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rosiethebarbarian · 7 years ago

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Year 366. Sledgefield. First entry.

It’s been exactly six months since I left home, and Slegdefield is the probably the biggest shit hole in all of Calandria. And I’m probably actually being generous.

I arrived in Sledgefield with that sack of shit Grimweald’s and his caravan a week ago, and apart from the tavern, there’s less than nothing to do here. Grimweald was heading back the way we came after he unloaded everything in the quarry, and as I had no desire to go backwards nor continue being in the presence of that stinking skeeverbutt, I’ve been waiting here for… something to happen, I guess. There’s no work of interest, not even a good brawl in the tavern to break up the monotony before the lord’s guards come running in and breaking it all apart. This town’s filled with milk-drinkers, and they’ve all more or less gotten any sort of fight beaten out of them. I can’t tell if it’s because of the ominous expansions of the quarry, or the fact that this town is less town than it is work camp.

I bartered for a set of leather-working tools from the main merchant in town, but there are very few hunters who come into town to trade leather for anyone other than the quarry foremen, who so far have not been very keen to speak with me. Thankfully no one seems particularly inclined to try to force me to work in the quarry with the other… slaves? Labourers? I’ve only seen humans so far here.

Well, except for today. A halfling arrived sometime this morning, bringing dried mutton from somewhere up north. It had been too long since I’d had some real dried mutton. It was almost too stale to eat, but I was determined. It took me almost twenty minutes to talk the halfling down from his ridiculous prices to something far more reasonable. Something about my size probably did the trick in persuading him to back off.

There was a singing human in the middle of the square, and while I’d never noticed him before, I sure noticed him now because of what happened right then. So I was just putting the mutton in my rucksack when, with a huge sudden bang, a MASSIVE freaking smelly mud-stained giant goat burst from the tavern (reducing much of it to rubble.) Now, while the giant goat was remarkable enough, it was also being ridden by a goblin wearing a recognizable goblin chieftain crown. As the goblin king and his goat burst into the town square from the tavern rubble, they crashed straight into the singing human in the middle of town, sending him flying off. It was pretty impressive. Right after, I noticed three or four goblins running out of the rubble towards the goat and its king, trying to subdue it.

A bunch of humans ran towards the goat, trying to calm it down. I decided to join them, but the goat slipped from our grasp and with a great kick of its hind legs it practically leapt right out of the village, past the worker tents and down the hill, just out of sight. Followed closely where the other goblins, who were shrieking in their language.

That’s when I noticed a very, very old dwarf. Her beard was so long it dragged on the dusty ground, and she walked over to the human singer that had been hit in the chest, leaning on a giant dwarves hammer as she hobbled over. She grabbed an old, ornamental canteen and shoved it in the human’s face. “Here’s some ale. It will help with what ails you,” the dwarf spoke out in Common.

Grooooaaaan.

The innkeeper and the tavern staff were being pulled out of the rubble by villagers, and I was looking around to try to figure out if anyone knew where the goblins and goat had come from, when a tall human wearing extremely polished plated armour rode into the town square, followed by a gangly looking child who was probably his squire.

The knight yelled out to all of the folks assemble in the square: “Ten gold pieces to whoever brings back that beast!!!”

All right! I had goosebumps on my neck and a huge grin on my face. Time to get some fighting done! Plus—that goat? Looked frickin’ delicious!

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rosiethebarbarian · 7 years ago

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Year 366. The shores of Hillriver and the journey to the city of Highwater. Fourth entry. Part One.

