old Timoro City itself.

*4 Garfang was said to have unnaturally preserved his life by eating the livers of his slain enemies.

 

Letter #10

Handwritten in an elegant cursive script, this letter was found in the archival vaults of the Temple of Anu in Ashur. This document was transcribed by the humble Priest Joshi from a verbal interview with the aged Kendrick Franklinson, Avad 12, in the 96th year of his life (b. Itomas 3). The dream is thought to have occured about the third week of Anshar in the 23rd year of the reign of Itomas.

I, Joshi, must relate this man's puzzlement over this dream, which he clearly believes to be prophetic of the events (in which he was instrumental) later to occur. As he has no pretentions to special favor of the gods, (indeed his words mirror real humility before them) I decide to believe that he was favored by a Vision of Knowledge of One's Enemies. As such this transcription must be stored within the vaults of the Temple of Anu, to await need of wisdom in the future and as evidence of the wisdom and majesty of the eternal Gods.

Somewhere beneath the city beneath the city

A rat, larger than most, but by no means extraordinary, scurries through tunnels long forgotten by even most of his brethren. Some are natural, a single drip of water eroding holes in solid rock over the course of untold millennia. Some were made by the disparate races of Man, long enough ago that this place might have seen the light of their torches, as they sought to poke their flat faces into worlds not *meant* for them. Some carry the chiseled marks of many teeth, ground down against rock, to break walls when they got in the way, to provide egress to any place they might have been denied. And some, the lowest ones, the ones he hurries through now, his whiskers flat against his snout, wind and twist at odd angles, as if to accommodate sinuous shapes not confined by the normal bounds of locomotion, or even gravity, it sometimes seems.

But the darkness comforts him. He doesn't need to see the intricate carvings he brushes against in the maze of twisty little passages. He has traveled this route many times, and as the first trace of the welcoming stench of decay reaches his flared nostrils, he hurries his pace that he may emerge into the presence of the one whose mission he seeks to carry out.

The twisty passage suddenly flattens to the gnawed curve of a rodent-hewn bolt hole, and the stench has become a symphony of decay. His eyes instantly adjust to the dim glow of the large cavern, and he chitters for attention amidst the cacophony of squeaks, scratchings, and scraping of claws. In the pit below, there is a stirring, as if a bulky form, half buried in the most delectably putrid waste that can be gathered from the pits above, has taken notice and roused from a stupor.

The Dweller in the Shadow of Death's House, Lowest of Us All, the Universal Infector. He Who Will Rule Above as He Does Below.

The din dies, the other rats perched in similar openings around the chamber falling silent as the huge, mottled snout rises from the muck, swallowing a ghoul's left leg (the newcomer notes from its charcoal-mixed-with-moldy-bread-steeped-in-fermented- Troll-blood smell) and chitters/rasps/burbles.

All silence. Another has snuck past my guards, as is the tradition for those who seek audience.What have you (seen/smelled/heard/sensed) as I have commanded? I have not heard of the success of Chitters to the Blood Crawlers' mission above, so tell me of its failure.

Moves Below Us All, the Men were too cunning for Chitters to the Blood Crawlers and Longs To Fight in Light's folly. As you commanded, they were followed as soon as we sensed their arrival. Longs To Fight In Light's Uncowards were ordered away to where the Men would not see them so that we could discover their purpose here before you decided whether to destroy them or simply let them go without showing our snouts.

Chitters to Blood Crawlers (heard/saw/smelled/sensed) true from his servants. They had indeed braved the cavern of the Bone Thing, bested it, and retrieved the Blade of power from the tomb of the Stout Men beyond. Even with my limited ability to (see/smell/hear/sense) the dweomer of such things detected it, though the Stout Man carrying it took great pains to wrap it so as to conceal its nature from anyrat watching. Its (color/odor/tone/temperature) was very like the three other Blades of Power you showed me. It was (redder/higher/more bitter/hotter) than the short and long straight Blades, but (bluer/lower/sweeter/cooler) than the spear given you by the Ghoul Queen.

Cheee! Chitters to Blood Crawlers did speak true! Did he not spring his trap in time? Were the Men forewarned? How has this Salvage, so rightfully Mine, by Law of Refuse, been stolen from Me? Tell me of Chitters to Blood Crawlers' trap. Did Longs to Fight in Light's uncowardice cause him to be rash?

His last act was commendably cowardly, Great Infestor. He held his Zealots in their holes until Chitters With Blood Crawlers gave the order for him to attack the Men, as he Whispered to the Stout man to bring him the Blade of Power.

His Trap was to misdirect the Mens' puny and wholly inadequate (eyes/ears/noses/senses) with the new- memory of a Swarm of Blood Crawlers. This part of his trap was Sprung. They forged down the Watery Passage, where Chitters to Blood Crawlers infected a Blood Crawler with <Most Putrid Gift of Gigantism>. As the Men with blades fought the thing, he commanded Sinuous Brethren ((he shudders, involuntarily)) in thrall to him to devour the Sorcerers among the Men.

The Men defeated the Blood Crawler more quickly than Chitters to Blood Crawlers had foreseen they would. Longs to Fight In Daylight's Zealots stood as Men, facing their prey in the open, and were cut down, as you predicted they would be, sent to the Place Where There Are No Shadows for their folly in doubting you. They were able to slay only one of the Stout Men. The Red Man, the Prince of the Stout Men, the Female With Pointy Bits, and the Sorcerer's Lackey stood against two paws of Longs to Fight in Daylights Zealots and then turned to aid their Companions.

The Sorcerer, alas, could <Command the Flow Of Things>, and stepped between Chitters to Blood Crawlers' eyeblinks to snap his trap before it closed around the Blade of Power. The Scholar of No Apparent Use distracted the Holder of the Blade long enough to keep it from the grasp of Chitters to Blood Crawlers' (Rats Who Trap Rats), who, for all their vaunted reputation, were unable to stay the Men from striking them down ((a nervous chitter rustles through the chamber; few would dare to speak so, even here)).

The last (sight/sound/odor/input) I (saw/heard/smelled/sensed) was of Chitters to Blood Crawlers finally sensibly fleeing, as he should have done much earlier, before all those whom he commanded from below were slain. The final great irony was the Female With Pointy Bits, striking him down from where she crawled on the floor, on all fours, as he fled on his hind legs, like the Man he had spent too much time emulating to remember how to think like a Rat when he needed to.

I observed all this from a Crafty Hidden Perch, among the rubble of the tunnel. I have returned at your Command, Lowest One, to report this Failure of the Faction Who Would Walk Above ((Another chitter, of protest, from the highest, and least illustrious, perches in the chamber)). I await your Assessment.

You have done well, Lurks In Rafters With Senses Tuned. This has been a most interesting Audience, and I Praise you for your Ratsense in staying to observe while not being observed. The Men have passed Above our domain and into the Light ((('Curse it but for the Shadows it makes!' comes the litany of refrain from the Gallery))). We are not Ready to Flee over the thought that they might alert others. In the hand upon hand upon hand of Lifespans I have Ruled from below, the Men who have come have always come alone, or in tiny Swarms, seeking that which they did not wish to reveal to other men. They do not tell of us, or if they do, their Brethren do not believe them, seeing only the Madness that being away from the Light ((('Curse it but for the Shadows it makes')))brings to all of them eventually.

No, we have not failed altogether this Passage of Time. We have Learned, and in that Learning, and we will add that Learning to the Compost of our Knowledge, where it will fester and come together with other Leanings until the Grand Infection is revealed to me.

There is a noise, a loud SPLUCH, followed by a stench of decay so overpowering it silences the Gallery of voices, which had started to chitter in anticipation of the ending of the Audience. A large boil, greenish pink in the dim glow of the phosphorescent moss, erupts from its place on the back of the huge rat-shaped mass' neck. The fluid sprays with uncanny accuracy 15 feet up to shower a single large rat, squatting on one of the hundreds of perches in the huge chamber.

Lurker in Rafters With Senses Tuned, I infect you with the Plague that Opens the Mind. Survive its ravages, and you shall take Chitters to Blood Crawlers' place as my Shaper of Shadows. Now go, and hide, away from the (eyes/ears/nose/senses) of all Men and Rats until you die or emerge stronger, as a true Rat should.

And the rat, covered in a sticky, gangrenous substance, turns and scuttles back into the twisty passages, his body already shaking with convulsions, his eyes watering, his ears ringing. When he reaches the first fork, he points his now-bleeding nose downward instead of the direction he came from. He can feel the carvings become more intricate as he descends, finally emerging in a small octagonal chamber, where he thrashes on the jet black floor, pus from newly- erupting lesions smearing across bas relief that have not known the touch of so much as an insect for a hundred centuries. His thrashing slows, with his breathing, and he lays low to fight the fever for his life.

