A Northern Town
By Alekto.
Summary: A Southern trader hires a group of mercenary adventurers as bodyguards for his trip to the remote Dwarf Kingdom of K'Dhul. He ends up getting involved in far more than he ever bargained for.
Author's note: Like many other Dungeons and Dragons fics, this one is based on the events as they happened during the game. For names and characterisations etc., I can only thank/blame (delete as appropriate) the other players - Adam, Angharad, Jason, Mike and Richard. The rest of the thanks has to be reserved for Aaron, the DM, who's twisted, (G) warped mind created the world we play in.
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 1 - Not quite what I had in mind.
I had expected the wild country of the North to be less civilised than my own land, and in that at least I was not disappointed. On the maps I had studied before setting out, Port Wylde had seemed such a strange, even exotic place. The reality was cold, wet, drab and worst of all - filthy. The only advice I had been given was to meet with Vaarne, a professional intermediary and arranger of whatever needed to be arranged.
Vaarne held court in one of the many timber halls of the town. He was tall, blonde and bearded, his approaching middle age having done little to diminish a powerful physique. The others in the hall were of a type: hard drinking, hard brawling Northern tribesmen, apparently conforming to every stereotype that would be familiar to a Southerner. My appearance in so rowdy a gathering caused no small amount of hilarity. The djellaba, which I refused to exchange for local garb, did admittedly resemble to dresses worn by the women of the tribes. I had no choice but to let them laugh. I was no warrior, and my other talents I would rather not have generally known unless I could help it.
"Welcome, Alef!" Vaarne called out. "Sit down and have a drink."
I obliged and sipped the rough mead that was placed in front of me. It was foul tasting but I had no doubt that it was safer to drink than the water. The informality made me uncomfortable. I had expected this to be a business meeting, the payment to Vaarne of a brokerage fee in return for an introduction to the mercenaries that he had been able to find to escort me through the forests of Gormund to K'Dhul. Before landing in Port Wylde, I had fondly hoped to be able to procure passage north in a caravan, operated by one of the local merchant houses, and guarded by armoured professionals.
Vaarne had swiftly disabused me of that plan in our first meeting. Since I had left Akkad months earlier, the situation in the North had deteriorated. As always, the Gormundian tribes were warring amongst themselves, but now it had gone far beyond the mutual raiding that had long characterised their tactics. Word had reached us that the Ardenian Empire had started pushing troops through the isthmus of Akar that lay to the west of Port Wylde, encroaching into Gormund. More worryingly, rumours had started circulating that the Blood Order was on the move. The lands they laid claim to covered the vast taiga that stretched to the north and east, beyond the mountain range that was the Dwarf Kingdom of K'Dhul.
"I have managed to find you some people to act as bodyguards. They are willing to go into Gormund with you," Vaarne eventually announced. I thought I could hear something in his voice. Resignation? I was unsure.
"Shall I meet them here?" I asked. I had no familiarity with the protocol of such situations.
He nodded ponderously, whether from weariness or the drink, I could not tell. "I'll send word to them. Wait here - when they arrive I'll introduce you."
"Do they have a good reputation in these matters?" I said.
"I have no idea," he said frankly. "Before yesterday I'd never met them, and nobody I know has even heard of them, but they're the only ones I could find willing to go north at the moment." He waited for a protest from me. When none was forthcoming, he left to find them. I found myself suddenly wishing that I could stay here, protected from whatever was out there by the wooden palisades of the town, but I had a contract with the Dwarves that I would not renege on if I could help it - it was worth too much to me.
About an hour or so later, he returned. I think on some level I was disappointed that he had chosen to bring his wife to the conclusion of our dealings, but as I decided to say nothing. Vaarne sat down as did his wife. Following them was a group that looked nearly as outlandish in the hall as I did. Leading them was a tall man, wearing a style of armour that I had not seen outside the Empire. I recognised his type, though. Gentleman soldier, what we of Akkad referred to as an Askar. His companions were unusual: Next to the Askar was a woman, robed in purple and carrying a staff. Without doubt, a wizard of some description. She was taller than he, with long dark blonde hair and vivid green eyes, beautiful certainly, but there was something disconcertingly predatory about her. At her side stood a slightly built man, plainly clad also carrying a staff - probably another wizard. He was older than the woman, his hair showing the beginnings of grey at the temples, but he seemed far more open and approachable.
