G88 Carousing and Intersession

Carousing and Inter-session page for G88: Ruins of Thelchineau Manor

Audrey Carcassonne

"Awve gat a noice stairdy speer for yah," came the voice, over the marketplace din.

"Excuse me?" The faithful to Seff paused. Before her stood what looked like a blacksmith's apprentice, large fat face scarred either with constellations of picked and broken acne or the burns from sparks of overzealous heating.

"Yeh speer. Ain't got nothin' on this wan, dollie."

Here he was, trying to form a mound at his crotch through his thick leather apron. All around, the teeming Glantrian square was happily ignorant of his advances.

Audrey blinked in shock. A farmer's girl, she wasn't shy to the rutting realities of members of the sexes of various species, but what was unknown was the impertinence of a random stranger. (Alas, it normally came from one's aristocratic betters.)

With a flash, the one good spear on the scene was rising in the air. A slim girl, Audrey was, not built for strength; but rather speed and sturdiness, despite a lack of might. Above the grinning, randy maw of the apprentice was a rounded, red, honking nose.

This became a crater of leaking, spraying blood, and meaty hands flying over to cover the intense pain.

"Count yourself lucky you didn't find the pointed end in your face, boy," said the Spearmaiden, although likely several years younger than the howling heap before her.

She didn't make it far. The watch came, protecting the peace. The blacksmith screamed bloody murder, fit to overcome the embarrassment of his hulking lad demolished by this light-footed wench. Audrey, meanwhile, stood placidly by, expecting the truth to bear her out. She was right: "Haw! Haw! You should have picked some other doxy than a maiden of Seff to whistle at, my little prince!" the watchman laughed.

Audrey is buying parcels and gifts to return to Danton, her village in west Cuarenze, to offer a small taste of the world's imported silks and sundries, to accessorize or taste, to her sisters and mother back home. For her brother and father, she has bought a set of sharpening tools for the steading wrapped in a little frivolity of their own.

I intend this to count as a town carouse — the money should be considered spent on the trip. Buying a horse, paying tolls, and giving most of the expense of the carouse to the family as an outright gift.

Audrey turns back towards the smithy, hoping that her opponent had been a cooper’s charge, or a stonemason’s. The expression on the blacksmith’s face said otherwise. “You bloody my boy, and I’m s’posed to smile and say thanks? Go on! You got no business here.”

“I think,” replies a stranger’s voice, “she has one thing left to do.” The tone of authority stops several passers-by, and one of the watchmen halts and turns, stifling a laugh. A tall woman with three thick silver braids emerges from the crowd, and scrutinizes the young spearmaiden with hard, gray eyes. She is clad in a sturdy leather tunic, but a glint of light and metallic rustle betray armor beneath. “No spares? I suppose you owe me a spear.” She produces an iron spearhead and places it in Audrey’s open hand. A few moments later she has untied some ribbons of green, gold, and deep blue from one braid, and knotted them to the socket of he spearhead. She looks at Audrey expectantly. The smith interjects, “This is no country road, and my boy’s no bandit! You don’t dare!” With a sigh and a half-smile, the woman takes the spearhead from Audrey’s hands and walks up face-to-face with the shouting smith. There is a slight crunch of wood as she jams the spearhead into the doorpost of the smithy. “Seff has seen this place, smith.”

The woman escorts Audrey away behind a small chorus of giggles, and introduces herself as Flecheur Belgarde, a veteran spearmaiden. Audrey struggles to guess Flecheur’s age, but is reluctant to ask. The elder spear offers a brief tutorial on the traveling ways of the Chosen of Seff, telling of waymarkers festooned with spearheads and describing the marks and sigils that identify friendly houses and temples on the road. After an afternoon together, Flecheur suggests an alternative to the suddenly-unfriendly blacksmith: “I’ll travel with you as far as Touraine. I know a smith there that will give us run of his forge. Your money will buy new coats for your folks in the city, but the sweat of your brow will buy their tools. Seff smiles on sacrifice, spearmaiden!”

Audrey rolls a 4 on 1d6, and a 16 for her saving throw. She earns the respect of the city watch and gains a friend and mentor in Flecheur. Audrey leaves Touraine with a gift of winter furs and new tools for her family in Caurenze. After the clothing and recompensing the smith, she is still able to make a gift of 100 some-odd gold coins to her family. All told, Audrey spends 400g, and gains 400xp.

Cut Coutelain

In anticipation of the Company's triumphant return to the Chateau, Cut offers to buy Blondie Billyup a pony and introduce him to "the life". That is, he'll take him out drinking in Malinbois before instructing him to mind the lodge.
Cut rolls a 6 on 1d6, and a 5 for his saving throw.

Hamish "the Dim" Van Pelt

After spending several months in the company of his devoted fanatics — a motley collection of derelicts, convicts, and the insane — Hamish grew concerned for the plight of the common man in an unjust and unfeeling autocratic society. The fire in his belly was further acerbated by some pamphets that he found in the privvy of the Red Ram Inn, in which he found a searing tract decrying the decadant Glantrian bourgeois. His recent encounter with the depraved House Thelchineau and the death of his man Eames, the donkey-headed, only served to hammer the point home to the troubled holy man.

Upon returning to his room at the Red Ram, he has Lem, his trusted acolyte, transcribe the following letter:

crossedSwordsSm.jpg

From the desk of Hamish Van Pelt
High Vicar of the Holy Church of the Boss
and Ranking Chaplain, Company of Crossed Swords

The Tower of the Boss
1 Chateau Road
Malinbois, GL

January 10

The Torchbearers
2307 Owlbear Way
Glantri City, GL

Dear Mssrs. Fowler and "Big" Finn,

I would be false if I did not admit that contacting you puts me in a dire state of personal conflict. For years, we have been the fiercest of competitors in the ongoing search for gold and glory. Although there have been many a night in which I cursed your name, I pledge that ours has been a friendly rivalry, which is why I come forward with this modest and sensible proposal.

If your organization is anything like ours — and I am sure that it is — you find yourself regularly taking jobs at the behest of the Glantrian noble houses. Although these projects do have their rewards, the ability to bargain fairly is hampered by the fact that one side of the party has absolute authority over the laws of the land while the other is represented as mere commoners. Fairness rarely enters the conversation when one is doing business with his judge, jury, and executioner.

I would argue that this need not be the case. As trained reclamation and salvage specialists, we offer a unique array of goods and services including but not limited to goods recovery, monster extermination, wayfinding, and excavation. To the best of my knowledge, the bulk of the city's goods and service providers are organized into guilds. For example, if you may recall that the Vitner's Guild held the city hostage for two days by withholding wine from our besotted lords until they were paid their proper due… with interest!

We may not have wine on our side, but since the members of our respective organizations constitute a small army of conflict-hardened mercenaries and street-savvy thugs, we're in an exceptionally good position to bargain for our collective rights.

If you are interested in pursuing this discussion further, I propose a tête-á-tête between ranking representatives from each organization. The time and location may be at your choosing.

I look forward to your response.

Sincerely yours,

Hamish Van Pelt
High Vicar of the Holy Church of the Boss
and Ranking Chaplain, Company of Crossed Swords

Transcribed and rewritten by J. "Lem" Lemon, Ranking Priest of the Boss

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