After endless fever dreams of Light, death, and Red Men with huge boots, he feels a ravenous hunger, the first coherent though he has had since leaving the chamber. But he cannot bring himself to go find food, for he suddenly realizes he now understands the carvings here. And despite every rat instinct that tells him otherwise, he sits up on his hind legs.

And starts to read.

Somewhere in the Light, in the city above the city, Kendrick sits up in bed, awoken by a barely audible scratching in the walls. Shivering despite the heat, he sits up and looks around the room. He checks that the window is shuttered, and peeks under the bed. Assuring himself that it was probably nothing, he checks that his sword is next to his bed where it belongs, and falls back asleep.

 
Letter # 9-

Somewhat hastily hand written, in Eastern, and kept in a small bone scroll case, carried on Kendrick's person during the journey through the Old City.

<In Western>: To any who find this: You will be richly rewarded if you can place it in the hands of Master Salmaan Azer of the University. It contains scholarly knowledge that such ancient seers (but few others) value highly.

Master Salmaan Azer-

Since Loraan can read Eastern, I am pretty sure that you can too. So I have written this acocunt of our journeys in my own language. Hopefully, it will keep just anyone from reading it if the worst should happen and it be found.

If you are reading it, it means that I have met some fate which makes me unable to escape from the ruins of the Old City Below. In this place, your student Loraan, me, Vianonni, Nasur, and Furin are trying to help the Dwarves recover a powerful Rune Blade before it falls into the claws of the Dibuk. Since we have encountered many perils and are only halfway through our journey, I wanted to out down this account while the events of the last few days are still fresh in my mind.

As Loraan probably told you, we set out from Red Hook early in the day and went down into the sewers under the streets there. The sewers were dry and pretty much empty except for Blood Roaches and Serpent Rats. The Rats seemed afraid of the Light we carried, and when the Roaches did bother us, we had salve that Loraan packed to keep the bites from becoming poisoned.

We travelled a long way, led by the Dwarves, through several junctions of tunnels, some of which had been used by the Ghouls, until we found a site where a bonfire had been built by them. According to Loraan, who could read the ancient writing on the walls down here, there were people living down here that were attacked by the Dibuk when they came up through the tunnels. From the looks of the remains, it seems as if the Ghouls slaughtered most of them and then had some kind of demon dance around their fire before they left.

But they didn't go far, because as soon as we had passed that place and walked down a passage that Loraan said was marked 'Danger', we were attacked by a horde of the Dibuk who had been waiting in ambush. Unfortunately, we were blinded by Nasur's spell of daylight, but the Dibuk seemed even more bothered by it. There were a lot of them, but we fought them away, though one of our number was killed in the battle.

He was a Dwarven student along on the expidition because of his scholarly knowledge, and wasn't really expecting to fight. We buried him in the wall in that passage. If we do not return, please see to it that the Dwarven people learn of where he is and send for his body. It's about 40 paces past the big tunnel junction where the bonfire was.

We killed about 20 of the Ghouls and then moved on to where we found a hole in the bottom of the tunnel, leading to a maze of short and twisted passages that the Dibuk have carved out under the City. Luckily, we managed to pass all the way through these without the Dibuk spotting us. We may have scared them away or depleted their numbers enough that they couldn't search for us after the battle before.

We finally made our way to the Old City Under the City, which, as you know, we had been to on a previous Mission. This part was not familiar to us (and so probably not to you, Salmaan-Azer, but Loraan and the Dwarves seemed to have a general idea where we were going).

We did discover various signs of someone inhabiting the Old City: a temple of one of the Western Gods (Nabu?) that had been desecrated. The heads of its entrance statues had been removed and replaced with One Big Eye, like the Boogeymen have. The altar itself was warded to cause anyone who moved it harm of some terrible sort, according to Nasur, who has been trained to see such things in his studies of Magic.

If you should send an expedition down to the temple, be very careful, for it is quite a dangerous place, perhaps even more dangerous now that I have Scouted it as a Ranger.

I also found many tracks that at first I thought looked like large birds, but we later realized they were of huge rats, walking erect like men. We feared we might encounter some of the old Rat Men, perhaps a band of them who had survived and been unable to find their way to the surface, but we never saw any. We did find a building where someone was cultivating a glowing blue fungus with a small irrigation system, like you would use for an outdoor Greenhouse.

We also found evidence that another group of humans had been down into the Old City and along a similar path to the one we were taking. But we did not find out much about them. Loraan learned that there was another expedition from the University scheduled to go down to the Old City at about the same time. If you read this, you may want to look into their whereabouts too.

But we never actually saw anyone else. Eventually we discovered the old Dwarven Mine and were guided through it by the Dwarves. I found a chimney that seems to lead all the way to the surface of the City. We have no idea were it emerges, and we may explore it ourselves when we return to the top of the Shaft. But the water in that room contained some sort of Cave Leeches, and I was lucky to realize they had attached themselves to me before I was totally knocked out by them.

Our leader, Karl, found the shaft leading down, and used a device the Dwarves just invented to lower us all down to the tunnels that led to the Tomb we were looknig for. The entrance to the Tomb was guarded by a terrible Demon composed entirely of Ratling Bones. It stood 10 feet tall and was a terrible sight to behold. Master Salmaan-Azer, I was once attacked by an Ogre in my Barn when I was a child, and it was not as frightening as this creature. It was scarier than the Bag that conained the body of the Summoner, and scarier than the Spirit that attacked us outside Sethlands Dormitory, and because I actually now have some understanding of what it was, it was even scarier than the Incident at the House in the Country which we told you about. If it should be necessary to send an expedition down there, do not disturb any of the Bones in the Big Cavern outside the Tomb. We were able to defeat the Guardian only by the use of every bit of Strength, Cunning, and Sorcery we could muster.

The Tomb itself had many traps, including poisonous Gas that killed another of the Dwarven students. But our Guide actually succeeded in winning through to the Chamber of the Hero, which actually involved a Magical Trap. We never found what would have happened had we not solved the Riddle set to us, because we succeeded and removed the Rune Blade from the Tomb, leaving in its place the Perimssion of the Dwarves to move it to a safer place than where it had been buried.

So now we are ready to try and safely return to the surface. It will be a difficult and dangerous journey, but we hope that the Chimney I discovered may provide a faster way out. I hope you never have cause to read this but if you do, it may do you well to search for where that Chimney emerges in the City.

I hope I may deliver this report to you in person. If I cannot, I ask you to please contact my Father, and tell him of how I served under you for our Cause.

 

Respectfully

Kendrick Franklinson

 

 
Reply to Letters 1-4

 

Note sketched on Envelope:

Kendrick! Hope you are found well. Ashur is hard city on country man. Luck to you and yours. Your Friend, Vassily.

 

 

Dear Kendrick,

Today I received four of your letters from Mr. Tucker1who kindly walked them to me from town, I am writing this in a hurried fashion so that he may return with it to the merchant who delivered them to Fort Aco. Maybe someday you will read this letter.

I am filled with joy at news that you are well and suffered only slight illness on arrival. Many new to the City fare much worse, as did your father years ago. When I first met him, illness had slimmed him down to a mere 6 stone2. I am more concerned, however, at news of your spending time in Red Hook. As the dry season progresses it will become more and more dangerous and disease ridden. Ask your friend Vainoni about Serpent Rats and believe what she says. They are very dangerous and (worse for you) their bite will breed foul disease. Better you die at their fangs than suffer the plagues that they carry. I fear your resistance will be weak, not having grown up amongst their filth. I am also terrified that you mentioned the Dibuhk. I plead with you, Kendrick, to give such demons and eaters of the dead a wide berth. Their ways are too terrible to contemplate and the gods turn their face aside from those who keep their company. I pray that your soul remain ever unburdened by such evil.

I see that you mentioned a "Nassur", I need to mention to you that this is not his name. Rather this is a title and corresponds roughly with that of "Duke". Tarquin is the name of his family, which is one of the oldest and most powerful lineages in the West. Be aware that nobles in the West have strange priveleges and rights. For instance, you do not necessarily have the right to question his judgement, like you would naturally do if a "Duke" back home were discussing strategy with his men. In the West, most individuals would take his "suggestions" as an order. Try discussing this with your friend Loraan, to get a good concept of this. As a family the Tarquin are old and set in their ways, much like you would expect a very old man around here to be. Hopefully you will understand what I mean.