Behind them were two others, whose colouring marked them clearly as outsiders. The taller of them was a. woman. female, anyway. Her skin was dark, almost black, and the heaviness of her features marked at least some of her ancestry as something other than human. Her head was nearly entirely shaved, but what little hair remained had been dyed a blazing red. The final member of the group was plain enough in appearance to have passed without notice anywhere in the South. His clothing was as non- descript as he, and only his dusky skin marked him apart. I returned my attention to Vaarne.
"These are the people I told you of," he stated, then gestured at the woman sat at his side, "and this is Koronin, their leader." I could not help but do a double-take: their leader? Women war leaders were rare in Akkad, tall, extraordinary, wonderful creatures, the stuff of legend. I had never encountered anyone who looked less like a legend than this rather ordinary looking woman of no more than average height whose mousy brown hair bore streaks of grey. Looking more closely at her in the dim light of the hall, I noticed a faded uneven scar that cut a pale diagonal slash across the bridge of her nose.
The woman, Koronin, ignored my scrutiny and made the introductions. I struggled to remember the names of those I might end up relying on for my life. The Askar had one of the interminable names such as are carried by minor nobility, attempting to equate importance with long lines of ancestors: Thoran Barrington Arkelson. The wizards were Sarhar, the woman in purple; and Eric. The dark skinned woman was named Mheng and the final member of the group was Prakesh.
They gazed at me with disinterest as Vaarne and Koronin discussed the fee. The paltry figure I had earlier suggested for the task to Vaarne was soon upped to a higher but still affordable sum. I returned their gazes as steadily as I could, less than reassured by the company of people willing to risk their lives for a few hundred coins.
"Will you be ready to leave tomorrow?" Koronin's words dragged me from my reverie.
"Hmh? Oh, yes, of course," I replied, somewhat nonplussed by her directness, so unlike the women of Akkad. Thankfully.
"Be at the North Gate at dawn with everything you'll need, including supplies," she began. "It's a two week journey to Duth, and from there another week to K'Dhul. There are no inns or caravanserais on the way, so if you don't have horses and appropriate outdoors gear, buy some. I'm sure Vaarne will be able to make sure you're prepared."
I glanced at Vaarne who simply nodded. It went without saying that he would get a kickback from whoever he sent me to for the things I needed. I looked back at Koronin and the others, with - I have to confess - something less than complete confidence. If we were attacked by any of the barbarian raiders, I did not rate their. our chances.
The deal was done, though. All I could hope for was an uneventful trip.
TBC.
By Alekto.
Summary: A Southern trader hires a group of mercenary adventurers as bodyguards for his trip to the remote Dwarf Kingdom of K'Dhul. He ends up getting involved in far more than he ever bargained for.
Author's note: Like many other Dungeons and Dragons fics, this one is based on the events as they happened during the game. For names and characterisations etc., I can only thank/blame (delete as appropriate) the other players - Adam, Angharad, Jason, Mike and Richard. The rest of the thanks has to be reserved for Aaron, the DM, who's twisted, (G) warped mind created the world we play in.
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 1 - Not quite what I had in mind.
I had expected the wild country of the North to be less civilised than my own land, and in that at least I was not disappointed. On the maps I had studied before setting out, Port Wylde had seemed such a strange, even exotic place. The reality was cold, wet, drab and worst of all - filthy. The only advice I had been given was to meet with Vaarne, a professional intermediary and arranger of whatever needed to be arranged.
Vaarne held court in one of the many timber halls of the town. He was tall, blonde and bearded, his approaching middle age having done little to diminish a powerful physique. The others in the hall were of a type: hard drinking, hard brawling Northern tribesmen, apparently conforming to every stereotype that would be familiar to a Southerner. My appearance in so rowdy a gathering caused no small amount of hilarity. The djellaba, which I refused to exchange for local garb, did admittedly resemble to dresses worn by the women of the tribes. I had no choice but to let them laugh. I was no warrior, and my other talents I would rather not have generally known unless I could help it.
"Welcome, Alef!" Vaarne called out. "Sit down and have a drink."
I obliged and sipped the rough mead that was placed in front of me. It was foul tasting but I had no doubt that it was safer to drink than the water. The informality made me uncomfortable. I had expected this to be a business meeting, the payment to Vaarne of a brokerage fee in return for an introduction to the mercenaries that he had been able to find to escort me through the forests of Gormund to K'Dhul. Before landing in Port Wylde, I had fondly hoped to be able to procure passage north in a caravan, operated by one of the local merchant houses, and guarded by armoured professionals.
