Chapter 19: Civilization's End

[Paladin]

Iago Vazquez de Quesada

Iago wastes no time in pocketing the coin. He scans the faces of those nearby to see if anyone is watching their transaction with more than idle curiosity before favoring Cassius with a slight bow.

"I do, indeed, seek more dark scalps to fatten my purse with good silver," he replies. "If you have any information about the best place to begin my search for more of these savages, I will bring you a score."

He grins wolfishly at Cruloc's jest. "Sí. My throat grows dry from the killing. It is thirsty work."

[Yrkoon]

Cruloc

From his vantagepoint on the parapet, Cruloc surveys the layout of the fort, scrutinising its strengths and weaknesses. His eyes drift across the axe-cleared plateau to the dark rim of the forest beyond, and he grimly considers what unsavoury plots the far-off percussionists are hatching.

[Inferno]

Fort Tuscelan, Conajohara Province, Aquilonian Empire, the World of Hyboria
Day One. Sunset, 11th day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







The sun sets over Fort Tuscelan, westernmost outpost of the Aquilonian Empire.

On the wall-walk, Iago scans the fortress below, finding only idle interest from the faces there. As a subject of attention, the swashbuckler vies poorly with the tavern stall that just opened at sundown. Iago asks Centurion Cassius where one might find more scalps for the taking.

"Across Black River. Enough to make you rich," Cassius replies, politely declining their invitation to drink.

Cruloc's eyes turn from the fort to the river, gold and glimmering under the sunset. Beyond the river the jungle rises like a wall.



A wind whispers through the branches, rippling the dusky water. On its wings comes the low, rhythmic pulsing of the relentless drums.

Inside the priest's humble home, Grigor confesses too much and Father Andronicus is momentarily speechless. He soon recovers, "Ever the gods look with favor upon their faithful servants, my troubled son. To what unholy site do you pilgrim? And who were the dead that your heathen siblings desecrated?"




In the courtyard, Amethu and Zahra approach a grizzled Tauran scout, asking about the savage lands to the west.




Regarding the pair of masked albinos skeptically, the outdoorsman glances toward Agrippa who nods. The scout smiles bleakly, "I'm Decius. Buy me a drink, ghostly ones, to help unlimber my jaw."

Not far from the tavern stall, a fat merchant named Augustus haggles with Dahinna over the price of a strange silver bracelet with a serpentine motif.




"...Forty gold is the best I can do. Unless you'd rather offer something in trade, perhaps?"




Nearby, Kiri asks the scalped proprietor, "It seems you have had some experience in the surrounding jungle. We will go there, soon. Any advice you have would be appreciated. Is there no means of reasoning with the Picts?"

The merchant grumbles bitterly, "I tried to reason with them."



"I'm called Kaeso. I've never been across the Black River. The Picts steal over to murder and burn. Some day they'll sweep the settlers out of Conajohara. This colonization business is mad. There's plenty of good land east of the Bossonian marches. If the Aquilonians would cut up some of the big estates of their barons, and plant wheat where now only deer are hunted, they wouldn't have to cross the border and take the land of the Picts away from them. Once I can raise enough, I'm going home. Sure you can't use another dozen arrows? They might save your life."


Actions?


Map:

X marks the adventurers' position at Fort Tuscelan.




PC Status:

Amethu: Verulian Grand Magus Cleric/Magic-User 3/2: Move: 9", AC: 4, HP: 9/14, Spells: 3/7 1st lvl, 3/3 2nd lvl
Cruloc: Cimmerian Northman Barbarian 3: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 45/45
Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 4: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 19/19
Grigor: Zamoran Nomad Cleric/Fighter 3/3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 18/29, Spells: 3/4 1st lvl, 2/2 2nd lvl
Iago: Zingaran Southman Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 2, HP: 18/32
Kiri Khutan: Kambujan Easterner Fighter/Magic-User 3/2: Move: 9", AC: 3, HP: 19/19, Spells: 1/3 1st lvl
Zahra: Verulian Amazon Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 3, HP: 20/29
Gnasher: Grigor's Hound: Move: 12", AC: 5, HD: 2+2, HP: 10/11, AT: 1, D: 1-4

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[ravenn4544]

Amethu nods politely. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Decius. It would be our honor to help you with that drink. Please lead the way, sir"

[Urson]

Zahra
Zahra walks with the two men as they head for the wine seller.