Something I am curious about that wasn't clear from your letter is about your job for Loraan. (Congratulations on such a fine job! So soon upon arrival!) What is it exactly that a scholar needs a bodyguard for, this isn't a really usual thing I'm sure. What would a High Mage who can throw lightening around want with an Ezida scholar? You need to be careful because "friendship" does not mean the same thing in Ashur as it does back home. People may claim to be your friend just to get your help. This situation with Loraan may be fine because he is certainly paying you a fair wage. I do so like the idea of you working at the University. It is very good of you to take writing lessons, have you thought about becoming a student? Is your tutor cute? Maybe this Salmanazer will take you on as a part-time pupil? Don't worry too much about Loraan's harsh words at the party. City folk in the west are proud of their ways and often arrogantly so. Judge him by his actions and demand him to do the same for you. This is the basis of honor.

This elven woman Vainoni sounds quite interesting. I would advise you to be very cautious around her father, as Sorcerers of his ilk are subtle and quick to anger. She's a young elven maiden who has also studied swordsmanship? I'm sure there is a good tale there. About your feelings---Its fine to get nervous and blush around women Kendrick, generally they find it flattering, even if you find it embarrassing. There is a difference between "attraction" and love. Love is hard to come by and is proven in trust through time and deeds. While the rapid beating of your heart can be enjoyable, friendship must be found before love is. The most important thing to remember is, to be yourself and not be ashamed, only in this way can you hope to meet women who really like you for the right reasons. Your father taught me that. But a warning none the less, the epics tell us that when man and elf love one another, the result is often sorrow. The old tales have much to teach us if we only will listen.

I am both pleased and saddened that your heart cries out to the poor folk in their need. I am reminded of how proud of you I've become and what a strong hearted man you are growing into. Don't fall into despair when you find no way to help their plight, just never let your heart grow calloused to other's pain.

You will be pleased to know that your father has evinced much interest in your letters and I will read them to him when I am done writing you. Sadly, your father despite his age and other responsibilities has been called again to active service. Several Western "advisors" have arrived here on the border. This was unexpected at even the highest levels in military command. Apparently they are to help coordinate "new cooperative excursions" between the two nations. Your father was not told aught else and called this "meaningless claptrap". Apparently his experience in the West has made him a valuable commodity and he will serve as a Ranger liason for these Western wizards at Fort Aco. He and I are both somehow disturbed at the idea of wizards in uniform advising the Castellan. He leaves this afternoon with Mr. Tucker. I'll miss him. And I miss you very much too.

Be careful Kendick, the times are troubled ones.

Love,

Mom.

 

1. Mr. Tucker is one of the oldest men you know. As close as he can call it, he's over 80 winters old and has a face like an apple in January from the bottom of the barrel. People have been expecting him to go on Dragon Patrol for years now, but he still has all his teeth and performs his duties with only the occassional complaint. "Town" is Fort Aco and is over 75 miles from your farm.

2. This would put Kendrick's father's 6' foot frame in a 150 pound body.

Letter #8-

Sent by Military courier, to the attention of Sir Franklin Cooperson

 

Sir:

I hope you are well and that the farm prospers. I feel that enough time has passed that I may write to tell you of how some parts of my journeys have progressed so far, and to ask your opinion on certain matters which I feel you may have an interest in, as they affect the well-being of the Kingdom.

I will assume that Mother has kept you abreast of events regarding my own person as she has seen fit. As far as recent events go, I am writing to you after having spent the night standing watch over a tavern in the district of Ashure known as Red Hook. The tavern is the Green Bottle, which I have described in earlier correspondence with mother.

As you no doubt know from your own travels, Red Hook is one of the poorest districts in the great city. The recent droughts have rendered the people here very desperate, and there have been outbreaks of rioting. As you no doubt also know, there are plans by the Western Empire to go to war with both the savage races of the mountains and one of the island nations which has been proven to be harboring pirates.

In order to ensure that the residents of Red Hook did not riot while the army was away from the City, the Western Emperor decreed that Hill Troops should march through Red Hook (and the other poorer sections of the city as well) and provoke a deliberate riot, which could the be put down using as much force as was needed to make sure that the City would be safe for the Western Emperor while his troops were away at War.

I was witness to the savage assault these Hill Barbarians made on the innocent folk of the city. They were little more than Ogres in human form, cutting down any who stood in their path, secure that the people they cut down were unable to fight back against them. It troubled me greatly, father, and I am unsure what to feel about it, so I ask your opinion of this matter.

For my own part, I have found that there are many abandoned lots in Red Hook where great Gardens used to grow when the area was lived in by prosperous citizens of the city. Since the Rat Men rose up from beneath the City, though, there has been no water available, so the area has become dry and dirty. With the help of some orphans who are being cared for by the brother of Viannoni, the Elven woman-at-arms I have spoken of before, I have cleared several lots for planting to try to raise some food for these hungry people.

The problem of water to allow the crops to grow was solved by the dwarves staying at the Inn I mentioned earlier. They know much of the History of the City, and have assured me that there is water beneath the streets of Red Hook, in the form of a river which was covered during the era of the War with the Rat Men. They have even agreed to help me dig a well in exchange for my help with their current project, which entails digging in ancient Dwarven Tombs under the city. My guide knew of Grimnor Ironbound, and spoke respectfully of your service to the Dwarves.

My friend the Nasur Tarquin has helped me in this by getting hold of the legal rights to use water under the land in Red Hook. He owns some of the land also, but exactly how it works is beyond my knowledge of such things, but he has assured me he will see to it the citizens of Red Hook are provided for. I believe him, as he stood with me to protect the children of the orphanage from the riot, despite great danger to himself. He is more like one of our own nobles than one who has never worked, yet he is still guided in many things by what his father wants, instead of his own desire to do right.

My own reasons for writing you directly are two: if you could pass along any information you have heard about the War plans on the Frontier, I would be very grateful. Information here consists mainly of rumors, but I know your friends among the Rangers to be knowledgeable as far as the state of the East is concerned. And the other is to pass along what I have told you about the behavior of the Hill Troops to those friends as well. It would be good for any who fight along side them to know what sort of men these are, trained on the blood of their own people.

As always, I thank you for the opportunity to see the world. It reminds me how fortunate we are in the East to have the strength of all our people to make us strong, with a leader to guide us, not a master to enslave us. When I spoke of the unwillingness of our people to tolerate actions such as those undertaken by their own Emperor, they laughed. But I though I heard fear in their laugh. For me or themselves I was not certain.

Please return my correspondence as it is convenient for you.

 

As the King's Willing Servant,

Kendrick, Firstborn.

 

<No Western signature seal>

 

Letter #7-

Hadron-

Hello from Ashure, the Jewel of the West! I know you don't read well, so I'll write small words (ha ha!) . I am only kidding you. It has been too long since I talked to you last, so I wanted to try and let you know how I am doing here in the West. I have no idea when this letter will reach you in the mountains where you are posted now, but I hope it isn't too long. So much has happened to me that I'm not sure where to start, so I'll just fill you in on what's happened lately. Since it involves fighting, it's probably all you'd want to know about, anyway!

I've been living in Assure for about a month now, and I used to work for a student named Loraan as his bodyguard. That doesn't sound like much excitement, but since I've worked for him, I've gotten hit by a lightning bolt a wizard threw at me (tell Cooper he makes good armor!), fought a bunch of ghouls who were cutting people up for meat, met the son of the biggest Western noble house, explored a Cursed Mansion, destroyed an evil magic bag with a summoner's body in it, and got a job making more money than you'll ever see in your sorry cliff-climbing life. I'm not kidding.

But the really exciting thing was what happened the other day. Remember how we always used to talk about going to the West and getting into fights with the Assassins who terrorized everyone? Well we did yesterday!

They were part of the 'Black Hand', this bunch of assassins working with a street gang called 'the Dropouts' who hang around where Loraan goes to school. They both work for the wizard who shot me with the lightning bolt. Anyway, they found out where one of our other friends' mother lived, so they tried to find her and get her to tell them where we were. Luckily, we found out about this in time, so we rushed to go help her. It was me and my friend Nasur Tarquin, who is some kind of Noble here in the West, but who has to study as Loraan's student for a while (I think it's some kind of punishment or something) who went to see if she was still sucking wind.

Anyway, we got to the house, and Nasur's bodyguard, some big Western soldier with a serious case of Spear-Spine [a derogatory term used to refer to military types who stand straight up and down all the time, no matter what] went around to check out the back way. We are moving towards the house when we heard him yell and Nasur runs towards the door, telling me to keep any of them from getting away. I just know he's gonna get Bushwacked if he goes in, and sure enough this guy dressed all in black appears and throws a couple of daggers at him. He manages to get out of the way, and there I am on the back of a horse with a clear shot with my bow right down the hall, like shooting foxes in a den. Unfortunately, this particular fox had a second hole to run down. I only winged him, and me and Nasur went in. The assassin (because that's what he was) showed up again and I got another arrow into him, but it still wasn't a clean shot. Maybe I'm getting rusty from lack of practice. Don't tell Ol Man Left-Eye that, though, or I'll never hear the end of it when I get home. He always did say I made a better bear than a hawk. [One who is much better with a sword than a bow. All Rangers are supposed to be equally proficient in the two weapons, but in practical experience, most tend to excel at one or the other].