Vaarne had swiftly disabused me of that plan in our first meeting. Since I had left Akkad months earlier, the situation in the North had deteriorated. As always, the Gormundian tribes were warring amongst themselves, but now it had gone far beyond the mutual raiding that had long characterised their tactics. Word had reached us that the Ardenian Empire had started pushing troops through the isthmus of Akar that lay to the west of Port Wylde, encroaching into Gormund. More worryingly, rumours had started circulating that the Blood Order was on the move. The lands they laid claim to covered the vast taiga that stretched to the north and east, beyond the mountain range that was the Dwarf Kingdom of K'Dhul.
"I have managed to find you some people to act as bodyguards. They are willing to go into Gormund with you," Vaarne eventually announced. I thought I could hear something in his voice. Resignation? I was unsure.
"Shall I meet them here?" I asked. I had no familiarity with the protocol of such situations.
He nodded ponderously, whether from weariness or the drink, I could not tell. "I'll send word to them. Wait here - when they arrive I'll introduce you."
"Do they have a good reputation in these matters?" I said.
"I have no idea," he said frankly. "Before yesterday I'd never met them, and nobody I know has even heard of them, but they're the only ones I could find willing to go north at the moment." He waited for a protest from me. When none was forthcoming, he left to find them. I found myself suddenly wishing that I could stay here, protected from whatever was out there by the wooden palisades of the town, but I had a contract with the Dwarves that I would not renege on if I could help it - it was worth too much to me.
About an hour or so later, he returned. I think on some level I was disappointed that he had chosen to bring his wife to the conclusion of our dealings, but as I decided to say nothing. Vaarne sat down as did his wife. Following them was a group that looked nearly as outlandish in the hall as I did. Leading them was a tall man, wearing a style of armour that I had not seen outside the Empire. I recognised his type, though. Gentleman soldier, what we of Akkad referred to as an Askar. His companions were unusual: Next to the Askar was a woman, robed in purple and carrying a staff. Without doubt, a wizard of some description. She was taller than he, with long dark blonde hair and vivid green eyes, beautiful certainly, but there was something disconcertingly predatory about her. At her side stood a slightly built man, plainly clad also carrying a staff - probably another wizard. He was older than the woman, his hair showing the beginnings of grey at the temples, but he seemed far more open and approachable.
Behind them were two others, whose colouring marked them clearly as outsiders. The taller of them was a. woman. female, anyway. Her skin was dark, almost black, and the heaviness of her features marked at least some of her ancestry as something other than human. Her head was nearly entirely shaved, but what little hair remained had been dyed a blazing red. The final member of the group was plain enough in appearance to have passed without notice anywhere in the South. His clothing was as non- descript as he, and only his dusky skin marked him apart. I returned my attention to Vaarne.
"These are the people I told you of," he stated, then gestured at the woman sat at his side, "and this is Koronin, their leader." I could not help but do a double-take: their leader? Women war leaders were rare in Akkad, tall, extraordinary, wonderful creatures, the stuff of legend. I had never encountered anyone who looked less like a legend than this rather ordinary looking woman of no more than average height whose mousy brown hair bore streaks of grey. Looking more closely at her in the dim light of the hall, I noticed a faded uneven scar that cut a pale diagonal slash across the bridge of her nose.
The woman, Koronin, ignored my scrutiny and made the introductions. I struggled to remember the names of those I might end up relying on for my life. The Askar had one of the interminable names such as are carried by minor nobility, attempting to equate importance with long lines of ancestors: Thoran Barrington Arkelson. The wizards were Sarhar, the woman in purple; and Eric. The dark skinned woman was named Mheng and the final member of the group was Prakesh.
They gazed at me with disinterest as Vaarne and Koronin discussed the fee. The paltry figure I had earlier suggested for the task to Vaarne was soon upped to a higher but still affordable sum. I returned their gazes as steadily as I could, less than reassured by the company of people willing to risk their lives for a few hundred coins.
"Will you be ready to leave tomorrow?" Koronin's words dragged me from my reverie.
"Hmh? Oh, yes, of course," I replied, somewhat nonplussed by her directness, so unlike the women of Akkad. Thankfully.
"Be at the North Gate at dawn with everything you'll need, including supplies," she began. "It's a two week journey to Duth, and from there another week to K'Dhul. There are no inns or caravanserais on the way, so if you don't have horses and appropriate outdoors gear, buy some. I'm sure Vaarne will be able to make sure you're prepared."
I glanced at Vaarne who simply nodded. It went without saying that he would get a kickback from whoever he sent me to for the things I needed. I looked back at Koronin and the others, with - I have to confess - something less than complete confidence. If we were attacked by any of the barbarian raiders, I did not rate their. our chances.
The deal was done, though. All I could hope for was an uneventful trip.
TBC.