8/05/03
                       THE COMING OF THE ZIOTH
                           TURN FIFTY-FOUR


   Johannes shook his head slightly, trying to calm his mind,
struggling to sort out that which he heard from the strange vision he
had seen. "So this former companion of yours was performing odd
experiments on sheep... the fact that he caused the bones of that
sheep to bend... it reminds me too much of what we saw with Rosteral
for comfort. Tell me, do any of you know if this Ziedon possessed magic
that could slay a man while rendering him as cold as ice?"
   Korisca grimaced as she once again recalled her encounter with the
mage. "I don't doubt that he could do such a thing, if he had enough
ill will towards the man. I don't doubt that there is any harm he
couldn't cause." Her fear of the necromancer was obvious. "Who is this
Rosteral?"
   Ardith described the circumstances of the murder, with occasional
comments by the others. Korisca immediately recognized it from
conversations she'd heard in Ranes' inn, but the first-hand description
she was hearing now was far more informative.
   As Ardith finished her account, Johannes squinted thoughtfully into
the distance. "Ardith? Do you know if this Ziedon has any exploitable
weaknesses? We may find ourselves forced to subdue him should we meet
him again..." His voice trailed off.
   Kreemon replied, "Ziedon seemed all right to me, a little dark and
scary at first, but an all right guy. I don't think we need to fight
him." A strange tone emerged in Kreemon's voice. "I don't know if I
would want to try. You all saw what he did to Sahlman."
   "Not here," said Ardith. "It's too open. When we stop, I'll say my
mind about the wizard, if we can have privacy. For now, I'll just say I
cannot think of any special weakness, nor can I think of what we may do
against him, if indeed he has become an enemy. I shall pray on this
question as we ride."
   Farmland continued to line the road, sometimes separated from it by
good-sized patches of woods. Shortly after noon, the road split off
towards the distant manor of Sir Gerevin, one of three hundred knights
who resided in the barony due to the close relationship between Huerten
and the king. Or, more pragmatically, due to Rang's need for protection
on its southern border.
   Kreemon looked over the journal he'd taken from the gatehouse while
they rode. After some time, he shook his head. "Hey, college-boy, see
if you can figure this out," he said, and tossed the book to Johannes.
   Johannes examined the final few entries himself for a while,
eventually smiling and nodding. "I think I have most of it figured,
although there are some parts that remain cryptic. This last portion--"
He cleared his throat and read.
   "Morning shift. Tular, Iroden, Lister. I'm guessing those were the
guards on duty. Exit 'csb' -- probably the constable, if I don't miss
my guess. Enter constable. Exit horse trader, 'htn' -- I'm not really
sure what that could be shorthand for, I may have to look further back
in the journal to get a bigger sample space -- and then a number, four-
nine-three-four-nine. Not sure what the number would refer to... but
it's very close to two of the other numbers listed nearby, referring to
other traders entering or exiting the city. Message -- hold apprentice
healer, healer all capitalized. Some emphasis. A number, one-two-zero-
zero-three. Right next to the other number by a message... Enter four
spice traders. Another number, four-nine-three-five-three. Exit
constable, enter constable. Message -- deliver? Delivered to? Nut
trader, one-two-zero-zero-two. Exit nut trader 'htn' -- oh, of course,
Huerten! Their destination must be the city of Huerten. Four-nine-
three-four-seven. Hm... The thing that most immediately seems to be of
significance is the message to hold the apprentice healer... I wonder
if that might refer to Ardith? Wasn't she helping in the temple with
healing? In any event... let me see if I can find anything that more
clearly refers to what we might need to know..." So saying, Johannes
leafed backward through the journal, scanning carefully over the
abbreviated notes for items of interest.
   There wasn't much to be gained from reading the logbook, but it was
also not totally uninteresting. Many entries contained the capitalized
abbreviation 'HLR,' even stretching back far before the group arrived,
and even more entries contained a lowercase 'hlr.' Johannes noticed
Rosteral's name in quite a few places, and many other names written
out in full, but some entries were so cryptic as to have single-letter
abbreviations. For example, some pages were littered with lines such as
'exp s trd 32132,' 'imp w crv 39024' and 'cg.' There appeared to be
about nine guards who handled the various shifts, although earlier in
the logbook, some of the names were different (the book appeared to
cover about a year and a half). The numbers which followed most lines
seemed fairly random at first, but when taking the leading
abbreviations into account, it became clear that there were several
sets of numbers, each of which generally increased over time, with
several numbers appearing out of sequence. The 'ent' and 'ext' lines
had the highest numbers, with lower numbers for 'msg,' and still lower
numbers for 'exp' and 'imp.' Some other leading abbreviations were much
less common, and had the lowest numbers.