[Yrkoon]

Cruloc

Thrum thrum thrum

Cruloc's barbaric soul is stirred by the ceaseless beating of the distant drums. They demand blood. They compel vengeance. He understands, nay, feels the same hatred for Aquilonians and their voracious appetite for conquest. Sons of Cimmeria in their thousands have been cut down by trespassers sent by Tarantia, and their women - his own mother among them - taken to amuse imperial soldiers such as these before him. He would aid the Picts in their sacking of the fort if he did not think his head would be counted among their trophies.

He contemplates Cassius with a menacing smile. Would this one squeal?

"Come, Iago. Let us sample the mule sweat which passes for liquor in these parts."

He turns and descends the parapet, long-suppressed wrath briefly manifest in deep creases on his young brow.

On his way past the stalls, the barbarian purchases a dozen arrows. He cares not about the price, for he suspects he will sooner or later be looting the Pict-defiled corpses of Tuscelan.

[ChubbyPixie]

Nearby, Kiri asks the scalped proprietor, "It seems you have had some experience in the surrounding jungle. We will go there, soon. Any advice you have would be appreciated. Is there no means of reasoning with the Picts?"

The merchant grumbles bitterly, "I tried to reason with them."

"I'm called Kaeso. I've never been across the Black River. The Picts steal over to murder and burn. Some day they'll sweep the settlers out of Conajohara. This colonization business is mad. There's plenty of good land east of the Bossonian marches. If the Aquilonians would cut up some of the big estates of their barons, and plant wheat where now only deer are hunted, they wouldn't have to cross the border and take the land of the Picts away from them. Once I can raise enough, I'm going home. Sure you can't use another dozen arrows? They might save your life."

"I see," says Kiri. "Our way is clear, then. Regrettably, I have no need of more arrows - I tend to rely on these," he says, indicating his trident and sword. "And magic. And my grandfather, when he's not being stubborn," he adds, perhaps jokingly, though he does not smile, glancing down at his amulet.

"I wish you luck, Kaeso, in your efforts to move on from here." says the oddly dressed easterner. When Cruloc arrives as if on cue to buy more arrows, he adds, "Perhaps that day is closer than you think."

"Is there anyone in this camp who has been across the river? Anyone who might have a map?"

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna runs her fingers along the elaborate ring and then shrugs.
"I only have a handful of silver. Maybe the next folks who wander through can do ya better."

She turns away and begins looking for someplace to buy a drink.

[Bluetongue]

Grigor

"What is the price of life? Three gold pieces for a cranium of hair. My comrades cash in on the renegade Picts who ambushed us.

I carry trophies from the wild hunts. A tusk to drink from, this bearskin to warm my body, antlers shaped into cutlery. But is it not an unholy thing to parade parts of the dead. I have heard the dead seek vengeance as spirits and rise under the moon or stalk as shadows from the crypts. I would hope you captain burns the scalps to Ashes not nail them on the flagpoles."


He reaches into his pouch and takes 3gp, placing them into an offering bowl, "The price is paid for my own head. That I may keep it until I set my eyes upon Atlantis.

They say all rivers lead to the sea and as streams the religions converge to a once holy city, overwhelmed by the sea and submerged under the waves after incurring divine wrath.

Is that not so Father?" "

[Inferno]

Fort Tuscelan, Conajohara Province, Aquilonian Empire, the World of Hyboria
Day One. After sundown, 11th day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







Night presses in. The shadows of the forest wall darken to absolute blackness.

Inside the fort, the scalped merchant's luck turns as he gratefully sells a second dozen arrows to Cruloc. (2gp) Then Kaeso tells Kiri that only the scouts have been across the Black River. "They'll be drinking now."

Beneath the sentinels on the wall, fires blossom in the courtyard. And the tavern stall attracts men like a corpse attracts flies. (1sp per drink)

Praetor Valannus withdraws to the governor's quarters, that his men may relax in peace. His retinue disperses but not before Cassius tells Cruloc and Iago where to bunk for the night.

In time, all the adventurers find each other near the ale stall, except Grigor. The gypsy holyman confesses to Father Andronicus and refers to the divine wrath that sank ancient Atlantis.

"Atlantis?" says Andronicus. "You speak of the old world, my troubled son. Before the cataclysm. That lost age of Atlantis and Verulia. And Valusia which once stood where we stand now. Valusia, rotted through with decadence. Infested by insidious, unholy serpentine men who ruled the Earth long before Man."



"Atlantis fell beneath the weight of its own sin and hubris. You would be wise not seek out such a realm, damned and accursed by the gods."