{Author’s Note: I fucked up and mixed up verb tenses at the start of this. Will go back and fix it when I’m less knackered.}

I can’t remember if we’ve been walking for nine or ten days from Sledgefield to the shores of Hillriver. There’s a group of us who’ve been walking in the wilderness. There’s the elf, Ereven, who wields a bow. Then there are the two humans. One’s a mage, called Liayra, and the other is a tattooed pirate we call Agosto. There’s the cleric, an old bearded dwarf called Hildur who stinks of ale and wine. I met those four in Sledgefield, and they were with me when we met Robert Orn, who tasked us with a job down south at the ruined pirate town Highwater. One the road we were joined by a gnomish wizard called Stret, or Strep, or Sleps, I can never remember his name. He’s only been with us a short while. And then yesterday we ran another gnome who is called Jee Tung, and that brute of his who follows him around. They say that he’s a bodyguard, but he’s always drunk, and not doing much guarding.

I don’t really know why we accepted to bring along Jee Tung and his wastrel of a bodyguard, but it seems to have been Ereven’s idea, that idiot. At least Ereven and the others, Agosto, Hildur, even the mage Liayra all pull their weight in battle. Two gnomes and a brute just spell trouble, and too large a crowd will attract bandits, or worse. We already had a run-in yesterday with a bunch of assholes, though I did pick up a nice scimitar from one of the corpses for our trouble.

And now, where are we? On the cool shores of Hillriver. We’ve been following the shore for a long while, and tonight we made camp on the bank itself, in full view of the glow of Highwater across the river. There are ships in the water, at least six in total, and we can even see the castle towers, or what’s left of them, even in the dusk light. Agosto earlier as Ereven was making a fire told us about the schooners and sloops out there. One ship had a flag he recognized, even at this distance. It was the flag of a ship called the Painted Doom, under command of the dread Captain XiaChi’el. Agosto had a grim face as he shared that detail with us. Unfinished business, is my best guess.

We fell asleep, forgetting to set a watch rotation, but it ended up not mattering. The night was uneventful. I slept with my back against an old rock, my legs along the cool sand. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but I rolled my pack in my cloak as a pillow behind my head, and it helped avoid too much soreness in the morning.

In the morning two things of note happened. Jee Tung irritably remarked that the gnome mage Slips had vanished with the night (typical—I double-checked my coin purse just in case, though nothing was missing). The second thing is that Liayra was looking at us with a serious guilty face, and admitted that during the night she awoke to see a small rowboat cross the river, carrying people across Hillriver and away from the pirate hub of Highwater. I was pretty furious but kept my mouth shut. She should have woken the group up, but instead she went off on her own to talk to the smuggler and the people! By herself! Far enough away from the rest of us that none of us woke up! Seriously irresponsible behaviour. Shit like that, well, it’s going to get her killed.

We packed up camp off the shores of Hillriver. We’re heading west for a bit, towards a place called Floodtown. We need to find a way across the river out of sight from the pirates. Which means a lot more walking. A lot.

Our day of walking was cut short. Hidden in a copse of trees just on the shoreline was a tiny cabin, perfectly nestled between birch trees. We approached it in silence, and I went ahead to get a look through one of the windows. Through the shutters an old man was sleeping, the fire in the hearth had burned down. Agosto and Ereven checked the shore, where there was a camouflaged dock and a rowboat we would all fit on. Across the shore and behind us to the east we could just make out the smoke rising above the silhouette of Highwater. This was as good a place to cross the river as any, I thought. Ereven examined the boat. It was sturdy enough even to hold myself and the brute accompanying Jee Tung. I proposed we stole the boat, though I was ignored. Ereven went to the front door and knocked. The old man came out swinging an ancient, cracked club, but he paused when he saw Liayra. “Oh, it’s the creepy lady and her friends,” the old man grumbled. I had to stop myself from laughing out loud.

We talked a bit, and turns out this old man is a smuggler. He agreed to carry us over the river after nightfall, but only for the price of 6 gold. We decided to each donate some gold to the crossing, but Jee Tung got agitated, and told us that their deal was “if we could bring them to Highwater, they would take care of getting us into the castle” — paying river tolls wasn’t in Jee Tung’s interest. We agreed to pay his share of the toll. We talked with the old smuggler as we waited for the day to pass. We were all a little wired, I think, watching the sun move through the sky.