   A brief pain in his forehead convinced Johannes that he should put
the book aside for a while. Reading on a horse was hard on the eyes.
   The day became considerably colder as the afternoon set in, and when
the wind picked up, everyone was glad for the warm clothing they'd
bought in Dunweig. Late in the afternoon, a fine flurry of snow came
down, the tiny particles seeming to hover in the air, darting back and
forth forever, although some made their way to the ground along an
imperceptible path, and slowly whitened it.
   A splitting headache assaulted Johannes at intervals along the road,
but it passed quickly each time. He could no longer blame the logbook,
but perhaps it was the cold.
   When twilight approached, the group saw the Osander River ahead, a
tributary of the West Roe which passed through a small farming village.
With evening setting in and the temperature dropping still further,
everyone agreed this would be a good place to stop. Huerten was now but
four days away.
   The largest building in the village was the inn, although it was far
smaller than anything of its kind in Dunweig. The inn was also the only
building that looked sturdy enough to withstand any real storm, an
event that did not seem so unlikely, given the early snow. While
people's homes had smoke billowing out of holes in the roof, or even
leaking out of shutters for lack of a hole, the inn had a well-sealed
stone chimney which let a steady stream of wood-smoke out into the
hovering snow.
   The inn was as warm inside as could be expected. Although there was
neither counter nor bar, a shelf nailed into the wall held several
bottles of hard drink, and barrels of ale and mead were stacked in a
corner. A young boy, perhaps six years old, sat on a barrel, and a man
of thirty repaired a slat of a broken shutter.
   The man turned his head when the group entered, then went back to
work. "It's eight diyar a night, and I only have three rooms. Some of
the farmers offer warm meals for one or two, and Maralorn lets his
stable for a diyar a horse; he's had room since his horses died, and
he takes good care of strangers' animals. You can take ale for
yourselves, and pay a diyar for every two mugs when you leave, but I
pour the fiery stuff myself. You can fill your skins at the river,
about a mile upstream is the cleanest." He looked back again, glancing
at each person's sheathed or packed weapons, then returned again to his
work. "If you're here to rob me, I'm not worth your effort; your best
bet is Dunweig."
   "I will take care of the horses," Kreemon said. "Where can I find
Maralorn?" Kreemon followed the directions of the innkeeper and headed
back outside, pulling his coat closer to himself to ward off the cold
and snow. He trudged up to Maralorn's house, his war dog at his side,
and pounded on the wooden door.
   Maralorn opened the door immediately, almost as if he had been
standing by the door and waiting, his hand itching to open it for
somebody. The man was in his fifties, and had a tired look about him.
He had thick eyebrows and powerful arms, but other than those, there
was nothing to distinguish him from a myriad of other people Kreemon
had met. Kreemon was not sure he'd recognize the man if he saw him in a
crowded street.
   "I have five horses to stable. The innkeeper said that you have
room. Can I stable them here?"
   Maralorn squinted and looked into Kreemon's eyes for well over a
minute. Long as the interval was, Kreemon could not help but stare back
quietly. Finally, Maralorn turned about and closed the door, leaving
Kreemon outside.
   Kreemon muttered something about brain-addled simpletons as he
stalked back to the inn. He shook off the fresh snow, his actions
mimicked far more vigorously by Bork, entered the inn and said to the
innkeeper, "Maralorn didn't like my looks much. Didn't say a word, just
stared at me and then shut the door in my face. Any other places to
stable horses around here?"
   The innkeeper froze in place and dropped the shutter he was about to
reattach. He turned around slowly and gave a fearful glance at the boy,
who was still sitting calmly on a barrel. The boy paid no attention,
continuing to kick his feet gently and gaze about as if totally unaware
of the situation. The innkeeper appeared somewhat relieved. Still, he
pointed at the door and said, "Out, all of you. Don't return until
you've stabled your horses with Maralorn."
