Open Chronicles Shakedown! At the Crossroad Mire

[Vardan]

BAYOU GARRAMARISMA
CROSSROAD MIRE

The small, furred crone called Hagglesnip was what passed for fleeting authority - or maybe just seniority - within Crossroad Mire. It was for this reason that Vardan had accosted her outside of her ruddy little roadhouse, directing one of the two naga footmen escorting him to take her by the ankles and suspend her perilously over her own cauldron. Slick bubbles grew and burst slowly along the surface of the concoction, as if waiting patiently to receive her.​

​

Vardan cackled like the nuisance he was at this little display, and rubbed his skeletal hands together. "Belike thou art now fully apprised," he hissed, "That I am not one to heedlessly refuse."​

​

The crone twisted and thrashed, but made little headway in the firm grip of the naga footman. "Do your worst!"​

​

"My worst. Prithee, what need hath I to do my worst?" He gestured broadly to his minion, "Such trifles are best left to one's underlings, methinks. Give the beldam a rattle!"​

​

The naga looked to its compatriot, as if seeking clarification, but on only meeting an equally blank stare, returned its attention to Hagglesnip. He began to shake her. Violently. This produced no shortage of squawks, cries, and profanity from the belabored crone.​

​

After a good minute, she had apparently experienced more than enough. "Stop! Fine! Just take it! Let me down! Let me down!"​

​

"Hah! Discard her."​

​

At Vardan's command, the naga footman tossed her aside and into the damp, filthy earth. This dingy little hamlet was far afield from his keep, but it would do well for them to know there was a new force in this bayou - and that it would send a longboat full of misfit, lost naga to extract tribute from the lot of them.​

​

The sooner they gave up their wealth, the sooner Vardan could return, glorious, to the Allir Reach. Then they could carry on their drab, miserable lives in whatever amounted for peace in these parts. Until then...​

​

At his direction, Vardan's two naga bodyguards slithered into Hagglesnip's rickety little emporium, and began tearing noisily through the place in search of valuables. The ruckus made a sad accompaniment to the unfortunate crone's whimpering.​

​

This was all just part of the natural order of things, to be sure.​

 

[Amalric Urahil]

Threnody grimaced as he stepped over a rusty nail sticking out of the wooden walkway which, jutting up hodgepodge above the muck of the swamp, formed one of the many main walkways in this literal backwater.

He stepped off the walkway and onto spongy earth, coming alongside Vardan
while two Naga tore apart the emporium.

“My lord, might you enlighten me, what possible worth to your war chest could this old hag contribute?”

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Vardan Threnody Ryan Ashford

This was all a rather awkward.

And certainly a downgrade from sieging a great trade city.

Then again, considering the headache Fane got from that particular shit show, it might be preferable to shake old ladies down and hope they produce something of value in return. Still. Fane couldn't say he felt particularly good about it.

While Threnody's footslithers went on about their business inside the house Fane stepped up next to the crone called Hagglesnip.

"I wouldn't take it personally." He said in a tone he hoped was at least a little bit diplomatic. "He has been grumpy ever since he woke up as a sack of bones with his noble house demolished."

The haggling snip stared up to Fane with clear contempt.

"Yes, yes, you are not our biggest fan right now, I realize this. I just wanted to apologize, really, I will come back later and maybe fix up your cottage?" She cursed at him in maybe half a dozen foreign snarls. Which was to be expected really.

He raised his hands and stepped away a moment.

"Okay, okay, still fresh, I get it. I will ask again later."

Fane left the swearing crone alone and stepped up to join Vardan and Threnody. It really felt a bit odd to stand there side-by-side, watching one cottage being ransacked. "I still don't think this is a good idea, my Liege. Hearts and minds, that's how you take control of a native population. We are just creating unnecessary strife right now."

Otherwise known as don't shit in the bed you sleep in. It was one thing to ransack that stupid trade city with its infinite amount of mages and paladins they kept pulling out of their backside, but something else entirely to piss off the denizens you actually live among.