Anyway, we made it down the hall and Nasur, who knows some spells, cast a cloud of swamp air into the room where the assassin fled to. He fell asleep, and since his bodyguard had dealt with the ones in back, he ran upstairs while I tied up the one who was sleeping. I heard him rush up the stairs, then there were a couple of loud thumps and a couple of minutes later Nasur came back downstairs as covered in blood and guts as I think I've ever seen anyone. At first I though maybe he had some spell that had done that to the assassin upstairs, but it turned out he just got lucky and spiked him while he was dropping from the ceiling. They were tricky, but not too original, I guess.

So we managed to rescue Furin's mom and brought her to a place she'd be safe. It was a pretty wild day, and it ended with us getting the job I talked about before.

So now you know what I've been doing, and that I've been staying busy. So I want to know what's going on in the East! My mom hasn't written me back yet, but I know how busy she is. And dad never was much for talking, so she'll probably have to write to me when she isn't around.

I've heard rumors that the West is getting uppity, that there's some island that they've declared war on, and that the RL may even have visited here. Things seem to be happening pretty fast out here; there are riots starting in the slums, and the school isn't safe any more. If you can tell me if you've heard anything, I'll make sure I send you something good from the West. All the beer is imported here (that's a joke.)!

Sleep with one eye open,

Kendrick (Signed with Citizen's signature seal and hand drawing of Ranger sign

for 'Caution')

P.S There's an orc here I know (he works in a bar as a bouncer!!!) who got mad and now he wants to kill me. Guess some things aren't that different no matter where you go!

Letter #6:

Mother,

I hope this letter finds you well. It seems that lately things have been getting more dangerous no matter where I turn. As you know, I mentioned that something important had happened during our trip to the Northern part of the city. Well, it was important enough that I'm working directly for Salmon-Azer now, instead of for Loraan. I'm making enough money to easily afford good lodgings in the city. I think I'll probably start living at that Dwarf's inn now that I don't have to be guarding Loraan every second. Luckily, he's working for Salmon Azer too, so I'll still be around to help him out if he gets into trouble, which he always seems to.

In fact, while we were gone, he managed to stir up trouble without even being here! Remember the one-eyed man that was after him? Well, it looks like he's now in cahoots with a bunch of Orc-kissers called the Dropouts. They used to be just a bunch of punks, kids looking for trouble, like the Crandall Clan back home. But since he gave them swords (and not pig-pokers, but good ancient Dwarven swords kind of like mine) and started encouraging them to make trouble at the school, they've become a real nuisance.

They were beating people up and robbing them and trying to find us. In fact, while they were gone, a couple of them found my tutor and had an Orcish Wedding with her. I can't tell you how mad I was. Lots of people were talking about how badly hurt she was, but they kept hurting her because she couldn't tell them where I was. So I decided to teach them a lesson, just like we were taught in Camp. I found a couple of them hanging around outside the dorm. They were looking all smug and superior because they had their swords, but when I hit one of them, it was pretty obvious they were really stupid because they hadn't learned how to use them. As dad says, "Don't send boys to play men's games". The fight was so easy I killed one of them a lot more easily than I thought I would. The thought of someone waving around a sword like that when they don't know anything about how to use it is kind of scary for the folks walking around without any swords, but it makes me feel better knowing these guys have no idea which end to try and stick in me, even if they were tough enough to try.

So I sent the other one running back home to tell the rest to leave me alone. I don't know if it'll work, but at least they know I'm around and they won't bother my tutor any more. Besides, with me and my new friends, the old one-eyed man might get more than he bargained for when he comes after Loraan again. The spot where he blasted me still itches sometimes.

Anyway, after that we all got together at the dorm. Nasur (Oh, I found out that was his title and not his name. I can see you shaking your head at me calling him the wrong name all this time. Sorry.) wanted to have another party to try and calm everyone down from all the attacks and bad stuff that was happening.

He even hired a healer to fix up my tutor's face. I don't know what a healer can do for the rest of her, too, after what happened, but I hope she feels better. She seemed to a little happier after she got healed. Anyway, it was the nicest thing I've seen Nasur do, and I think maybe he may not be as Royal as he wants us all to think he is. He still sure likes to give orders, though. Luckily, he's usually pretty polite with me. Maybe it's because I'm friends with Loraan or something.

So it turned out the party wasn't a very good idea. We were upstairs in Nassur's room talking about where to go next and what we should do, meeting Nasur's new slave, or servant or something, when we got attacked by Serpent Rats. I've heard you talk to father about them, so you know what they are. We were pretty lucky that no one got bit too badly. We followed up onto the roof and found that there were some of those Boogeymen up there. They were with the bag that was trying to get Loraan. Viannoni and I were the only ones that could climb up to the roof, so we attacked them. Viannoni used her magic sword to shrivel the little monsters right up, while I destroyed the bag. I smashed it to bits, but then a big swarm of flies came out of it. The swarm made itself into a shape that looked like a man flying around. It wasn't really scary, just really strange. I threw my sword at it, it went through and broke up the thing up into a lot of flies that flew away.

After that, we decided that it might be good idea to move out of the dorm for a while.

Please write soon, it sounds like there are things happening back East and I'm curious about them.

-Kendrick (Signed with citizen seal)

Letter #5:

Mother,

This will probably be the least interesting letter I have written so far. Fortunately, that doesn't mean that nothing important has been happening to me. Actually, something happened to me that was so important that I'm not allowed to talk about it, because we might be in great danger if anyone finds out what has happened to me over the last few days.

I can't talk too much about it, because I've been asked by the people I'm working for not to, but I should be able to tell you a little. In my last letter, I talked about the house in the country we were exploring, remember? Well, we found it, and it was built up on a hill. The hill was made all out of soil from the Yin-Sloth jungles. It had also been enchanted somehow so that plants from the jungle could grow in the soil. Normally, they wouldn't have been able to survive here in the North, but somehow they were able to grow very healthy. There were trees and vines I had never seen before, but no animals, and that was kind of strange.

Anyway, while the others tried to get in the front door, I managed to work my way around the house. I found lots of weird stuff, including some mushroom-looking plants that dissolved into white slimy goop after you picked them, and poison ivy stalks as thick around as my waist! Furin tried some sort of Mind Mage trick at the door, and it left her woozy and too afraid to go inside. I thought she was just acting so she wouldn't have to go in, but later we found out she was right about thinking it was dangerous.

We went into the house and looked around in the basement first. We didn't really find anything, it just looked like the place had been abandoned for a lot longer than we knew it was. All the tools were rotted away and rusty, and there were bones on the floor, including human ones, that looked like they had been there a long time, too. The well was all covered in this slimy stuff, and Loraan and Nasur seemed to think it was weird that the water level was higher than the bottom of the hill, though that didn't seem too strange to me, since it was pretty obvious the whole placed was magicked somehow to make it like the jungle. After that, we went upstairs and looked around. The place was all rotten and completely falling apart, even though it had only been empty for two years. Loraan found the books he was looking for, and even some writing by the man who used to live in the house. It looked like he wanted to call an exorcist because something strange was happening, but he never got the chance. Whatever was in the house got to him and he ended up going insane and murdering his family, like Old Calvin the Cannibal out in the wilderness.

Anyway, we were looking around the library, when we heard the horses scream and start to gallop away. We ran outside as fast as we could, and found that Nasur's servant was missing. We ran after whatever it was that dragged him away, and chased it to the basement. We finally caught it, but it managed to get behind us and we almost got trapped in the basement. I can't say what it was, because that's one of the things I'm not supposed to talk about. But I can tell you that it was scarier than that time the ogre got in the barn, that time I fought the ghost, and that time I found the cart full of people they were chopping up for food. Nasur did some kind of time magic thing that almost got me killed, too. I hope Loraan can get him to not think we're all going to treat him like his servants do. I told him not to do that to me any more, and I think it got through to him. But I'm not sure.

