Session 5

We set off from Isolde. The journey to Baldock is easier now, thanks to the
clearing of the old road through the forest. It was an easy trip, except for
our various wounds. We stopped over in 'The Northern Rest' along the
Great Road. The place was a lifeless as ever. We ate stew and drank mead,
and discussed our plans.

Caed mentioned that he got the scroll on an island called 'Trajir'. I'm
not sure if I got that name quite right.

We are conspicuous and sore. Travel by cart is better for recouperation than
riding, but it's not pleasant. Still, time is too important to waste.

As we plodded south towards Baldock, three well-armed soldiers rode by at
speed, heading north.

We reached Baldock safely. We were considering staying in an inn, but we
decided to head for the Duke's castle instead. Once there, we were welcomed
in, and soon met the Duke. He seemed happy to see us, and we explained
that there was trouble afoot. Obviously we didn't want to say to much, which
led to a rather nervous moment when he asked what was happening. I broke
the silence by telling him straight out that although we trust him, the
fewer people know the exact details the better. I think he actually
appreciated the honesty.

He told us that the Baron had holed up in Whiteloch [OOC: the other northern
province of the Free States, with a similar scottish highland-style
culture, and a seemingly pointless mutual love-hate relationship with
Auchenross.] and seemed to have some support there. We might have to
look into that when (if!) we get back.

It looks as if the three horsemen were Knights of the Grey Lady, looking for
us. We were planning on heading south by caravan, so we figured they'd catch
up with us.

After talking to the Duke, we were seen by his Doctors, and then went to a
pleasant enough banquet. The Duke's a good host.

We booked passage with an Anderson's caravan to Morpeth, and after a few days
rest, we headed out on the 16th/10. The trip would take about 25 days.

On the 8th days out of Baldock, the three riders caught up with us,
exhausted after riding hard through the cold weather. They approached us.
The (obvious) leader was a good looking man in his mid-20s. He asked for
Lord Isolde - he had a warning.

He told us the details that evening. His name was Art Melifont, and he had
come fron Echtland. Apparently, someone had put a price on our heads,
just about a week and a half ago (around the time we'd defeated the Green
Hunter!). The bounty was a rather paltry 200sp each. Oh, a fair amount, I
suppose, but not half what the Green Hunter had been paid to kill Caed and
Ironhand.

Our bounty was offered by some young fellow, but not much is known.

The scroll, it is claimed, is fake. I could believe that, alright - but I'm
not sure it's a chance we can take.

I asked for some proof of identification. Melifont showed an authentic-looking
seal.

As soon as we've talked, they gallop off, leaving us wondering what the hell
was going on. Why do the Knights of the Grey Lady care about the bounty?
Or know about the scroll? (Well, I suppose finding out such things is what
they do.) I don't like this.

As we traveled on, Caed overheard some mention of wolves while one of the
guards was talking to a peasant.


Around the 10th/11, we reached Morpeth. We discussed various ways of getting
in and out unnoticed, but basically decided that we weren't going to get in
undetected, so we decided to go directly to the Goodwell family home, 
concealed in one of the caravans.

As we proceeded along in that direction, Jack went his own way, telling
us he'd see us later.

We reached the house safely, and entered the courtyard. One of the servants
fetched my father. We explained the situation in his study, though not in
detail, having decided instead to leave a sealed letter with him to be
opened in the future. He went off to get some of our people to see if they
could do anything.

Caed went off to get more information. Later, he and Jack returned,
seperately. Apparently, the bounty was placed by 'Eric the Younger' of
Rothport. The bounty was to be collected from a tavern called 'The Robey'.

For security reasons, we decided to use a large room on the ground floor as
a dorm-style bedroom, with one of us on guard at all times. The house guard
is quite competant, but there's no point taking any unnecessary risks. We
had extra buckets of water placed around the house in case of arson.

The night passed uneventfully. Some young arsonist did indeed have a shot at
fame and fortune, and lost his own life instead. After breakfast, we headed
to the library in two carriages, with two guards in each.

The receptionist at the library was a little unhelpful to Jack, so I told
her to get whoever was in charge. Mr Dardis didn't want us to bring our
weapons in, but he relented, at a reasonable price.

Caed and Jack did most of the real work. They found mention of two items,
Hjalmar Knutts (Knutt's Hammer) and the Passkey Amulet.

We returned to the carriages, where Devon and the guards were waiting, bored.
They were indeed the same guards as we'd left outside.

Only a short way from home, netting fell onto the carriages. I was deep in
thought at the time, and was thrown forward, hitting my head. I was stunned.
When I came round a few moments later, the others had cut the netting and
jumped out of the carriages. The guards were gone. Crossbow bolts were being
fired. Then a few of the locals charged us. I jumped from the carriage, and
stumbled. The melee began. I stepped forward and killed two of them.
Dev and Jack also got kills; maybe the others did too - I don't really
remember the fight very well.

It looked like the attackers were about to break, when a man with a very
badly messed up face, dressed in black, sprang at me. His men's nerve held,
for a short while, but it wasn't long before they broke.

As they fled, an arrow whistled through the air, hitting Ironhand. It went
right through his left arm and into his torso. As we ducked for cover behind
the carriages, the bowman fired at me. The arrow barely missed my left
shoulder. The bowman fled - and we glimpsed his green cloak. The Green
Hunter.