 

[Kallach]

Someone was keeping a close eye on them, assessing the situation. That someone was sitting on what appeared to be a little, cartoony cloud, suspended half a dozen meters off the ground, with his legs crossed.

The cloud, or whatever it was, was adorned with two angel-like wings on either side. It appeared ridiculously out of place in this arid landscape, and it didn't look natural at all. It looked like a pair of dove's wings had been stapled to a mass of white cotton candy or a mound of sheep's wool.

As its owner moved, the construct seemed to depress a little, rearranging itself to fit the man's impressive bulk.

The enigmatic stranger, broad-shouldered and dressed in what appeared to be a long-sleeved robe, was a sight to behold. A tall man he was.
His cobalt-blue, boyish eyes swept the landscape, taking in both nature and the locals. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't much to gaze at. He felt like cringing away from the sight for a moment, a sight that was not at all pleasant.

The entire atmosphere was tainted with animosity. The recent escalation of violence by a group of armed individuals hung thick over the neighborhood like a laden curtain.
He couldn't be bothered to care. He wasn't a hero, and 'assisting' the disgruntled locals wouldn't have done him any good. What could they possibly offer him in exchange for his efforts, after all?

Nothing at all, likely. They seemed piss poor, all of them.

"I wonder what they are up to..." he mumbled, stroking his oddly-shaped beard. The sharp sprout of hair curved slightly forward, forming a mock crescent moon.

Vardan
Blackburn Fane
Threnody

 

[Vardan]

Threnody | Blackburn Fane

"My dear Thenardier," Vardan cooed, "All persons, great or small, may contribute to the much-awaited restoration of the Rosewyn Dynasty. Perchance thou'rt familiar with the peasants' saying: 'every bit counts'?"​

​

Vardan was learning to tolerate indignity if it meant he could one day reclaim what was his. If invoking the wisdom of peasants and bandits was necessary, so be it. Once he was restored, he could strike this stretch of history from the record anyway.​

​

More crashing, though it quickly abated. The naga brutes emerged, one with a lockbox and tome, the other with a sack of random ingredients. Likely selected at random rather than for actual value.​

​

Every bit counts. "Take it to the boat."​

​

They slithered off, perhaps relieved to put space between themselves and Vardan even for a short time.​

​

Hollow sockets settled on Blackburn, "Oh? Thou thinkest to lecture me on the methods of rule? I recall thou spending a great deal more time in a grave than upon a throne."​

 

[Amalric Urahil]

“Hmm, perhaps we should hear him out, my lord, as you say… every little bit helps.”

His eyes flicked to where heads peeked out from behind doors and windows of nearby shacks.

“That is the saying, Vel Anir was not built in a day?” Threnody’s head bobbed. “The most powerful city in the world did not arise overnight. Neither will we, though to your foes it might seem so.”

 

[HRavielle]

Ryan had adjusted to her new (un)life but that did not mean she was not grumpy and sarcastic the majority of the time. She had found that she got great pleasure in agreeing with Vardan to piss Threnody and Fane off. She would purposely bide her time for when it was perfect to jump to their Lords defense. It did not matter if she agreed or not, there were very few things that brought her any joy. Fucking with her fellow subjects was one of them.

In this case...she did agree with them. Vardan was not going to win hearts and minds this way. Was she going to tell them she agreed with them? Fuuuuck no.

"Gentleman, our Lord has decided and we must abide by his decision. We have never held the heavy mantle of leadership so we do not know best," she shot an evil little smirk at Fane. He had already confronted her once about her beliefs and that made her just want to fuck with him even more.

 

[Kallach]

His lips were stretched into a crescent moon by a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Kallach was transported by the animated cloud in silence. It sped across the sky, carrying its master until he was within hearing distance of the ragtag group he was keeping an eye on.

The cloud dropped itself to a mere meter and a half above the damp, loose dirt once it arrived. It started to fade away, as if compelled by some unseen force.