Anyway, we finally managed to get out alive ourselves, but Nasur's servant didn't get out OK. They tried to save him with sorcery, but he died anyway. Sometimes it's just time to make mulch and there's no way around it, and he was really old, so the magic needed to work harder.. We got away and Furin tried to-do an exorcism on the thing, but that just made it mad, so we got on our horses and rode away, back to town. When we got there, Nasur marched into the land agent's office and pushed him around, even telling him he'd burn his house down if he didn't give him what he wanted. The guy was really scared, but he didn't give in, because he just couldn't do what Nasur wanted. Later, Nasur found out that the house was already owned by the University, since a professor lived there, or something like that, so he didn't need to buy it to get access to all the books in the library of the house. Anyway, the next day Master Salmon-Azer, the Dean from the School, and a Judge showed up at our hotel and thanked us for going to the house and finding the books. Because we fought the thing inside, they asked us to work for them full time, not just as Loraan's bodyguards. So now I'm working for the University all the time, and they made me a citizen of the West as part of the deal. I made sure that doesn't mean I lose my Eastern citizenship, too, but they told me I was fine. If this works out, I'm going to see if they will let me take a class at the school, so I can learn enough to read and write in Western, too, just like you and father. That's all I can say about it without stepping on a stick. I don't think I'll be able to visit anytime soon, but when I do I'll tell you the whole story.

Please write back soon.

-Kendrick (Signed with signature seal, including rune for citizenship)

Letter #4:

Mother,

My writing and reading going very well. My tutor says I should write you letters as often as possible to make sure that I keep practicing my writing. A lot has happened the last few days.

After the big party (with the murders, like I talked about last time) the Dean decided it would be best if Loraan didn't stay with the other students. It might have made things difficult if we he didn't have to go look at this house in the North part of the city.

We stopped for a little while in Red Hook at a bar called the 'Glass Bottle' or something like that. The Dwarf who runs it used to be a glass blower, and he had a big green bottle with an orc's face in it from when he hit one with a bottle he was blowing. It was pretty funny. He was really nice, and he actually knew how to prepare an Eastern breakfast, with a lot of food that fills you up for the day, not like how the city people eat, with little pastries that leave you hungry ten minutes later and that hot brew that makes you jittery and tastes awful. I really liked him, so I gave him some money to hold a room for me if I should eve need it. My job with Loraan might not last forever, and even if it does, it might not be too bad to have a bolt-hole to go to if things get too strange with all his enemies, like the little Ranger cabins in the Forest.

Speaking of Loraan's enemies, he actually seems to like his new student. It's probably because he's the son of one of the wealthiest families in the West, named Nasur Tarquin. I also think Loraan is happy to have someone he's supposed to watch out for, as opposed to us watching out for him. Nasur seems like a nice enough guy, though he's stuck up in that way that comes from learning everything out of a book. He has the best of everything: swords, clothes, horses, food. He really likes to throw his money around a lot. I don't mind, because I'm eating better than I have in a long time, but his slave that follows him around all the time makes me feel strange. He's an old man, like dad, but he does everything that Nasur tells him, like he's the youngest in the family. It's strange.

Before we left, we went clothes shopping. Nasur said we all had to dress up if we were going traveling. What he meant was if we were traveling with him., I think. Anyway, I never realized just how pretty Viannoni really is. She was changing into a dress, and as soon as she was in real clothes, not like the baggy pants and leather stuff she usually wears, I almost fell over when I saw her. I had to turn away, because I was sure I was blushing pretty bad. I don't think she saw me, though. Dad has said it was something like that when he met you. He's never talked much about it. When you write back, if you could tell me what he said to you that made you like him, I'd appreciate it. I know that

sounds silly, but I have no idea what to even say to just talk to her, because I get all tongue tied. It's embarrassing. Well, it's time for me to go to bed. We're staying at a small inn just North of the City. Everyone is making a fuss about how important Nasur is. I wish they'd all just let us eat and walk around without staring at us. Tomorrow we'll go to the house and check it out. The man who used to own it did a lot of work in the Yin-Sloth jungles. Maybe he'll have some pelts or plants around. I've always liked learning about new plants and animals.

I hope everyone is well. Please write back when you can.

<Signed with Seal>

 
Letter #3:

Mother,

This is my first letter since I found someone to help me learn writing. She is a student at the University and studies 'Eastern Culture'. It's a little strange to hear people talking about the way we live like it's another land, but then, to them I guess we are. Sometimes things are so complicated here I'm not sure if I belong. People talk and talk and talk and sometimes it seems like nothing ever gets done.

After we got back to the school from our rescue, Loraan and his teacher, who is an old man named Salmin-Azer convinced me that burning down the slaughterhouse was not the best thing to do. They think that if they talk to the right people, then the meat sellers will eventually go out of business, and if I burned it down, then I would get in trouble, even though they're the ones cutting people up and selling them as meat. This is what I mean by talking instead of doing. Actually, it was Viannoni who really convinced me. Not only is she the most beautiful girl I've ever met, but she's really smart. I always forget that she's a lot older than I am, because she looks so young. She said that if I burned that place up, then other places in Red Hook would burn too, and people would lose their homes. I didn't really care about the law getting mad at me. There are so many places to hide here that they would never ever find me if I wanted to hide, but I didn't want those people in Red Hook to suffer any more than they already are.

Any way, one of the new students had a party after we got back, and we went to it to try and relax while Viannoni went off and asked some questions in her old Neighborhood.

The party was fun. I taught some people some of our Ranger Games and they seemed to enjoy themselves. Everyone got a lot more drunk they we usually do. I think it's because they don't drink at all, then try to drink all at once. They have no tolerance.

Loraan got really drunk too and was pretty nasty to me. He's started calling me names and telling everyone I'm not very smart. I'm actually not smart like him, but if I weren't around he'd be dead (a couple of times) so I wish he'd realize that. I think maybe he doesn't like that he needs me to protect him, but he knows he does. His other bodyguard, that other elf, got so drunk she passed out and was asleep the whole night, totally neglecting her job. I don't know why Loraan keeps paying her, but now I definitely don't trust her.

Anyway, the next morning, we found out that two students had been murdered in Loraan's room by someone who thought that it was him. The dean (the old elf in charge of the school) has asked him to move out from his room, and he's pretty upset about it. I guess I can't blame him. He'll lose students if they don't think they're safe.

I hope everyone is well. Please write back to me when you can.

<Signed with signature seal, the first document I use it for...>

P.S. I have my own seal now, so I can sign contracts! A dwarf made it for me, and it was pretty expensive.

Letter #2:

Mother,

I have not been able to sleep very much lately, so I am writing you another letter. When father said that I would see things I couldn't even imagine in my dreams, I didn't think he meant nightmares. I know there were things he saw many years ago that he does not talk about. I need you to show this letter to him and see if he agrees with what I want to do.

We had all agreed to help Viannoni find her brother, so we went to visit her father, who was supposed to help us find him. He is an elf who is over 800 years old, and very wise. He greeted me using an Eastern handclasp, even though no one else seems to know what it is. He is a sorcerer who summons things. Both good and evil things. He explained to me how true names work. I don't understand it all, but I guess I have another name that is important if anyone wants to try to control me or hurt me with magic.

He was able to locate Viannoni's brother and he hired a mercenary to help us. The mercenary was a Wolf-N. He stood up and had hands like a man, but had fur all over and a head like a wolf, but he could talk fine. He was very big and strong. He used an axe that I could barely swing, let alone fight with. He knew we would be fighting ghouls that they called Dibook (I think).

The place we needed to go was a cattle yard in Red Hook. Red Hook is the poorest, worst place to live I've ever seen. The city watch doesn't patrol, and a lot of the people there live out in the streets, and pick through garbage for food. It's the worst place I've ever been, and I don't know why people keep living there. All my friends say it's because they have nowhere else to go, even though there's plenty of land outside the city. The whole time we were there, I just felt bad that these people had to live like this, and worse that no one else seemed to care, and that even my friends, who seem like good people, didn't seem to care either.

When we got to the slaughterhouse, we found Viannoni's brother, but we got attacked by a lot of ghouls. There was also a big ogre who looked like the butcher there. He had big dogs that he had trained to attack people, like they were ogres themselves. The other Elf, Furin, used some kind of magic to make them stop moving. She didn't have to use magic words like the one-eyed sorcerer did, she just looked at the things and they froze in place. She scares me a little, and she doesn't talk much. I'm not sure if we can trust her, but she hasn't done anything bad so far. I just don't know why she needs this job if she's already rich, which is what it looks like from the clothes she always wears, even when we're slopping around Red Hook.

So we fought the ghouls enough that we just managed to get the elf out of there and ran away from that terrible place. But before we left, I looked in one of the carts of meat, and there were dead people in it. They were cutting up and making people into meat. It was the scariest thing I've ever seen, including the time the Ogre got into the barn, and the time I fought the dead ghost that I told you about. We got out Okay, and I think that Vianonni is grateful I helped save her brother, but I keep having nightmares about those poor people all cut up in those carts. This kind of thing would never happen back East. There are so many people here that when a few are missing, no one important notices.