The smuggler had a wealth of information. There are five major factions in Highwater. Agosto was right about the Painted Doom under control of XiaChi’el. Then there is Iron Eye Mark, of the Grey Devils, who currently occupy what is left of Highwater Castle. There’s also Brav’ the Singer, of his ship the Fair Lady. And there’s the pirate captain Richard Black Bow of the Black Arrow. And the fifth leader is a human called Braxton, the former captain of the city guard who is running a resistance in Highwater out of the South Gate, where out of his old barracks he protects many of the besieged innocents of the town.

I asked the smuggler about the castle in particular, and he confirmed the rumours that led us here, that strange womanly sounds have been heard from inside the castle. But the smuggler says the sounds are unnatural, and he doesn’t believe anything lives in that castle.

“So the castle is overrun with undead?” I asked him.

“I never said undead,” the smuggler snapped at me.

We inquired about the status of Willow Pike, the woman Robert Orn tasked us with finding back in Sledgefield.

“She’s dead.” The smuggler told us in a low, gravelly voice. He believed it.

“So why do y’all need to get to Highwater, anyways?” The smuggler asked us.

Unfortunately, Liara spoke up first. “We received a message from my aunt Betty,” she lied through her teeth, which surprised me, because I honestly didn’t know if Liara was even capable of telling a lie, “And we have to go and get her out of the city before it’s too late.”

Astoundingly, the smuggler accepted the story readily enough. Liara, however, looked paler than usual, and was babbling now about her made-up aunt Betty. Thankfully, the smuggler didn’t seem to be put off by her babbling, nor did he find it suspicious.

We were all pretty standoffish with each other until we waited for nightfall. The smuggler didn’t much trust us, we didn’t have much to say to each other, and that Jee Tung guy with his bodyguard was annoyed with all of us.

I had to sit in the middle of the rowboat, and the rest of the group got in after me, our equipment and the boat rocking making noise, but soon we were on the move, and the smuggler demanded we remain silent during the crossing.

“Not a noise, not even a whisper,” he hissed at us, as he pushed the boat from the dock, and it was the last word spoken until we reached the other side of the river, in the dead of night. It was late enough that even the insects were silent.

“Head east from here,” spoke the smuggler, as we disembarked and stepped on the muddy shores, some distance away from the town. “You’ll hit the outer city wall of Highwater. Or what’s left of it. The city is shaped like a half circle. If you’re looking for the Southern Gate, you’ll have to follow the ruins of the wall southeast until you reach it.”

The smuggler was already in the boat, turning it around, when he called back one last piece of advice: “One more thing. Don’t walk the streets of Highwater at night.”

Once the smuggler was gone, Jee Tung turned to face the rest of us. “We’re not far from the city now. We’re parting ways here, but we’ll meet back in the city today, at high noon, right in front of the castle.”

Ereven frowned at this. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Jee Tung replied hastily, “We have to meet our friends and take care of a few things before we can get you into the castle. But here,” he pulled a small scroll rolled shut with a black wax seal from his sleeve, “Show this to anyone who gives you trouble on the streets in Highwater. This should get you safe passage.”

“Thank you,” I told him seriously, “High noon, in front of the castle gates. We’ll be there.”

Jee Tung nodded, and then him and his large bodyguard vanished into the night.

“There are still a few hours until morning.” Ereven spoke after our company grew a little smaller.

“This shore is as good a place as any to wait until dawn, and then we can make our way into the city,” I said.

“Especially since the smuggler agreed that the city was dangerous at night,” Agosto agreed.

Liara was also in agreement.