Kallach descended to the ground, landing feet first in a puddle of murky water, no longer feeling firmness beneath his bum. The liquid made contact with the reinforced soles of his boots and splashed in every direction, making an audible commotion that would likely alert any passers-by.

Aromas of damp and rot assailed his flared nostrils, a veritable miasm of decomposing wood and fungal spores. His face scrunched up, expressions of disapproval unfurling across it like blooming petels.

"Blerg," he said, but it was more of a grunt than an actual word that came from his tight-lipped mouth. Kallach brought one of the loose sleeves to his face, mopping away at the tiny beads of muddy water.

He was actually hoping that they had heard him, both because he sucked at introducing himself and, to a lesser degree, because he feared that they might lash out, pelt him with arrows, spears, and whatnot.

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Ryan was quickly becoming a right pain in his arse.

It was one thing when Vardan was annoying him. An ancient lich slash skeleton was expected to be at least a little bit overbearing. At the very least the skeleton provided him with a nice place to stay, plenty of entertainment and a purpose.

The woman?

Did nothing of the sort.

"Thank you Thren." He murmured while shooting an annoyed glance to Ryan. "But I suppose we are outnumbered, since Vardan counts for two and Ryan... well... certainly is loud enough to count for two."

A shrug then.

"If these people start to rise up and try to burn down our keep, expect me to say I told you so very loudly."

He was going to say more but out of nowhere another man appeared. Kallach was large, stately and somehow managed to fly. Regardless of Fane's misgivings about Vardan and his current plans? He immediately stepped up in front of the skeleton-y Lichling.

"Halt. You are in the presence of His Undeadliness, Lord Vardan of the Rosewood. State your business, knave."

Was Fane mimicking Vardan's speech out of respect or out of mockery?

It was difficult to ascertain this in the present. The sword he pulled out of his sheath had nothing funny about it however.

Threnody Ryan Ashford Kallach

 

[Vardan]

Threnody | Blackburn Fane | Ryan Ashford | Kallach

​

Ryan appeared and affirmed that Vardan's approach was flawless - which, of course, only indicated to Vardan that perhaps his approach was not flawless at all.​

​

"Hmmnnh," Vardan mused, tapping his chin, "Mayhaps I hath been a mite... Hasty..."​

​

Hagglesnip whimpered distantly, as if to confirm. Vardan ignored her. Blackburn may very well have possessed something approaching a point. Here, in this bayou, was a chance to experiment. And not with just the dark magick he usually trafficked in.​

​

He was preparing to direct someone to help Hagglesnip and return her belongings when a peculiar interloper descended. Damp and unkempt, he said something like "blerg." Some bizarre species of simpleton, then.​

​

Blackburn was already calling him names.​

​

"Silence, Blackburn. Here stands an opportunity to attempt thine own methods."​

​

Vardan made a little shooing motion. "Go forth. Procure his loyalty with thine esteemed diplomacy."​

 

[Amalric Urahil]

Remarking on the appearance of the cloud-born stranger with a raised brow, the scaled sorcerer turned to Ryan Ashford. Let Fane deal with the new arrival. He was sure the lycanthrope could handle whatever this stranger proved to be.

In a low voice that seemed more a brush against her mind than actual spoken words, Threnody softly said, "Welcome my lady. How is un-life? I hear the adjustment can be... difficult."

 

[Kallach]

"Woah woah. Hold your horse, big guy. I'm not here to pick a fight."

If it weren't for the fact that he'd just fallen out of the sky, he'd be offended. Kallach couldn't say he blamed them for behaving so rashly. He was a foreigner to them, and they were to him.

"Do you greet all of your acquaintances with a sword in hand, or am I entitled to a special treatment, eh?"


It was all a joke, after all. Kallach was as unconcerned about the odd, hairy man as he was about the unsightly hag they had just throttled. Despite this, he chose not to aggravate the situation, stretching his arms and displaying the flats of his palms in a defensive way, implying that he was attempting to dispel the atmosphere of confrontation.