   Kreemon drew his sword partially out, showing a few hands of steel,
and took a menacing step towards the innkeeper. "By the Four! I have
had enough with strange dealings, murders and magic. What is going on
here!"
   Johannes shook his head. "By the gods..."
   The little boy's head suddenly shot up, and the innkeeper took a
step towards Kreemon. "I said, get out!"
   And just like that, Kreemon did.
   Johannes' jaw dropped at this strange spectacle, and he struggled
for a moment to even find speech. "What in Jarram's name just
_happened_?" he finally managed to choke out, staring at the innkeeper
disbelievingly.
   The innkeeper waved his hands towards the door. "I said out. Don't
return until the horses are safely stabled." He seemed to have a sudden
insight, and he went over to the broken shutter, picked up the mallet
he'd been using, and raised the not particularly threatening weapon at
Johannes.
   Johannes shook his head in frank disbelief, raising his hands
appeasingly. "No need to threaten, sir..."  With this, he turned and
left into the darkening night, making his way towards Maralorn's and
sparing only a brief glace for Kreemon.
   Kreemon growled as he sheathed his sword and drew his bow. Nocking
an arrow, Kreemon pushed the door open but was careful to stay outside.
Drawing back in a smooth movement, Kreemon fired off an arrow at the
boy through the open door frame and then just as quickly nocked and
fired a second arrow at the boy.
   Korisca timidly said, "Excuse me? Kreemon? Maybe it isn't a good
idea to be shooting at a child until we know what is really going on.
Maybe I should try to slip into Maralorn's and see what I can find."
She looked to the others for support.
   The boy fell to the floor, but then Kreemon noticed that both his
arrows were embedded in the wall. The boy got up and ran behind the
innkeeper, who walked right out the door and yelled, "I said get out!
You are no longer welcome here. Put down your weapon and leave now!" As
Kreemon ran, leaving his bow on the ground where he'd stood, the
innkeeper said with a weak voice. "The others may stable their horses
and stay if they like." The innkeeper suddenly looked tired and
regretful, and he beckoned to the boy, who helped him back inside.
   Ardith stood, open mouthed and in disbelief at Kreemon's firing
arrows at the child, but then, seeing Kree run away as quickly as he
had taken action in excess of what she would have thought required,
grabbed her Holy Symbol and cried out, "In the Light of Andritha, STOP
THIS!"
   Kay was completely confused. When Kreemon nocked his arrow, she
reflexively took up and strung her own bow, and in one smooth motion,
brought an arrow to the string and began to draw, the wood and sinew of
her composite bow creaking with her effort. Then, seeing the result of
Kree's shots, and seeing Kreemon run away, she turned to Ardith and in
a whisper asked her, "What in the Name of Andritha is happening here?"
   Ardith replied, also in a whisper, "I don't know, but there is
certainly an enchantment of some sort at work here."
   Kay retrieved Kreemon's bow. A good weapon, she thought, was not to
be abandoned in the street. She inspected the string. Although it would
probably require minor adjustment, it wasn't permanently damaged.
   Johannes shook his head and scowled as Kreemon passed, but he
continued on to Maralorn's house. When he arrived and knocked on the
door, he found his reception was to be no better than Kreemon's.
Maralorn stared him in the eye for ten seconds or so, then closed his
door, leaving Johannes alone under the dark sky and sparkling
snowflakes.
   Johannes trudged his way back to the rest of the group, shaking his
head disbelievingly. "What is going on here? It seems that every place
we go, bizarre events dog us. Maralorn isn't even responding when I
attempt to talk to him about stabling the horses. Perhaps I should ask
the innkeeper if he could help us talk to the man."
   "You may," said Ardith, "but after what happened here, I have doubts
that he will answer."
   Johannes shook his head resignedly and trudged back to the inn.
   "Maybe I should try to break into Maralorn's house, and see what
happened to him?" Korisca suggested hesitantly. 
   "Break into..?" Johannes stopped walking and turned back towards the
group. "That would mean..."
   "Mean what?" asked Korisca timidly, "I just thought that I could go
and see if maybe he is hurt, or needs help."
   Johannes shook his head slowly, massaging his temples. "Never mind.
I..." he floundered for words for a moment, "spoke hastily."