But the strangest thing was what happened when we got back to the old Elf's house. He summoned an Angel to help heal his son. It was beautiful, even more beautiful than Vianonni, even though it was a man and not a woman. It actually knew my name and told me that even though things would be scary and I'd want to quit and go home, if I didn't quit, I could do a lot of good. I didn't get a chance to talk to it myself, I was kind of scared of it, even though I knew it was friends with the Great Dragon.

Because I haven't been able to sleep without bad dreams much, I have done a lot of thinking. The city needs people to look out for the ones no one will. First, I want to get together with the Wolfen and burn that terrible place down. And then I am going to take my free time and money when I'm not guarding Loraan and try to help some of the people in Red Hook. I have another idea, but I don't know if I can do it. I'll tell you about it after I think more about it. I hope everyone is well. Please write back to me if you can.

Letter #1

Mother,

As you have asked, I am writing you letters. After I went to the library at the school here in Ashure, I had trouble reading a book they gave me. So hopefully this will help my writing and reading, too.

Like dad said, there is no place in the world quite like Ashure. I left from Arako on board a boat I found. The captain was named Vasily, and the boat was a big galleon. I took work from them, which made the voyage cheaper. The voyage went by fast and we weren't bothered by any pirates because the ship was so big.

When I got to Ashure, I was at the docks. I didn't know where to go, so I just started walking around. I found an inn where I could stay for only a few coppers. The innkeeper's name was Hamoo.

On my first day out in the city I went looking for work. I bought some yogurt from a vendor on the street for breakfast and it made me sick.

I went to a pub to use their outhouse, but there was an ORC at the door. I pulled out my sword and got ready to fight him, even though I probably would have lost because I was so sick. But I was lucky, because a man named LORAAN came up and told me the orc was actually working in the pub, as a guard. I was mighty surprised by that, but he was dressed nice and could talk and no one else seemed scared of him, so I went in. The lady who runs the pub is named Mrs. Nira and she was really nice to me. She talked Loraan into helping me find work. She also knew something about dad's sword, but I'll talk about that at the end.

I got to talking to Loraan and I learned he is a student at the big school. The school is so big it takes up a whole section of the city. He needed protection from someone because they wanted some book he had found, so he asked if I could do it. I said I could so he took me to meet his teacher to hire me.

On the way to his teacher's we got attacked in an alley by some bandits who were working for the guy who was after him. We managed to get away from them, and I got one of them. But then their leader appeared and shot me with a bolt of lightning from his hand. All the times I've seen the healer, and even that Orc Shaman, and some of dad's magic trinkets, I NEVER saw anything like that. I would have been cooked if I didn't have my armor on. Luckily, I didn't listen to the people in the town who told me it was too hot to wear it around.

Anyway, we got away from the sorcerer, and Loraan's teacher hired me for 100 SILVER a WEEK! I didn't expect to get such a good job so fast.

So Loraan took me to a Healer, and then to his room to meet his other two friends. They're both Elves, and they're the prettiest girls I've ever met. One is named Vainoni, and her brother got kidnapped by the guy who is after Loraan. The other is named Furin. I like Vainoni because she's not as snooty as Furin. But they both can fight, so I guess they're Okay.

Now Loraan is looking for something else. It's all pretty confusing, so I won't try to explain. The important thing is that I helped a lot when we got attacked by some kind of spirit. We were at the school, and these little gremlins who live in the tunnels under Ashure stole a bag that belonged to Loraan. They got away, but I killed the spirit creature with dad's sword. I think I was as surprised as it was that I could hurt it, because I've never been so scared in my entire life, even counting the time that Ogre got in the barn.

After that we went to the library, which was special because they only let students in. I found a book about the Dwarves that mentioned the dwarf who made dad's sword.

Please ask dad if he knows anything about Grimnor Ironbound, and if he can write down why the Dwarves gave him the sword, because he hasn't told me that story. If you send the letter on a ship to the school and address it to Loraan at the library, he should get it, since he works there.

  

A Glossary of Specific Verbal Use by the Rangers of Timoro
 

RANGER SLANG and definitions with a smattering of Eastern rural colloquialisms, which are also used freely by the Rangers of the Frontier (always spelled with a Capital letter) of the Timro Kingdom.

Make Mulch- A euphemism for death, usually applied only to those who die outside lying on the ground. It is not used in polite company, as it generally means the person's corpse experienced some rotting before burial, or was never found and so ended up 'making mulch' in the Wilderness. Can be used as a threat in a situation where it is appropriate.

Step on a Stick- To inadvertently reveal yourself to an enemy by clumsiness or ineptitude. In more modern times, has also come to be used when a novice or braggart reveals crucial information tot he enemy, effectively alerting the enemy to where the Rangers are or what they are planning.

Brunner- A hunt that last more than one full day when the quarry is an animal or non-intelligent monster. The hunt takes up Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but hopefully will provide same when caught.

Conrad- A long difficult, hunt that taxes a Ranger's ability to the fullest, always involving tracking an intelligent foe, usually a man, but sometimes a monster or demi-human. It typically also means the foe must be brought back ALIVE, always a far more difficult task than simply killing them. Named after Conrad, third Ranger Lord, who instituted the test of tracking another Ranger as the final requirement for earning a bow in training. Usually applied only when the foe is particularly sneaky or well-versed in your own tracking methods. (e.g. "Tracking down that bandit was a real Conrad. He eluded us all the way to the Iron Hills.")

Guard the Border (Border Guard)- To be left behind while others perform and important or dangerous task. A Border Guard is someone who lets his comrades go into danger while waiting for them to return when he could be being helpful. An insult that implies cowardice among Rangers.

Yessir- A slurring of the words "Yes, sir...", used as a slang term for any young Ranger who has more eagerness than experience(or, occasionally, competence). It takes some new recruits (especially those raised on farms in traditional families) a little while to get used to the idea of treating men many years their senior as peers, and until they manage it, they are referred to as Yessirs. A term used to describe Kendrick during his first year or so as a Ranger.

Longbeard- Refers to an old man who has seen and learned more than anyone else around. Longbeard is a term used by dwarfs (and adopted by Rangers) to refer to their leaders, implying they have lived long enough to graduate from working the forges, where their beards are constantly singed short, to the more esoteric pursuits normally reserved for elves and human scholars. Generally implies a little bit of addled wits along with all the learning. Can be somewhat condescending from a youngster still working the forge himself, but is usually meant as a term of affectionate respect for the knowledge the oldster has lived to accumulate. (Rangers tend to be clean-shaven as it keeps insects out of their hair and beards, and is a ritual for retaining civilization while on the Frontier.)

Grown a Beard- Generally gone to seed or let oneself go. See 'Longbeard' for more detail.

Dragon Patrol- A tradition among the Rangers since the first Ranger Lord. When a Ranger senses (or is told by an alchemist or Healer) that his time is near, he goes on a Last Hunt. He says good-bye to his family and friends, takes his equipment, but no food or water, and leaves into the Frontier to go look for a Dragon. None have ever returned from a Dragon Patrol, though the Ranger's version of Heaven involves a long, treacherous journey to the legendary Mountaintop home of the Dragons, where the old Ranger is welcomed by them and passes out of this Realm and into theirs. If a Rangers body is found in the wilderness by a Patrol, is traditional to stand him up against a tree facing the Frontier with his sword drawn, so that his spirit may continue the Patrol. It is considered Treason to disturb (or assist...) any Ranger on a Dragon Hunt, and punishable by expulsion from the Corps, or even Death, depending on the transgression.

RANGER UNIT Descriptions- Any single Ranger is referred to as a Scout, regardless of his actual job. FIVE Rangers make up a Hand, with the Leader, always appointed as appropriate to the mission (No Rangers have any Rank per se, with the sole exception of the Ranger Lord. This was a legal stratagem hit upon by much earlier Rangers to assure that no one could challenge an individual Ranger's decision by appealing to higher-ranking Ranger, as they had seen happen far too often among the Knights of the Kingdom). It is understood that the other Rangers will act as a team, and are free to improvised on orders as a Patrol requires. However, once ANY blood is shed during a Patrol, the other Rangers in the Hand are required to follow his orders without question until all weapons are sheathed. Missions are always referred to as Patrols, no matter their intended purpose. Five Hands make up a FIST, the largest gathering of Rangers any Easterner typically sees in their lifetime. The FIST leader is chosen by the five HAND leaders who never, ever volunteer to be the Leader through centuries of tradition. Any situation requiring more than 25 Rangers usually requires an army of same. The entire Corps, which is what the body of the Rangers is referred to, is split into two Wings, divided roughly into the Eastern and Western portions of the Frontier. Any group of Rangers gathered in one place where they can not all be reasonably expected to be able learn each other's names in a day is referred to as a Wing. (John: Kendrick has never seen a Wing of Rangers before, but understands all this terminology). Any WING is always led by the Ranger Lord himself. The entire Corps had rarely been mustered at once. No matter how dire the situation, it is tradition to leave ONE Ranger guarding every major pass into the Frontier, though it is understood he is NOT to fight should an Army come riding through unexpectedly, but to live to pass information on to the Kingdom.