He shifted his gaze away from Fane and toward the skeletal man. The bag-o-bones spoke in an odd manner, using antiquated language and a solemn tone. Kallach laughed at the whole thing and took a step closer, his boyish eyes twinkling with naive wonder. They were wide, gentle, and not at all frightening, with noticeable lashes framing them.

"My name is Kallach, and I'm an explorer from Elbion! I'm also a sorcerer, to some extent. I was entrusted with doing some research in this small corner of the planet, and I simply happened to come across your little gathering."

One of the nagas piqued his interest, so he pointed to it, waving his finger in the air as if to accentuate an unspoken point.

Threnody
Vardan
Blackburn Fane
Ryan Ashford

 

[HRavielle]

Ryan just smiled sweetly at Fane and his irritation. He was so easy to rile up. The other two were fun to mess with but he got so grumpy. It was kind of cute.

Her attention was drawn away from the cloud man, Fane, and Vardan when Threnody spoke to her. The gentle caress of his voice always sent shivers down her spine.

“Just peachy. I am loving being the only sane one in this shitshow,” there was a small smile on her face.

She was getting used to it although there was an over abundance of men and she wouldn’t be opposed to have a woman to gossip with. Not that there was much to gossip about.

“I’d much rather be alive still but shit happens,” she shrugged.

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Ryan Ashford Vardan Threnody Kallach

Kill them all, no not like that. Shake 'em down- oh no, not anymore.

Vardan was less Lichlord and more a critter who was perpetually indecisive about the path he wished to take, which he took out on Fane. It was... a little bit exhausting. With a degree of hesitance the man sheathed his sword again and seized up Kallach.

At least on a surface level the lad seemed to be honest about his intentions.

"Oh, just the ones I consider the biggest threat, lad." A compliment almost never seized to grease the ways to diplomacy. That's at least what Fane was told. Regardless of his commentary on Vardan's way of rule, Blackburn Fane was not exactly a master diplomat. Look at him. It was no coincidence he woke up most weeks in a ditch with a sword through his chest.

Negotiation wasn't exactly a practiced skill in his repertoire.

"My Lord Vardan here," And he gestured again to the skeleton behind him. "-is in the progress of bringing order back into his demesne."

He wasn't entirely certain what a 'demesne' was, but Vardan kept going on about it, so it must certainly be something important.

"This here village is the first step to that. But, my Lord is always searching for strong arms, sharp minds and skilled talents. You seem to be quite..." Fane looked him up and down. Truth to be told he wasn't sure what to make of the lad.

Who descended down the sky on a cloud? How do you have a conversation with someone like that?

"...intriguing. If you swear fealty to Lord Vardan, he will reward you richly, as he comes back into his power and restores his house."

Was there anything more Fane could say?

No, probably not. He did the whole check list of 'stroke ego', 'stroke ego some more' and 'offer rich rewards if you bend the knee metaphorically'.

So Blackburn stepped back and allowed Vardan to regain the initiative.

If he wished it.

 

[Vardan]

Threnody | Blackburn Fane | Ryan Ashford | Kallach

For a few moments, Vardan remained silent, only watching Kallach. Then he evidently realized that Blackburn was actually finished, and his head turned to Fane. "Oh? Nothing more? Well. Thou'rt a deal more witful than thy appearance evinces," he rasped.​

​

Such appeals for allegiance were expected to be a great deal longer in Vardan's own day. Perhaps it was for the better.​

​

Vardan's eye-sockets settled back on Kallach. "What shall thy design be, sorcerer? Be quick about it. The other hovels of this place yet require my attention."​

 

[Amalric Urahil]

"Peachy.... Shitshow... Shit happens..." Threnody mused, tapping a finger to his chin and tilting his head back to peer down at the woman, then his lips spread open in a smile which peeled back over his too-sharp teeth.

"Aren't we all a little insane, each in thine own way?"

His gaze slid across the the newcomer as he watched the exchange between the stranger and Fane.

"Hmm."

Reaching out with his mind, the sorcerer sought to read the thoughts of this stranger.

Kallach

 

[Kallach]

"Uh-huh."

