Lost Trails: chapter 13 Phlan, part 2

[ewancummins]

THREE DAYS PASS…

Since Master Porphyrio Cadorna sent a servant to relay his regrets that he could not rejoin the party at the luncheon/meeting in his textile trade offices, none of the adventurers have seen him.

Nobody has, outside the Cadorna Textiles Compound.

The master-merchant has holed up behind stone walls and armed guards. His workers carry truncheons and daggers now, even when visiting public houses or walking to and from their place of work, and every tenth man wears a whistle. And just this morning, beast handlers delivered to the cloth warehouse cages holding half-a-dozen growling, fierce-eyed mastiffs of the kind Hillsfar breeds for its infamous fighting pits.

BENNEDIKT, more interested in dragon-lore than Cadorna’s security arrangements, has found plenty to read at Mandor’s Library. The eclectic collection could use a more efficient filing system. Benn finds a good number of books and scrolls involving dragons: scholarly works, fables, poetry, traveler’s tales, local legends, religious allegories, etcetera. The problem lies in sorting out what’s true and relevant from the mass of extraneous and fanciful material. The archivist may just have to read widely, take plenty of notes, and hope that something he picked up proves helpful later…


KATRIN, meanwhile, has spent a couple of days hanging out in pubs and along the waterfront, hunting rumors and reports from the River Lis.
Nothing fresh the first day, just old stories about swamp bandits.

But on the second day, she picks up a tale of a recent attack by some sort of dragon-- or at least, a huge snaky river monster-- that capsized a big barge. Armed guardsmen and a mage hardly touched the thing before it smashed the boat to splinters and started in on the men. Just two or three rowers escaped being gobbled up by the monster. If the story is true, one of these survivors staggered into a fishing village near the Lis headwaters on the Moonsea shore several days ago. The story spreads quickly in Phlan; Katrin is among the first to hear it from the crusty old first mate of the Scrag’s Wife, a cog sailing out of Mulmaster.

And the morning of the third day, she hears word that something has poisoned and destroyed a village on the Lis eastern bank, about a tenday past. No known survivors…

RAEN
Has spent the time in discreet inquiries into possible enemies of the Cadornas, and looking into the presence of any thieves’ guild in Phlan or other miscreants who might seek to steal the crystal ball.

[ewancummins]

KLOKULF spends his time following up on something he was told in Zhentil Keep...


THE SLUMS
MORNING OF THE THIRD DAY
A SHADOWY FRONT ROOM IN A DERELICT BUILDING


The knife point at the priest's neck presses a little closer. Something wet, whether blood or sweat, trickles down the priest's skin, pooling in the hollow of his clavicle.
"You've been nosy.”
The man's breath smells of honeyed milk.

Klokulf's eyes adjust to the gloom of the abandoned building; he had been hauled in so quickly from the daylight into semi-darkness.

The man behind Klokulf shifts his stance, pushing Klokulf's feet a little farther apart by shoving a boot between them, and adjusts the position of the knife point, tracing the jugular.

Something glints green under Klokulf's chin.
Inclining his head very slowly, carefully so as not to alarm the man, the cleric sees it: a green stone on the man's knife-hand.
A ring.

[Wolfglide of the Fraternity]

THE SLUMS
MORNING OF THE THIRD DAY
A SHADOWY FRONT ROOM IN A DERELICT BUILDING


The knife point at the priest's neck presses a little closer. Something wet, whether blood or sweat, trickles down the priest's skin, pooling in the hollow of his clavicle.
"You've been nosy.”
The man's breath smells of honeyed milk.

Klokulf's eyes adjust to the gloom of the abandoned building; he had been hauled in so quickly from the daylight into semi-darkness.

The man behind Klokulf shifts his stance, pushing Klokulf's feet a little farther apart by shoving a boot between them, and adjusts the position of the knife point, tracing the jugular.

Something glints green under Klokulf's chin.
Inclining his head very slowly, carefully so as not to alarm the man, the cleric sees it: a green stone on the man's knife-hand.
A ring.

"You have me in dark fear, sir," Klokulf responds. "If you mean to rob me, perhaps this will be of interest to you." Slowly, he raises his clenched right fist, presenting his ring to his assailant.

[ewancummins]

The mugger releases his grip on Klokulf's arm but does not move his knife away from the priest's throat. A moment later, Klokulf feels another blade, this one tickling his ribs.

''I'm good with my left. Hold still.''

The knife at his neck vanishes and the man lifts his hand, turning it so that the two rings touch at the matched stones.

An pale green ball of light forms around the rings. Dark motes form in the eerie glow, coalescing into a talon-tipped claw, the Black Hand of Bane.
Klokulf hears a voice in his skull
SERVE NONE BUT BANE

The stranger's whisper in Klokulf's ear echoes the psychic message, ''Serve none but Bane.''
The ambusher lowers his knife and steps back.