The Ranger Lord is appointed by the old Ranger Lord when he goes on his Dragon Patrol. His appointment is voted on by as many Rangers as are able to vote, a simple majority of 'Yea' votes is all that is required. To be selected as a Runner to gather votes is considered a great honor, as it involves breakneck-fast speed travel throughout the entire kingdom (and often beyond). It is understood that the appointee will vote 'Nay', signifying his understanding of the importance of the position and reluctance to accept it. (Kendrick voted in an election just after he received his bow, and had never met the man appointed, though he voted for him because he was assured by his instructor that he was a good choice...)

The Longbeard (leader) of the Dwarven Militia is an honorary Ranger, as is the Prince of Timro Kingdom, as are several of the leaders of the households of the Western Empire. (Kendrick is not really clear on the these politics). The Ranger Lord is also an honorary member of the Dwarven Militia, a Knight of the Realm, and known as the 'Enemy Strong Enough to Lead Us' among the Ogres.

There ARE women in the Rangers. This is a fairly recent occurrence, as tradition (though not written law, as with the Knights of the Kingdom) kept women out of the Corps. When the first woman actually applied to the Corps, the current Ranger Lord could find no reason to refuse her, so she entered camp, passed, and was given a bow. Her name was Callista Conradette, a descendent of Conrad himself. Since then, any spirited young woman who enters the corps is referred to as a 'Callista'.

 

The Training of Kendrick Franklinson

 

Somewhere in the Northern region of the Timro Kingdom, several years ago:

 

Blade Training: Hank Smithson, Order of the Eagle

"Alright, Founderson, you're stuck in the wilderness. You're halfway up Mount Steelhaven, in point of fact. There's no food or water in sight. You're naked as a tree nymph and you can only carry one thing down the side of the mountain with you. What is it?"

"Water, sir. You can only live a couple days without it."

"Not a bad thought, but, WHOOPS! here come a Rock Troll, and your sword is sitting up the side of the mountain. You are DEAD!!! But at least you didn't die thirsty."

"All right, Franklinson, we'll go easy on you. You've gotten lost just a couple miles from home. You're in the woods. Your sword is back at the farm. What's the one thing from your pack you take?"

"Um, probably my lodestone, cause I'm only a couple miles from home, and it'll point the way for me"

"Well, mister woodsman, that's great. The lodestone works like a charm and leads you right to the barn, where you find that Ogre you're always going on about, and you're DEAD!!!"

"I see light dawning in even the dimmest of your eyes, now, so I won't bore you. No matter what that half-blind orcsniffer tells you, remember, your sword is what keeps you alive. And if you lose your sword, give away your life before you give away your hatchet. If you can keep those thoughts in what others might call a brain, you may live to be my age and get to try and teach it to another bunch of saplings like you!"

"Okay, here's your weapon. Say hello to it, and give it a name. NOW! YOU, FRANKLINSON, what is the name of your WEAPON?"

"It's my father's, it doesn't have a name"

"Well, if it's not important enough to have a name, Franklinson, maybe you should BRING IT BACK HOME TO YOUR DADDY, FRANKLINSON! IF IT'S NOT YOUR WEAPON WHY ARE YOU CARRYING IT AROUND LIKE IT IS?!?"

"Because it IS my weapon, and I call it 'Gift of the Dwarves'!"

"A regular piece of history. Now you, Tailorson"

 

 

"The knights would call what you're using longswords. Unlike them, we allow everyone to use their own weapon, long as it's within 6 inches of standard length and two pounds of standard weight. Grip is one hand with a pommel that you can use for leverage like so if you need to get the blade around fast. Now, you three are with me 'cause you're left handed. Now, the Horse and Lance contingent don't let you fight that way, but since the orcs and Trolls set their lairs up to defend that way, we like to be able to surprise 'em if we need to. That's why you lot get extra blade training instead of extra twanging sessions."

"Now, you've seen we don't carry our swords around on our hips like the gentlemen who live in the castle do. If any of them ever ask you why you got your weapon strapped to your back, ask him if he's ever had to climb a tree with his scabbard on. If he says no, then just shake your head and suggest he try it sometime. It's always good for a laugh. Oh, yeah, and since most of the greenwarts we're fighting are taller than the average Ranger, even you, Franklinson. If you can manage to call up that Ogre you keep going on about, you'll recall he was about 7 foot, and he was a runt, trust me. When you've got a 25 pound club coming at your head, you want your weapon where it'll do some good, not down holding your pants up."

"You've all learned the standard draw, half up, roll over the shoulder, and into cross guard. We all use soft sheaths instead of scabbards, so they'll give when you pull your blades. Means you gotta be careful putting 'em back, though, or you end up like Cut-his-own-throat Cobblerson from five years ago.

(NOTE: Every Ranger eventually learns that 'Cobblerson' doesn't exist, except to scare Scouts.)

"Now, let's pair off and take a few swing at each other."

 

 

Hand Axe: William Jonathan Millerson, known as 'Proper Bill'

"Welcome, Scouts, welcome. I'm here to teach you how to use the most useful piece of equipment you own. Now, I realize you have all just come from Ranger Smithson's marvelous training course on blades. I have nothing but respect for Ranger Smithson. In fact, Franklinson, could you hand me your blade a moment?"

"Um OK, here you go."

"Goodness me, that was easy, thank you. Now suppose I'm actually a changeling and I've just taken your sword and I'm going to try to kill you with it. What might you do?"

"Well, I suppose I'd have to try and get my sword back."

"Now there's some ingenuity at work. Okay, come and get it back."

Several minutes later:

"This doesn't seem to be working out for you, does it, Franklinson? Be sure and talk to the Herbalist about those cuts before you tent down this evening. Okay, let's give our first volunteer a rest, shall we? Here, Garrickson, take my blade and you try to keep it away from me the same way I did from Franklinson."

There is a brief pause as Garrickson takes the blade and stands at crossguard. Instead of trying to come at him, the instructor simply reaches around his back, grabs his hand axe, and with a flick of the wrist, spangs it off his own relinquished blade, knocking the sword about ten feet behind the startled Scout. A second axe appears in his hand, and, before the startled scout can react, the grey-haired Ranger takes three steps and taps the young man on the chest with the back of the axehead.

"Sorry, Garrickson, but your lungs are now taking in air rather more directly than the Great Dragon intended."

"Gentlemen, please do not think of your blade as your only weapon. I will concede that in most circumstances it is your most effective means of defense, but please do not come to rely upon it exclusively. For the moment you do is the moment you will find that you have dropped it, broken it, or handed it to someone you thought you could trust, but suddenly realized you couldn't." "What you hold in your hand is a standard Ranger corps issue short handle utility axe. You will notice it is made of steel, rather than iron. This makes it more expensive to produce, but happily prevents it from rusting or breaking in the hopefully harsh conditions it will be exposed to over what will hopefully be the course of many patrols. Those among you unlucky enough to have been born without the use of your right hands will need to reverse what I am showing you now"

"You will find that your utility axe is balanced in a manner conducive to throwing it. Please do not do so frivolously. Properly executed, it can take even the most sanguine opponent off guard. Hold it loosely like so, raise it slightly and then bring your arm up and out, ending it straight out as you snap your wrist slightly, just so <Whippity whippity THUNK!!!> It will take you all some time to strengthen the muscles required for this technique, but once you do, your axe will fly remarkably straight and true, assuming you practice adequately. Which, coincidentally enough, is what we are about to do right now"

 

 

A Ranger Drinking Song*

One night I was out
Patrolling about
As far from my camp as could be.
 
When I heard a sound
So I crept around
The base of a very large tree.
 
<WHAT WAS IT?>
 
And what should I spot
But a lass in a pot
About to be boiled for stew
 
<OH NO!>
 
She said, "It's so hot,
The stew in this pot"
And then I knew what I should do.
 
SO I
 
Lifted the pot and drained every last drop
Because that's what a Ranger should DO!
 
LIKE THIS! <Quaffs down beer in one chug as other Rangers cheer!>

 

<Traditionally, another Ranger takes up the second verse and so on, using the basic structure of the song to create another tall tale, preferably taller than the last, perhaps like this>

 

One night I was out
Patrolling about
as far from my camp as could be.
 
When I heard a splash
And though it was rash
I jumped in the lake just to see
 
<What WAS IT?>
 
And what should I make out
But a hundred foot trout
Swimming there plotting our doom
 
<OH NO!>
 
He started upstream
A fisherman screamed
and that's when I knew what to do
 
SO I
 
Drank that whole lake until my thirst was slaked
Because that's what a Ranger should do
 
LIKE THIS!