At the tavern stall, some soldiers whistle past the graveyard, like Agrippa, carousing and laughing while just beyond the stockade, drums beat in the night. Other soldiers drink to forget their fear or fuel their rage, like Tiberius the swaggering bravo that Dahinna put in his place earlier.



Now drunk, the young legionnaire complains too loudly, "...and that is the weakness of this province—a thin wedge thrust into the untamed wilderness. The lives of all the people west of the marches depend on this half-manned fort. Were it to fall, red axes would be splintering the gates of Velitrium before a horseman could cross the marches. Where the hell are our reinforcements?!"

Other soldiers drink lightly, holding their appetites in check, knowing at any minute they could be called to duty, like Decius. Over a battered tin mug, the grim Tauran scout quietly answers the questions of Amethu, Kiri and Zahra: "We had a guide once, a Pict turncoat. The savage worked with us when we first took Conajohara. His people killed him in the end. But before they got him, he told tales of a City of the Dead. A place where the ghosts of the Picts' defeated enemies live. To go there would result in the loss of a man's soul. Crazy talk like that. But he believed it. Even knew where it was... west-northwest of here, he said. We've never gone deep enough to find it, if it even exists."

That direction aligns with Amethu's arcane calculations of charts and stars; of the last known location of Thracia, the lost inland colony of Atlantis.


Actions?


Map:

X marks the adventurers' position at Fort Tuscelan.




PC Status:

Amethu: Verulian Grand Magus Cleric/Magic-User 3/2: Move: 9", AC: 4, HP: 9/14, Spells: 3/7 1st lvl, 3/3 2nd lvl
Cruloc: Cimmerian Northman Barbarian 3: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 45/45
Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 4: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 19/19
Grigor: Zamoran Nomad Cleric/Fighter 3/3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 18/29, Spells: 3/4 1st lvl, 2/2 2nd lvl
Iago: Zingaran Southman Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 2, HP: 18/32
Kiri Khutan: Kambujan Easterner Fighter/Magic-User 3/2: Move: 9", AC: 3, HP: 19/19, Spells: 1/3 1st lvl
Zahra: Verulian Amazon Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 3, HP: 20/29
Gnasher: Grigor's Hound: Move: 12", AC: 5, HD: 2+2, HP: 10/11, AT: 1, D: 1-4

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

Nursing her second drink (-2sp), Dahinna gives up searching for Grigor, and joins Zahra and friends, listening to Decius talk about the Pict City of the Dead. "So...if we survive the bloodthirsty Picts and somehow come away from our souls intact, we stand a good chance of pilfering some tasting treasure. Is that what you're saying?"

Dahinna glances around the room, listening to the drunken men, and then turns back to Decius. "Where were you expecting reinforcements from?"

[Urson]

Zahra
Zahra has removed her helmet and unbraided her hair while sitting at the bar. She is likewise on her second drink, and is listening to the soldiers' tales.

[Paladin]

Iago Vazquez de Quesada

"It's a dire situation, amigo," Iago says grimly, clapping the drunken Tiberius on the back. "Perhaps you should thrust your own thin wedge into something and forget your troubles for a moment." He pulls a rakish grin and winks broadly before calling for another drink. "You look like a man who needs more liqour. Buy this man a drink!"

He'll buy one for himself, as well.

[Yrkoon]

Cruloc

The Cimmerian broods over a mug of ale, eyeing the grumbler Tiberius.

"I cannot speak to your reinforcements. But if your balls have turned to water, you may find courage in another flagon. Verily, this hog swill has more grit in it than any hardened legionnaire in Conajohara."

[Bluetongue]

Grigor

Finishes his absolution with Father Andronicus , taking his counsel to think upon, though not too deeply, in his evening meditations.

He does ask the priest how he tends his mission at the fort and among the natives. Is there a task the priest has not been able to fulfill that the party might consider? He says he will come back before they leave the fort so the priest could consecrate and bless him with divine protection.

With that he leaves and joins the tavern and campfire throngs, Gnasher in tow at his heel.

Above the noise he hears the distant drums. He has a thought."You know all sound is vocabulary of sorts. Maybe the drums are not music to dance to but a war cry to inspire warriors. Has anyone thought of employing a mage to cast a 'Comprehend Languages' spell so that he may interpret the beat of the drums? You know discovering 'arise warriors we attack at midnight!' might be prudent to know?""

[ChubbyPixie]

Kiri, never having been one for excessive drink or extended conversation, nurses a cup for the evening. He's not entirely sure what it is, but finds himself nostalgic for the rice based wine of his homeland.