When Klokulf turns to face the man, he sees a bland-faced, somewhat chubby fellow who looks more like a greengrocer than a cuthroat.
The man says,
''Spread his dark fear.''
He shrugs, gesturing toward the door with the knife that has just reappeared in his right hand as if by a conjurer's trick.
''Let's keep that closed for this meeting. Private in here. The Harpers have an agent in the city, so I hear. Tricky bastards...''

[Wolfglide of the Fraternity]

"Indeed," Klokulf replies as he runs a thumb across his neck, quickly checking for nicks.
"I am Klokulf Blix," he says, offering the man a shallow bow. "How may I address you?"

[ewancummins]

"Indeed," Klokulf replies as he runs a thumb across his neck, quickly checking for nicks.
"I am Klokulf Blix," he says, offering the man a shallow bow. "How may I address you?"

"Feyd.''

Feyd moves about soundlessly, doing a check of the room, doors, a peek at the street through the shutters.
After his quick sweep, he turns to the priest and says,
''The boss wants a full report on the item. Give it to me when you are ready. And be wary, not just of the merchant's men. I wasn't sure if you were our man or working for somebody else. Those Who Harp have heard the rumors about the item. A Harper won't likely be too obvious, but just the same, keep clear of any minstrels. They all have sharp ears, big mouths."

[Wolfglide of the Fraternity]

Klokulf takes a moment to collect his thoughts, then proceeds. "The Orb is about this size," he says, holding his hands apart, "generally pink in color. It was brought out in a strongbox suspended by chains between four armed men. Master Porphyrio Cadorna carries the steel key on his person. Staring into it, one loses sight of the surrounding world as some vision is conveyed. Some of us got the chance to experience this, and I saw a volcanic wasteland and a black metal tower, perhaps the abode of Bane himself. Less conveniently, another of my party saw Master Cadorna with his throat slit, likely over ownership of the Orb itself, so his guard has been on high alert to protect his life. Further examination was curtailed after that."

[ewancummins]

Feyd nods.


"We haven't been ordered to obtain the item but if such an order comes down, we need to have a plan. About Porphyrio Cadorna...he has refused to join the Network and is known to have voted in the civic council against allowing the Lyceum of the Black Lord to reopen. But he also had a part in kicking out the Harpers, some years back. Approached the right way, he might cooperate with us. And if do we have to act against him, having someone on the inside will be just what we need. But what do you think, Dread Brother Klokulf?"

[Wolfglide of the Fraternity]

"Tact and cunning seem in order," Klokulf responds. "Perhaps his paranoia can be directed where it is most useful. If he assisted in ousting the Harpers, rumors of their agents seeking the Orb would perhaps train his fears on them."

He goes on, "It is the intention of those I travel with to obtain the Orb from him, so getting him to relinquish it will be an assisted task. Getting it into the right hands may be harder. Aside of that, what is this Network of which you speak?"

[ewancummins]

"Tact and cunning seem in order," Klokulf responds. "Perhaps his paranoia can be directed where it is most useful. If he assisted in ousting the Harpers, rumors of their agents seeking the Orb would perhaps train his fears on them."

He goes on, "It is the intention of those I travel with to obtain the Orb from him, so getting him to relinquish it will be an assisted task. Getting it into the right hands may be harder. Aside of that, what is this Network of which you speak?"

Feyd grunts.

"Ah, right, you're from far away. The Network, the Black Network, is the Zhentarim. It seeks control of trade, legal and illegal, across the Moonsea, Anauroch, the North, the Dales. Cadorna was offered a membership but refused. The group took subtle measures against him, I've heard, but they've been thwarted. Maybe the Orb helped with that? They might be after him. Let's hope not. Anyway, we don't want to get them involved. If they do enter the picture, we can negotiate with them. You're a priest of Bane--they will respect that-- and I've done jobs for them in the past. "

[ewancummins]

Feyd questions Klokulf about his party’s business with Cadorna…
At the end of the talk, he tells Klokulf to go on with his party and to get back in touch after the return from the journey south. He gives instructions for a dead-drop contact and then leaves through the darkened interior of the derelict house.

Raen’s investigations introduce him several petty crooks and one shady pawnbroker, but he detects no obvious threat to Cadorna or the Orb. The mage witnesses no crimes more serious than pickpocketing. He does pick up rumors about the recent fatal stabbing of a local ne’er’do-well at the Bitter Blade tavern, but it seems the body (if there really was a murder) has gone missing and no one will talk to the Watch.

Bran, the dwarf-cleric the party aided on the road to Phlan, stops by the party’s inn to thank them again. He mentions that he’s signed on with Cadorna as extra security and has brought several other dwarves along with him. “‘Tis not the first time I have worked for him; he’s always been level and square in his dealings with me and my folk.”

The evening of the third day after the meeting in the Cadorna offices, Master Porphyrio Cadorna sends word: he has arranged passage on one of his trading vessels, the cog Maiden’s Kiss, which will bring the group across the Moonsea and into the headwaters of the River Lis. From there, the group will take a longboat and supplies, all provided by the Cadorna Textiles and Trading Company, and proceed on the monster hunt at its own discretion.
The Maiden’s Kiss sails at dawn.

END OF CHAPTER