The leader of the thugs who'd attacked us was 'Black Vigo', a tough-guy
who'd previously tryed to follow Jack when we'd arrived in Morpeth.
(Thanks to beating him in combat, the low-lives of the city realised
that the price on ours heads wasn't such a good bargain.)

We got back home. Lee examined Ironhand's wound. The monk was in a bad way.
Lee removed the arrow head, with care. The arrow had been poisoned, but
luckily Lee knew what it was. We fetched an apothecary, with the required
herbs. And a good thing - without them, Ironhand would have been dead within
hours.

We decided to delay our trip to Rothport for a week to let the monk
recover somewhat. We rested.

On the 20th/11, we left for Rothport with a G&G caravan. We took 10 mounted
guards with us. That's more than enough to deal with the level of banditry
in the area, when you consider ourselves and the caravaneers as well.
The Morpeth assassins wouldn't really be suited to a highway attack either.

It's a three week journey to Rothport from Morpeth. The air was cold and
dry, which was fine by me.

Mid-way through the second week, at least a dozen well-armed cavalry
approached us. They were tough looking professional soldiers, as far as
we could tell. They came from the direction of Rothport. I wasn't
too confident we could win against this lot. Our fighters are competant,
but they're guards, not soldiers.

Their leader demanded that we hand over the scroll. As we deliberated,
Lee heard the sound of galloping horses coming from Morpeth.

Much to our surprise, the group that now arrived was composed of a
half-dozen heavy cavalry - and the riders were all women.

Their leader called out to her opposite number:
"Leave these ones be, Darren."

The bearded man replied.
"We want what's ours."

"The orders don't fight, Darren."

With that, 'Darren' decided against a fight, and rode off.

The new arrivals removed their helmets and approached us. Their leader
introduced them. They were Sisters of the Abbess' Sword, sent by
the Alfred (I think it was called) Chapterhouse recently, to protect us
on our way to Morpeth. Her name, I think, was Alice.

The bearded horseman was 'Craig Darren' of the Order of the Grey Lady.
Apparently, there had been some sort of schism in the Order, and for the
last few years two factions had been competing for information. Why
exactly Darren wanted the scroll was unknown.

The Sisters accompanied us to Rothport. It was an uneventful trip from
then on. I must admit I'm disturbed by the in-fighting of the Orders.

We passed over the last gentle hill along the road, and saw the city before
us, on a wide plain leading down to the sea. The city is rather unimpressive
when you're from Morpeth, though it's got a decent river, and a somewhat
fortified harbour.

We entered the city. It seemed somewhat disorganised compared to Morpeth,
but very busy. We made our way to the castle of Lord and Lady Roth,
where we presented out letters of commendation from Duke Guilder. The Roths
would probably have been welcoming anyway, in fact - they don't get too
many noble visitors, and Jack and Lord Roth (or as he prefered, 'Jon')
got on pretty well. Lady Roth seems a little odd.

Lee seemed to have taken a shine to Alice. He plucked a rose from the
castle gardens and gave it to her. She accepted it, though it got a little
crushed by her gauntlet. Over the time on the rode, he'd discovered that
the Sisters only ever marry members of Holy Orders. Unfortunately for
Lee, Knight of Auchenross doesn't cut it, so he didn't do any more than
hand her the rose.

We had asked the local G&G agent to visit us. Soon enough he showed up.
His name is Roderick Gibbons, and he was very helpful. We asked him to
look into the availability of ships this time of year. He wasn't too
optimistic, but did mention a man named Tanner who was due in port soon.

We stayed in the castle, keeping our guard - by the looks of it, the place
wasn't as secure as my family's home in Morpeth. Still, more pleasant than
staying in most inns.

A few days later, James Tanner's ship, 'The Heron', docked. Roderick came to
inform us. He'd mentioned before that Tanner was a little mad, but a good
captain. My guess was that that was as good as we could hope for, given the
dangers of sailing in winter.

We walked down to the docks and met Tanner. He brought us into a bar, where
we discussed terms. He was drinking old (and expensive) whiskey, which
I paid for.

He went off to relieve himself, and we tryed to decided how much to tell him.
I think Trajir'd already been mentioned, unfortunately - I didn't want anyone
hearing that 'til we were at sea.

As Tanner returned, we noticed the bar had gone silent. The barman darted
through the back door, and locked it. A moment later, a dozen burly sailors
stormed through the door. The ring-leader shouted "Get them!" or something,
and they went for us. Luckily we were in a corner, so they couldn'd easily
flank us. We were outnumbered 2 to 1 though, and with the bar and tables
nearby, it wasn't easy to form up effectively. Jack and Ironhand jumped up
onto the bar. Lee and I were in the centre, with Tanner and Caed on the
other side. I shouted at the others to form up so we wouldn't be flanked.
Tanner (fighting with a flaming torch) and Caed (with a whip) were a little
enthusiastic, and drifted forwards. With sailors trying to get over the bar,
I thought we might be flanked from both sides. Luckily, these fellows
weren't too disciplined either, and we were much better fighters. After a few
were downed, they broke and fled.

Tanner asked a reasonable price. I thought for a moment, and then accepted.
We have a ship, a crew, and a captain.