[Prologue]
As it was most nights, The Hare’s House Inn was alive with patrons. The bar was lined with rowdy men and women regaling each other with their tales of great deeds (though most of them dealt with mundane tasks such as finding a great sale at the store, building a chair, and many other “adventures” that kept them within the walls of Baybrook.). Tables were filled with parties either sharing a meal and drinks or playing a hand of cards or dice. Amongst everyone strode lovely barmaids and dapper servant boys taking and fulfilling orders.
The Hare's House Inn
In a back corner, four figures sat at a round table. Kristopher and Dalen the dwarf sat across from each other, their hands filled with cards. Nen the halfling and Tozhug the Urook filled the remaining seats on either side. On the table were more cards grouped into sets of various colors and pictures. At the adjoining table, the warrior woman Kelseen sat on her own.
“Do you have a tower?” Dalen asked, looking into Kris’ eyes.
Kris narrowed his own eyes, studying the dwarf. Slowly, he plucked a card from his hand and passed it to his opponent. Dalen took the card, thought a moment, then confidently pulled three cards from his hand and laid them on the table: a green sword, a blue circle, and the red tower he just received. Immediately, he turned to the Urook, awaiting a response.
The Urook looked at the card, gave a grunt, and shook his head up and down while Dalen smiled in victory and Nen chuckled in excitement. Kris just sighed.
“You guys are idiots,” Kelseen commented from the other table before taking a drink of her ale. “Why are you humoring them with that stupid game?”
“You don’t like “Urook Hunt?” Nen asked.
“The game is just “Hunt” with stupid rules because you couldn’t teach Tozhug how to play.”
Kelseen wasn’t wrong. Nen created the card game a couple of weeks ago after trying to teach the Urook how to play. (See the Epilogue to Kage Gordain) The simple game required you to make matches of four cards, either of a single symbol with different colors or vice versa. Tozhug, however, often tried to play the wrong number or combination of cards. When Nen attempted+ to correct him, Tozhug would get angry and insist the set was a valid play. Nen, being roughly a third of the size of the imposing giant, eventually gave in. Instead of being a spoil-sport, Nen created a game of it and was eager to teach it to his friends.
“Tozhug determines if your set of cards scores a point?” Kelseen continued. “For no rhyme or reason. Who would put their future in the hands of an Urook?”
The three stared back blankly, knowing that, as close friends and teammates, Kelseen has put her literal future in Tozhug’s capable hands many times.
“It’s the unknown . . . the anticipation that makes it exciting!” Nen tried to explain. “You need to try it!”
“Give me your swords,” Kris broke in, getting back to the game.
Dalen handed him two of his cards. Kris placed one in his hand and laid the other down with two additional cards that matched its green color: a square and a shield.
“Naog!” Tozhug barked, shoving the cards back to Kris agitated.
"Naog!"
“What do you mean ‘no’?” Kris yelled, jumping to his feet. “You let him play three. Are you bribing him, Dalen?”
Kelseen shook her head. “I told you. Stupid!”
Just then, a young man in a serving apron approached the table and handed a note to Dalen. The dwarf thanked him and waved him off before opening the note and reading.
“This game will have to wait. We being summoned . . . without delay.”
Kelseen finished the last of her mug and stood. “C’mon Tozhug. You and I will go first.” The Urook followed the amber-haired woman across the room where they paused momentarily before entering a door to the tavern’s storeroom. After a few minutes, Nen followed them.
“After you,” Dalen said to Kris when sufficient time had passed.
Kristopher got up from the table and, like the others, walked over to the door. As he did, he glanced side to side to see who might be watching. His concern wasn’t someone harboring nefarious plans, but one of prudence. The storeroom door was not in direct sight of the main sitting room and its usage would rarely raise any suspicion, but several individuals entering one after another might spark someone’s curiosity. Certain that no one was paying any attention, Kris grabbed the handle and nonchalantly walked through.
The room was nothing special as storerooms go. Shelves lined the walls. Crates formed piles here and there. Corners were used to house barrels of all kinds of spirits. None of this interested the ex-outlaw. He walked past the wares and turned a corner. Along the furthest wall was a tall shelf that housed old worn-out supplies, like half-used candles, stained clothes, bent silverware, and dented mugs. Kris approached the shelf and reached around the side. His fingers found a latch and the unit pivoted forward, revealing a dark passageway.
The dark-haired man entered, pulled the shelf behind him, and continued down the tunnel that led to the basement below the Dragon’s Hoard Thrift Shop, the secret meeting room of the group of adventurers known as Kage Gordain.
CYENANNORE:
A Kage Gordain Story
<This is a solo roleplay using the Tunnels & Trolls ruleset (primarily version 5, mixed with changes from later versions and homebrew additions. Basically, whatever works with my style and solo play.) This chapter is mainly narrative. Mechanics, along with notes and explanations of the gameplay, will begin in the next chapter.