Kallach rubbed the side of his head and looked at Fane sheepishly. Is it possible to restore order? What do you expect to find in a shithole like this? To him, it all looked like a tall order, and he couldn't care less about the location or the people who lived there. Truth be told, he had no idea what the little hamlet's name was.

"Riiiight. I have no intention of swearing fealty to anyone. I'm content with my current position as an explorer in the magical college's service."


He snorted and reached into his sleeve. Kallach rummaged through the contents until his fingertips came across the device he was looking for.


He twisted his wrist, grabbed the object, and pulled his hand back, holding a long, ornate pipe between his middle and pointer finger's knuckles.

"But I can offer you my services as an independent contractor for a price. A 'you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours' kind of deal."

Kallach stuffed the pipe's chamber full of dried, crushed herbs, pressing his thumb into the mixture. He kept adding on until the bowl was halfway full of compacted plant matter. He then placed the end of the long stem against his lips while hovering a finger just under the bowl. Tiny sparks of electricity jumped off the digit, striking the metallic construct and igniting its contents.

The male drew deeply, filling his cheeks with aromatic smoke.

"Oh, by the by."


One of Kallach's eyes shifted independently like that of a chameleon, looking straight at Threnody.


"Just a friendly warning. You might want to stop probing my mind. I'm not gonna stop you myself because it doesn't bother me, but the last time someone tried their face bloated up like a balloon and they dropped dead-"



Vardan
Blackburn Fane
Threnody
Ryan Ashford

 

[Amalric Urahil]

Threnody’s slitted pupils stared back, emotionless.

“What is a balloon?”

 

[Vardan]

Threnody | Blackburn Fane | Ryan Ashford | Kallach

Slaying Thenardier? With but an errant thought? Unlikely! Vardan cackled audibly, and when he had his fill, made a motion as if wiping a tear from his eye.​

​

"Belike some puerile artifice," Vardan mused to his lackey, "But it is no matter. If this hireling-of-letters requireth payment..."​

​

Vardan patted himself down and eventually found it: a small coinpurse. He opened it like a particularly delicate miser, and retrieved from it a gold coin, visibly stained with dry blood. Picked off an enterprising (but unfortunate) orc during the siege of Alliria.​

​

He flicked it disdainfully to Kallach. It landed quietly in the dirt just at his feet.​

​

"Two sorcerers have posted themselves as guards to this dreg heap's library. Dispatch them as thou deems fit, and I shall yet render thee a greater reward."​

 

[Kallach]

Threnody | Blackburn Fane | Ryan Ashford | Kallach

Slaying Thenardier? With but an errant thought? Unlikely! Vardan cackled audibly, and when he had his fill, made a motion as if wiping a tear from his eye.​

​

"Belike some puerile artifice," Vardan mused to his lackey, "But it is no matter. If this hireling-of-letters requireth payment..."​

​

Vardan patted himself down and eventually found it: a small coinpurse. He opened it like a particularly delicate miser, and retrieved from it a gold coin, visibly stained with dry blood. Picked off an enterprising (but unfortunate) orc during the siege of Alliria.​

​

He flicked it disdainfully to Kallach. It landed quietly in the dirt just at his feet.​

​

"Two sorcerers have posted themselves as guards to this dreg heap's library. Dispatch them as thou deems fit, and I shall yet render thee a greater reward."​

"Money isn't something I'm interested in, but I'll settle for a few reasonable favors. We can talk about them in depth once I'm done with my assignment."

Kallach examined the gold coin and pressed the sole of his boot against it, burying the valuable metal in the loose earth.

"In the meantime," he grinned thinly, the corners of his mouth extending slightly, "I'll need assistance. Assign me one of your guys as a guide. They'll accompany me to the library, wherever that may be."


There is a library here? Well damn, color him surprised. The locals, Kallach assumed, were ignorant, yet they actually had a library at their disposal. He was now intrigued. What size could it possibly be?