   A snow-covered wagon approached slowly from the direction of
Dunweig. A single rider sat high up in a wooden seat, holding two
horses by the reins. He was still several hundred yards distant.
   "So how's Dunweig this time of year?" As Johannes watched the wagon
approach, a tall, scrawny man slapped him on the shoulder, startling
him. The man was even taller than Johannes, which was very unusual, and
although he looked young, late twenties perhaps, he was missing several
teeth and had patches of wrinkled skin on his face. Without removing
his hand from Johannes' shoulder, he produced a grin for each of the
others, Ardith, Korisca and then Kay, for whom he spared a wink as
well.
   When Kreemon got his bearings, a quarter mile past the last house of
the village, he was even more angry than before. "Ghost boys, magic
voices. I am getting tired of this." Kreemon turned around and tested
whether any unseen force would keep him from the village. Feeling no
resistance, he headed back to the inn.
   Johannes started slightly at the hand on his shoulder, but calmed
himself quickly, turning to speak to this strange young man. "There
have been some murders in Dunweig under mysterious circumstances. Five
people had died already when we left, and who knows if it's been going
on more. The whole town is in a stir over it." He shook his head,
looking concerned.
   "Really? Fascinating. I heard about the first one, but four more? I
wish the constable and his officers luck. They haven't had a murder to
investigate in... well I don't know how long. And the murderers? Are
there any suspects?"
   "None that I've heard of. The middle three were supposed to have
been an apprentice killing his master and wife and suffering fatal
injuries in return according to Constable Hernholz, but that just seems
suspicious to me so close to the other murders. I'm not so sure we've
seen the truth in that case yet."
   "Really," the man said. Then, as quickly as his attention had fixed
on Johannes, it left and shifted to Korisca. "And Maelbourg? How is the
House? I hear their autumn songs are getting better each year."
   Kay, looking towards the far side of town, spotted Kreemon topping
the crest of a hill, but he soon disappeared from view again.
   Korisca looked at the man and frowned slightly. "Maelbourg hasn't
changed very much in the years that I lived there, I can't imagine it
has changed in the two weeks I've been gone. I can't say about the
autumn songs." She smiled, with a hint of regret, "I'm fairly tone
deaf." She cast a glance towards Johannes, as if she had something to
say, then she looked down, biting her lip.
   "A tone-deaf Maelbourg girl. There's a first for everything. He
looked around, and his eyes fixed on Kreemon, who was just topping the
last hill. "I'd recognize an Elgony man a mile away." He cupped his
hands around his mouth, which was probably unnecessary, and called,
"How's Baron Velhelm holding up? Elgony's changed a bit, eh?"
   Johannes, visibly unnerved, suddenly blurted out, "Who _are_ you,
and how do you know all this?" He massaged his forehead, a confused
expression on his face.
   "Oh, I could recognize an Elgony man a mile away," he began, his
attention totally removed from Kreemon.
   Kreemon stalked forward, anger clearly on his face. Reaching the
group, Kreemon said to the stranger, "I don't know you. Keep your
distance from me!" Turning to Kay and seeing the extra bow she carried,
he said, "Kay, thanks for picking up my bow. Can I have it back please?
I say we set fire to this whole village. It reeks of dark magic."
   Kay handed back the bow with a worried expression on her face.
"Kreemon, no! We don't know that these people mean us harm."
   Detecting the briefest moment of silence, the stranger continued as
if he hadn't heard Kreemon threaten his entire village. "Yes, I could
spot an Elgony man a mile away in my sleep." He looked again at
Johannes, and his eyes opened wide. "Have you ever _met_ the king, or
are the stories of him walking among the commoners just rumors?"
   Johannes glared briefly at Kreemon, before turning to the strange
man. "Rumors only. Besides, Duerstadt is a large city. So you can tell
where we come from? How? Who are you? Why do you feel the need to
flaunt this?"
   The stranger smiled widely, flattening a few wrinkled patches of
skin and creating a few more. "Tonnel Fleminton," he said, bowing low.
He stood and seemed about to answer the rest of Johannes' questions,
when he noticed Ardith. "I'd bet anything you studied at the Zadothar
seminary. Zilgard himself studied and taught there, but you know that."
   Kreemon shook his head. "My arrows went through that boy. He is a
ghost or something. There is evil here." Kreemon looked over at the
stranger and took a step towards him. With one hand on his sword hilt,
Kreemon reached out with his other hand and poked the stranger in the
shoulder.