<Generally, this is repeated for effect until the beer is gone, or no one offers to try a new verse. Typically, whomever is the last Ranger able to actually string together a full verse and finish his beer without falling over is declared the finest Scout in the patrol that night.>

*as taught to Hasmir and Azaz by Kendrick.

 
 
Excerpts from

Gardening in Hell:

Life as One of the Red Hook Green Thumbs

by Master Hezraab Bethdira

as told in this Chapter by Sahali Binzaal

 

<Indignantly> Of course I remember that day. All of us do. He saved our lives that day. Or started to, at least.

Now some of my old friends will tell wild stories, but that's because they don't remember too well any more, and given what eventually happened, all the stories that have been told since then, it can be hard to remember how it all started.

The days before blur together in my mind. It was so long ago. But I remember one thing. No, two. We were hungry. Always hungry. The mercy wives tried so hard, and that elf, who should have looked so young, worn under the weight of a burden his kind was never meant to bear. They tried to keep us fed. But we were always hungry.

And the other was that we were bored. We were still young enough that there was some light left in our eyes. We hadn't been crushed by the knowledge that our lives meant nothing, not the emperor, not to the mercy wives, really, they were just helping us because it was better than lying down in the street and dying, and not even each other, because in just a few years we would be killing each other, because it was less boring than laying down in the street to die. We could have ended that way, at least. Oh, some us still did, despite what he did for us. But I will never doubt that he saved my life that day. Not right away, of course, and it took me a long time to realize it, but oh, yes, that's what he did.

Of course, I don't remember how old I was, I don't even know now how old I am. My mother went to Kur and back making me, and my father had been beaten to death for a shekel he found while drossing in the sewers. He was foolish to have told anyone about it, but that was life in the Hook at that time. So I was part of the brood that were housed in the house of the mercy wives. It was supposed to have been named after the Emperor who set it up a thousand years before, but our copy of the 'Lineage of the Law of the Age of Man' had been borrowed and never returned about 950 years previous < Laughs...>, so we just called it 'The Roof', because that was the places most important feature as far as we starving, desperate children were concerned.

Oh, yes, you're right, I am getting a bit off the topic, aren't I? I'm so sorry. The long years have a way of making you forget that you had older children teaching you how to keep the serpent rats from eating your eyes when you slept. We would paint false eyes onto each others eyelids with charcoal before we slept! Isn't that amazing? The rats would sit there in the dark all night waiting for us to sleep, but finally go elsewhere when our eyes failed to close!

<Long Laughter>

Oh, yes <still chuckling>, he thought that was the strangest thing he had ever seen...

But that day, that day he arrived. He had something wrong with his feet. We were fascinated with him the moment we saw him, for several reasons. The first was that he was so... big. He was built like no one in Red Hook, that was for certain. Only one or two of us had ever seen a warrior, and the oldest one of us, his name was Jahadra, I think, he said quite emphatically that the man was definitely a warrior, and then pointed out to us that he had a rather large sword strapped to his back in a most unusual manner.

He was walking gently, as if his feet were hurting. Of course, we were afraid of him at first. Even the young learn very quickly in the Hook that the more interesting a stranger is, the more likely he will do you some harm. So it was not until the elf announced that here was one of the men that had helped save him from the clutches of his kidnappers did we come closer to him to learn more about him. When we approached, he did something we had very little experience with.

He smiled.

Now, we also knew that a smile meant a stranger was definitely up to no good, but being young and more curious than smart, we were mesmerized, all of us, by his marvelous, amazing, wonderful... teeth.

<Laughs for a long time...>

We had never seen teeth like them at the time. They were white, and straight, and when he smiled, they shone like diamonds in his mouth. <Smiles and looks away> Many years later, I realize how foolish and silly it is to remember that about him so vividly but at the time, it was a wonder.

The elf encouraged us, when he saw that this stranger would not harm us, and indeed, seemed to want to answer all of our silly questions. He did not tell us then the story of what happened on that terrible say when he rescued the elf, that would come later. But he talked to us. And when he was done answering our questions, assuring us that he was in fact a warrior, and that he came from a land far to the east where there were more trees than people, and we showed him how to properly wear sandals <pauses to reflect and smiles...> though I think now he may have been humoring us with that! He got up to leave, and we asked him if he would return, desperate for him to say yes, but knowing that, like most things of any real interest in our lives, he would leave us bored and hungry again. But he said he would.

<Smiles again, brightly>

And damn my soul to Kur if he was not as good as his word!

He told us all that he had a plan, that he had thought of while throwing battle axes in a barn with a group of Dwarven explorers. We believed every word of it. Later, I realized he must have been exaggerating, a story to keep us amused, but he had a way of doing that, of saying the most outlandish things and making them sound perfectly plausible... <Affects approximation of Eastern Frontier accent> "Oh, yeah, I just caught some neco-ro-mancers tryin' ta steal our turnips. Had to chase 'em all the way to the Yin-Sloth jungles to get 'em back. Sorry there's no greens, they sacrificed 'em to their jungle god before me my friends caught up with 'em".

<Laughs hysterically, tears flowing down face>

Oh, my. <Recovering> But that's how he was.

On that first day, he went to an old lot that had been abandoned for about 800 years, as far as anyone could tell. Somewhere he managed to find and make some terribly run-down garden implements, and he began to clear the lot.

It was so simple. If he had asked us to help, we would have realized it was work and refused. But he never did, he simply began, using an axe from that backpack it seemed he never took off. And since we had decided he could be trusted, we were allowed to be curious about what he was doing. Curiosity turned to questions, and questions turned to our first tentative steps down the Green Path.

The first week was hard, but it was so different from anything we had done, any objections to the labor we might have had were swept away by our desire to see what would happen.

And soon we had cleared that lot. And in that week, he spun a tale of how the lots would eventually bloom, grow, and there would be food to feed us, our friends, and our families. I think the poor man never truly understood how unlike him we were. But in the end, I think that was the reason he tried so hard. He did not believe that we were hopeless, that we could not be saved. So he actually tried, with a foolish hope of success that spurred him on, even in the time when we told him he should just give up on us, that it was too late for any of us.

Yes, the first week I remember most vividly. He worked every day in that sun, and it seemed that the more he worked, the happier he was. He told us that it reminded him of home, that it made him feel like his trip hadn't been a waste.

<Pauses, looks away again>

Of course all my own hopes were dashed when the elf's sister, Vinonni, came by to visit him. He introduced us all to her, so politely, but it was obvious to all of us that he was completely smitten with her. We teased him about it, the girls much more harshly than the boys, I think, because we were so terribly jealous... (blushes) and she was obviously so beautiful, though she tried to hide it, as all of us did as soon as the vermin on the corners started to notice us

<Spits on floor>

But he denied it, of course, told us she was sought by one of much greater means than he, and that besides, she was older than him, so it wasn't right anyway and could we get back to work, please?

< laughs>

And it was also obvious from the way he greeted his only other visitor that week that he was the 'man of means'. He arrived on horseback, and was so obviously of noble extraction that we were immediately wary. More than one of us had had relatives crushed beneath the hooves of horses like that, and the huge bearded monster riding with him, eyes scanning for the next one of us to cut down, was no comfort, either!

The nobleman tried to be nice, but despite what the Gardener said, we knew he would have us all put to the sword if he thought we would so much as inconvenience him.

<Smiles>

After the Gardener was done talking to him, about some matter of politics, I think, the older ones among us resolved that we would need to make sure the Gardener would be safe from his obviously sinister companion, so we started a collection to hire an assassin should the nobleman prove to be a danger to Kendrick <Smiles brightly>. We were so young that we had not the slightest idea how he was, or that the fact of who he was would have made the assassin's fee astronomical!

<Laughs>

Looking back, I think we suddenly realized that we had actually committed an unselfish act, vowing to give the almost nothing we had to protect another person.

And I also now realize that was when my life was saved. And it only took week.

<Pauses, holding back tears><Regains composure before continuing>

Of course, at the end of the week, we had cleared fields, which the Gardener said we had to wait to plant in. And he was off to help his Dwarven explorer friends and his scholar friend explore the ruins under the city. Yes, that was it. But, I'm tired now, all this memory makes me... light-headed. Tomorrow I'll tell you about the planting. Yes, tomorrow.

<Motions for her servants to help her to bed...>

<Transcription note: Alas for the continued narrative of this Chapter, Miss Binzaal died in her sleep that night. She was found the next morning by her servants not in her bedroom, but outside in her Garden, laying peacefully in between the staked rows of tomatoes, clutching a spade in her hand. Per her request, her body was returned to Ashure and buried in the spot where the first Red Hook Gardens were planted.>

 
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