Dawn came swiftly. We resumed our journey, and as the forests and thicket cleared away into barren fields and the full desolation of Highwater revealed itself as total and catastrophic. The city walls were in complete ruins. Smoke rose in ominous black columns from various districts of the city, which was located on something of a small mountain, the ruins of Highwater castle perched at the very top. It looked like two of the castle towers had crumbled completely, and the other two towers remained more or less intact, but still ruinous. A single church steeple could be seen from the rooftops. As the company approached the city walls, an odour of excrement and fermentation and alcohol became stronger and stronger. Though there was no gate or entrance into the city, the wall surrounding it was ruined enough that we decided to simply walk straight in and begin exploring the city immediately.

Drunkards were on the street, and trash was strewn everywhere. Houses had broken windows and doors, and had been emptied out, gutted. As we crossed over the ruins of the city walls, a small group of drunkards assembled tried to interrupt us.

“Halt—hic!—stop! All travellers—hic!—must pay a toll—hic!—to enter Highwatertown!” The drunkard hiccuped, but there were enough of them that even drunk, they could be obnoxious.

I moved past the rest of our group, and stood in front of the drunkard who had addressed us.

“I don’t think we’ll be paying you anything,” I explained.

A large man—Olaf, some called his name—came to the front, pushing past his drunken friends to stand in front of me.

“Yeah! Well, if you win a wrestling match—hic!—with Olaf here, we’ll let you in without paying. Hic!”

I think I may have visibly rolled my eyes. Sure, Olaf was pretty big for a human male. But I was bigger.

Needless to say, we entered the city without paying a single copper.

We were slowly making our way across town, following the winding streets, when we interrupted (somewhat by accident) a mugging taking place. Liara really wanted to intervene, so we did, and the man we saved was quite old, and his name was Johan. As Liara gave him a blanket (he was apparently cold) to wrap himself in, he told us that he was quite rich, but the vandals had taken his house away from him, and he was looking for a bunch of strong folk to come help him take his house and fortune back.

Liara wanted to help him, but Ereven and I reminded her that we had other objectives here in Highwater other than helping every sorry sod we came across, and we offered Johan an escort to Braxton at the South Gate. Johan was quick to accept our offer.

We arrived at the Barracks, where soldiers were still wearing the colours of House Pike, the former rulers of this city.

Fuck, there was a lot of poverty and destitution in the south of the city. Here you could really see how many people had been displaced by the pirates and the mercenaries. The city was being indeed occupied, but not by a single army.

When we finally found Braxton, he was with some of his guard captains in the barracks, discussing supplies. He was quite uninterested in speaking to us until he realised who had sent us.

Braxton was suddenly animated. “Is he coming? Is he here? Is he coming to liberate the city?”

We explained to him the mission we’d been given by Robert of Orn to find Willow Pike, based on the rumours that he’d heard that people thought she was still in the castle. He visibly deflated, and looked morose. “There’s nothing to substantiate those rumours. Willow Pike is dead. And whatever they’re saying in the castle, well, that’s being occupied by Iron Eye Mark now and his mercenaries. There’s nothing in that castle.”

I felt bad about how discouraged he sounded once he realised we weren’t bringing the news he so desperately needed, so I asked him if there was any message we could carry back to Robert once our task here in Highwater was done. I was thinking we may not see the former Captain of the City Guard again. He told us to tell Robert that he needed 500 soldiers to take back the city and liberate it from the pirates here. And he told us about a man called Tythos Telthagar, a nobleman who had been charged with the security of the city for the Pikes, but he had fled the city to the West. Though he had blocked all the waterways to the outside world. In essence, the pirates were trapped here in this city with no escape, and no new pirates or mercenaries were coming from the water. The only problem is all the innocent people who were trapped here in the city with them, and the countryside was no more safer for the common folk, though people were fleeing more and more every day.

Braxton took his leave of us, and I told Ereven and Agosto and Liara that didn’t have much time before high noon, where we were going to meet Jee Tung in front of the castle, so we departed for the north, and rushed to make it on time. We had to confirm that Willow Pike was dead or find her alive. Nothing less would do for the task that grump Robert of Orn had given us.

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