He perks up at the talk of the ghost city. He wonders if the ghosts are real or just a tale and if they can be destroyed with an ancient trident. He has a premonition that soon he will find out... Grandfather just laughs.

[Urson]

Zahra
After two drinks, Zahra begins yawning broadly, and goes off to find a spot to sleep. Plenty of time in the morning to visit the merchants.

[ravenn4544]

Amethu thanks the stranger for the information and asks if he could highlight where he thinks the city of the dead may be. "Is there anything to know about the tactics or the strengths of these Picts?"

[Inferno]

Fort Tuscelan, Conajohara Province, Aquilonian Empire, the World of Hyboria
Day One. Night. 11th day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







Stars unseen in the bright cities of the Hyborian Age loom over the isolated fortress, clear, distant, uncaring.

In Father Andronicus' quarters, Grigor asks the priest how he tends his mission at the fort and among the Picts.

"As with all things, my son. Through patience, faith and determination," the old man croaks.

Grigor asks, "Is there a task unfulfilled that my party might consider?"

"Yes," says the priest. "Convert as many of the heathen savages as you can. And those that refuse the blessings of Mitra, kill."

Suddenly the gypsy hears a commotion outside!

Moments earlier, in the firelit courtyard near the tavern stall, Decius quietly relays unlikely rumors of a forbidden city hidden deep within the Pictish wilderness.



Dahinna asks, "So... if we survive the bloodthirsty Picts and somehow come away from our souls intact, we stand a good chance of pilfering some tasting treasure. Is that what you're saying?"

The Tauran scout smiles, "Yes. But only if you believe in ghost stories."

"Where were you expecting reinforcements from?" asks Dahinna.

"I wasn't. Once we took Conajohara, the King of Aquilonia called back half our army. We weren't given the reason. But getting a thing is always more fun than having it, don't you think?" Decius grins bleakly.

Yawning, Zahra leaves for the extra bunkroom. Amethu asks Decius if he knows the location of the fabled city but the Tauran scout knows only its direction in relation to the fort. Kiri contemplates a necropolis of grandfathers as Amethu says, "Is there anything to know about the tactics or the strengths of these Picts?"

Decius glances at Amethu's bloodstained clothing. "They're quiet and they know the land. By now, they know us too. If they match your number or beat it, they'll strike from ambush. Arrows, for as long as they can manage. Then ax and knife.
"And those scalps... you desecrated their dead. If you left any alive, they'll be hunting you now."

Iago merrily buys a grumbling young soldier a drink. The legionnaire, Tiberius by name, is unsure whether the laughing buccaneer's offer is an insult. But of Cruloc's intent there can be no mistake: "I cannot speak to your reinforcements. But if your balls have turned to water, you may find courage in another flagon. Verily, this swill has more grit in it than any legionnaire here."

It turns out those are fighting words.



Dozens of nearby soldiers turn, hands on hilts. Angry oaths are sworn. By Cruloc's appearance, some recognize from whence he hails: Cimmeria, the enemy of Aquilonia.

Regaining his bravado, Tiberius smiles cold and perilous, "Say it again, barbarian."

The next words could send men leaping up in a storm of swords.


Actions?


Map:

X marks the adventurers' position at Fort Tuscelan.




PC Status:

Amethu: Verulian Grand Magus Cleric/Magic-User 3/2: Move: 9", AC: 4, HP: 9/14, Spells: 3/7 1st lvl, 3/3 2nd lvl
Cruloc: Cimmerian Northman Barbarian 3: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 45/45
Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 4: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 19/19
Grigor: Zamoran Nomad Cleric/Fighter 3/3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 18/29, Spells: 3/4 1st lvl, 2/2 2nd lvl
Iago: Zingaran Southman Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 2, HP: 18/32
Kiri Khutan: Kambujan Easterner Fighter/Magic-User 3/2: Move: 9", AC: 3, HP: 19/19, Spells: 1/3 1st lvl
Zahra: Verulian Amazon Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 3, HP: 20/29
Gnasher: Grigor's Hound: Move: 12", AC: 5, HD: 2+2, HP: 10/11, AT: 1, D: 1-4

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[Yrkoon]

Cruloc

The Cimmerian raises his mug to his lips and makes a face before swallowing.

"I see the reinforcements you were mewling for have arrived. Alas, one of us appears to be unfairly disadvantaged. Permit me to remedy that."

Unhurriedly he stands and slowly pours the remainder out onto the dirt, never breaking eye contact with the lout Tiberius.

"Now each of us has a puddle at his feet."