   Korisca hung back, a worried look on her face. Hesitantly, she said,
"Kreemon, are you sure this is the smart thing to do?" Nervously, she
wrung her hands and looked at the stranger. "If he meant us any harm
why would he let us know he knows who we are?"
   The stranger's body responded in an interesting way, his slightly
hunched back straightening, and his shoulders twisting far more than
necessary. The response was somewhat exaggerated, but not quite
unnatural. He provided Kreemon with another of his wide grins. "No
offense taken at all. I wouldn't expect less of an Elgony man, from
what I've heard." He followed his statement up with a wink.
   "This is getting far out of hand," Ardith said quietly to Kay.
   "I think the boy just dodged the arrows," Kay muttered to Ardith.
"and he thinks it was a ghost."
   In the meantime, the wagon approaching the village had picked up
speed, and had gotten quite a bit closer, although the old driver sat
in the same position, letting snow collect on his hood.
   Kreemon's ears prickled. "I know what I saw. The arrows went right
through him. The man had some sort of witch voice that forced me to do
things against my will. This town is evil. We should either burn it to
the ground or ride on. We won't be spending a peaceful night here."
   "You're correct in that there's obviously magic here," Johannes
said, "but it does not then follow that it is evil. Or do you wish to
say that the lady," Johannes nodded at Ardith, "is evil? It would be
the worst injustice to inflict harm on those undeserving, and thus far,
there has been strange behavior, but no violence or other criminality
evident. I would that you would stay your violent impulses and instead
seek to uncover the truth of these matters."
   "She hasn't cast strange magics on me." Kreemon turned to the
stranger. "So, what do you think stranger? Would you get upset if I
torched your village?"
   Tonnel Fleminton continued to smile, revealing the gaps between his
otherwise healthy teeth where several were missing. "Ah, the famed
violence of Elgony men. I guess that's what comes from a leader like
Baron Wentley. I hope Velhelm is fixing things up, don't you?"
   Kreemon looked at the others and said, "See?" as if Tonnel's words
proved Kreemon's thoughts. He pulled his pack off his back, set it
down, and rummaged through it muttering, "I thought I had some oils and
torches in here..."
   Tonnel Fleminton went right on talking, distracted immediately by
Kay. "I should have recognized a girl from Gernainia as soon as I saw
her!" He paused in confusion for a moment. "Where is that, exactly?"
   Distracted by Tonnel, no one had noticed that the wagon-driver had
continued to accelerate. Now that his horses were quite audible enough
to hear over Tonnel's babbling, everyone noticed him. In seconds, he
slowed down and stopped within yards of the party. "Is he bothering
you?" the man asked. "Go away before someone knocks out a few more of
your teeth."
   "Very well," Tonnel replied, smiling, seemingly unaware that he'd
just been threatened. "You should stay and talk a while. Fascinating
people. You'll have to tell me how you liked Dunweig later." With that,
he turned and walked away.
   "What are you doing here?" the driver said to the group, his eyes on
Kreemon. "Get out of the snow before you freeze to death."
   Kreemon looked up from his pack and said, "Me? I am getting ready to
burn this cursed village to the ground." He went back to sorting
through his pack. "Ghost children... magical voices... mind reading
simpletons... Evil magic."
   Johannes snapped impatiently. "You aren't going to burn anything! If
you're willing to tolerate a common gutter-thief," he said, his finger
swinging to point at Korisca, "you can tolerate a village with no proof
of evildoing!" 
   Kreemon hiked a thumb at Ardith while he continued to dig through
his pack. "Talk to her, she is the one that let her join up." He then
slammed his pack down in frustration. "I don't have any oil." He looked
up at Kay and Ardith. "Do either of you have any oil flasks?"
   Korisca looked at Kreemon in frank astonishment, but held her
tongue. She moved towards Ardith, almost subconsciously seeking out the
priestess' protection.
   Johannes looked towards Ardith, a pleading expression on his face.  
"Please, we have to stop him. What he's going to do..."
   Ardith stood straight, managing an authoritative look that made her
seem beyond her eighteen years. "Kreemon, no one will lend you oil
until there is something to burn. This village need not be evil, merely
because a boy dropped to the floor to dodge your arrows."