Morever, who were the poor sods tasked with safeguarding the place? Surely they weren't high-ranked sorcerers. They couldn't be, right? How in tarnation could this measly pleasantly congregation even garner their attention?

So many questions, yet so few answers.

 

[Vardan]

Threnody | Blackburn Fane | Ryan Ashford | Kallach

​

Vardan watched as one of his hard earned ryals was ground into the dirt. Perhaps he would have frowned if he could. As it presently stood, he only watched Kallach with palpable displeasure.​

​

"Ah. I had assumed thou wouldst simply drop them dead, as thou thought to do to our dear Thenardier..."​

​

He shrugged, spreading his hands. Bones clacked. "But if thou requireth assistance in this trifling matter, I shall oblige..."​

​

His retinue was nothing to sneeze at. But he did not trust Ashford to not destroy the library. And he did not trust Thenardier to not attempt to kill this strange man. And with the naga occupied...​

​

"Sir Blackburn Fane shall accompany thee," Vardan rasped, and his neck creaked as he turned to look at him, "Nnnnh. Yes, he shall. 'Twill be fitting enough."​

 

[HRavielle]

"I will go as well, Fane may try to eat the books since he doesn't know how to read," Ryan shot Fane the most innocent of faces.

She then turned to Vardan. She, honestly, wanted to go to the library as well. A small connection to her old life. A small chance to feel normal again.

"If that is alright with you, my Lord..."

Vardan Blackburn Fane Threnody Kallach

 

[Blackburn Fane]

Vardan Ryan Ashford Kallach Threnody

He had taken those steps back specifically so he'd be left alone.

But no.

There they went again. Including him. The gaze that Vardan received was positively withering. Almost as if it was Fane's head that was shaped in a skull. Yet, after a moment he'd incline his head and sigh. "Yes, my Lord, I will do what I can of course."

What else was there to do?

Decline? Oh, surely, but Fane hadn't gotten to be this old without knowing which way the wind blew. Vardan was on the up's. If he stayed with him?

He'd probably get pretty far.

Hopefully.

"Fane knows perfectly well how to read. I read your diary last night after all and I still laugh my ass off at you needing your daddy cus ya were afraid of the shadows til you were sixteen." Fane hissed like a catty twenty-two year old instead of the true wisened age he was.

Why was it that Ryan brought out the very worst in him?

 

[Kallach]

Kallach clasped his palms and conjured up a...book? Suddenly, a massive floating tome appeared out of nowhere. Its surface was chased with precious stones and fashioned in the likeness of evil beasts.

The book opened gently, allowing them to rummage over its pages (or lack thereof). The insides of the book were a single reflecting mass of blankness. It appeared to be a portal, though it was difficult to discern and even more difficult to look at.

Plumes of smoke rose from the edges, spilling out into the open and condensing quickly into a single point. They were eventually successful in re-forming the cloud that Kallach had used to spy on them.

The bizarre construct appeared to be both corporeal and non-corporeal at the same time.

The cloud hovered a good meter or so off the ground, its wings motionless. They were larger, more pronounced this time, offering a significant boost in speed.

Kallach hopped atop it, planting his bum firmly onto the pile of cotton-like material.

"So, Fane, which ones do you prefer, hardcover or paperback? I'm guessing the former tastes better because of the leather, no?"

It was a half-hearted joke on his part, although Kallach wouldn't have been much surprised if he caught Fane munching on things that aren't supposed to be ingested.

Blackburn Fane
Ryan Ashford

 

[Vardan]

Threnody | Blackburn Fane | Ryan Ashford | Kallach

​

Vardan watched as the interloper utilized some obscure ritual to summon another winged cloud, then seated himself upon it. A perplexing choice - the library was not that far aways off. He gave his chin a few thoughtful taps and eventually said, "If it is what thou wisheth to deal with, Ryan, then by all means... Have at it."​

​

Personally he would not be caught dead accompanying a mere hireling. Sworn servants and close retinue only. Vardan began to plod off in the opposite direction, gesturing for Threnody to follow.​

​

"Come, Thenardier. Another emporium yet beckons."​