   "Arrows?" the driver said, startling Ardith, who was also shocked at
her own lack of discretion. "You shot Yilly? You're mad." After a
moment he yelled, "Go away," waving his arm in the air, though not at
Kreemon. Tonnel had perched himself on a wooden post not ten yards
away. He dismounted and started to leave, when the driver called him
again. "No wait! Gather anyone you can find! We'll need some help
here." He looked back at Kreemon. "I don't know what you think you're
doing here, attacking children and talking about murdering a whole
village. We may not have a jail, but we have men enough to hold you
back."
   Kreemon looked at the driver through slanted eyes, "So you are part
of this too, eh?" He put his hand on the hilt of his sword before he
continued. "I think you had better start talking pretty fast about what
magics are going on in this village. I know about the ghost children
and the magical voices of command. Start spilling the truth before I
start spilling blood."
   Johannes, his face twisted in anger and frustration, stepped behind
Kreemon, pulling out his dagger and resting it at the small of
Kreemon's back. "Undo your swordbelt, Kreemon. You're a menace to the
innocent, and I will _not_ permit you to drown your fear of that which
you do not understand in blood."
   Kreemon took his hand off his sword hilt and let it dangle next to
the scabbard saying. "Now, let's not do anything rash," he said. With
his left hand he reached up for the buckle of his sword belt. While
Johannes' attention was drawn to the slackening belt, Kreemon executed
two simultaneous actions.
   The first was to grab his scabbard with his right hand to keep
control of his blade. The second was to take advantage of Johannes'
distraction, by whipping his head backwards. As soon as he made contact
with the man's nose, he whirled around to his right, using his sheathed
sword to knock Johannes' knife away, and using the momentum of his turn
to swing his left fist into the right side of Johannes' face.
   The second strike missed, not because Kreemon's aim was poor, but
because Johannes had collapsed on the ground. He lay with his nose
bleeding and his eyes wide open, as if dead or in a trance.
   "Stop this!" Ardith yelled. "Kreemon, what have you done?" Ardith
rushed to her newest companion and fell to one knee, feeling the
scholar's neck for a pulse and his mouth for a breath. His blood ran
strong and his breath fast. "He's alive, and awake," she said more
calmly, but when she waved a hand in front of his wide eyes, and even
when she snapped her fingers, he didn't even blink. "Why isn't he
moving?"
   Kreemon snorted. "Stick a knife in someone's back, will he? Coward.
He is lucky I don't run him through now."


***********************************************************************

It is a cold, snowy night on this thirteenth day of Farinon, ninth
moon of Halkak, two hundred and thirty-seventh day of the one thousand
first year of the Zioth, in a small farming village on Osander River,
the Barony of Huerten, the Kingdom of Rang.

/--Next New/Full Moons--\      Upcoming Events
|            New   Full |  -----------------------
| Halkak:    10/1  9/14 |  10/16 First day of winter
| Tirop:     9/20  9/28 |
| Ot:        9/28 10/17 |  Market days occur on every 2nd and 6th day
| Ilsapeich: 10/8  11/6 |  of the week. The next one is on the 13th.
| Zabrigar:  12/8  10/4 |
\-----------------------/


Notes
-----
   The next turn is already under way, so I have little to say here,
except to wish Karl the best. Ardith and Kay were NPCs for the last
third of the turn, and I expect they will remain so until Karl is
ready to return.


Your Bill, Sir
--------------
Nothing.


Levels and Experience Totals
----------------------------
Ardith:   4 7300/13000
Johannes:   2425        (nice bit of role-playing there)
Kay:      3 4225/8000
Korisca:  2 2250/2500
Kreemon:  2 3775/4500   (nice bit of role-playing there)


***********************************************************************
* Game Name    Real Name           | Game Name    Real Name           *
***********************************************************************
* DM           Eli Fenton          | Ardith/Kay   Karl Schinke        *
* Korisca      Jesse Ableman       | Kreemon      Chris Dunn          *
* Johannes     Nathan Weismuller   | Sahlman      Mohammed Qureshi    *
* Ziedon       Alex Corbin         |                                  *
***********************************************************************
*           Email addresses are character_name at zioth.com           *
*             Zioth web page: http://www.zioth.com/zioth              *
***********************************************************************