This is a continuation of my previous campaign “Kage Gordain.” While not necessary, you may want to read that adventure here. >
[Scene 1]
The basement was dark, lit only by a few lanterns hanging from hooks around the room and a single candle sitting on a plain rectangular table located toward the front side of the room. The table was sparse with only a few pages of parchment. In the wall behind the table was an opening that led to a stairway up to the thrift store. To the right table, in the corner, stood a mirror. In front of it was a wire stand holding three orbs of different gemstones: a ruby, an emerald, and an amethyst. With the stones, a person could use the magic mirror to contact others attuned to it, but currently, it sat dark and untouched.
Behind the desk stood Garlan Notliegh, the owner of the Dragon’s Hoard and organizer of Kage Gordain. Garlen was a pudgy man with stringy black hair and a thin goatee. He was dressed in a mildly dirty shirt and rough pants, typical of what a working shop owner might wear.
Facing the table are a couple of rows of simple wooden chairs. In them sat most of the members of Kage Gordain: Dalen Dimflayer, Kelseen Havensorrow, Nen Goldmore, and Kristopher Miglward. At his usual place in the back of the room, near the tunnel entrance from the inn, stood the Urook Tozhug Maat. The only member missing from the group was Sylralei Lumnum.
“Welcome,” Garlan began. “Sorry to call you here so suddenly.”
Kris was a bit surprised that the meeting had begun without all members present. He took one more glance behind him to see if the attractive, platinum-haired elf had silently entered through the tunnel. He had only attended a few of these meetings, but, as the leader of the ground, Sylralei was always present.
Not seeing her, Kris turned back and scanned the room again. That’s when he noticed the group wasn’t alone. Hidden by the shadows in the corner to the left of the table was a hooded figure. This unknown person sat silently. Kris wondered if they might be a new member of the crew, but if so, why were they not seated with the rest and how come he had never heard of them?
Dark Hooded Figure
“Our next mission is a bit different in a couple of ways,” Garlan explained. “For starters, it is personal. Second, the client is here.”
The mysterious figure stood and stepped out into the light, drawing a slight gasp from Nen who had not seen them previously. They raised a hand and pulled back the grey hood to reveal their face.
The group stared questioningly into Sylralei’s eyes.
“Good evening,” she began, taking over the meeting. “I have decided to return home to Cyenannore. The journey can take more than two weeks and, while well it is mostly along well-used roads, circumstances can be unpredictable. For that reason, I am hiring Kage Gordain to accompany me. Those of you joining me will be Dalen, Nen, and Kristopher.
“We shall leave at first light the day after next. That gives everyone tomorrow to gather supplies and make final arrangements. This journey has no special missions or additional information you need to know. It is a straightforward escort mission.”
Kristopher knew little about Cyenannore. Like most people, all he really knew about the town was that it existed primarily to support the Academy of Magic, from which the town took its name. Technically, the Academy provided a full education, but magic was its selling point and almost no one attended Cyenannore unless they were training to be a magician.
“Wow! I’m finally going to see the Academy!” Nen perked up. “How long are we staying?”
“The rest you may return once we have arrived,” Syl told them. “The next day if you want. I will be staying. My plans are to assist my father with the school.”
“What do you mean will be staying?” Kelseen asked suspiciously. “I thought you were running away from your father?”
“Over the past few months, I have realized that the Academy is where I belong. It is the best way for me to develop and use my talents.”
“Galen! You are allowing this?” Dalen asked, searching for some reason.
“I know it’s sudden, but Syl and I have discussed this and, while I hate to see her go, it would be worse for me to insist she stay. She’s made up her mind and we all need to accept it.”
“Enough!” Syl called. “It’s getting late and we have preparations to make. Thank you, Galen. This meeting is adjourned.”
With her final words, the elf turned from the group and retreated back to the corner where she was joined by Galen.
The group was stunned. The team was full of questions but knew better than to ask Syl when she was as direct and determined as she was now. There would be time later, tomorrow or, most likely, during the journey. One by one, each person stood and left out the passageway in the rear of the room.
Everyone, except Kelseen. Once the others had left, she stood and walked over to Sylralei and Galen.
“Am I not skilled enough to protect you?” she asked, the question more challenge than curiosity.
“I’ve made my choice,” Sylralei responded.
“I’m perfectly capable. You just don’t want me with you!”
“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to leave Galen alone without someone to handle the jobs.”
“Any of us can do that. It’s me! Admit it.”
“Now ladies,” Galen interrupted. “I’m sure it’s nothing personal . . . “
“Galen!” Both Syl and Kel turned on their benefactor, but it was Syl who finished the thought. “You can leave.”
“But . . . “
“Go!”
Knowing that further debate would amount to nothing, Galen headed up the stairs to his shop. Once he was gone, Sylralei resumed the discussion.
“If you must know, Dalen is obviously positioned to become the team’s leader. It only makes sense that I use this journey to prepare him for this new role. Nen is young and eager to learn. I thought he might pick up some pointers from a trip to the Academy. He can’t afford, nor have the status, to attend, but he can certainly talk to some of the professors and students and accelerate his knowledge of magic.”
“And Kristopher?” Kel asked. “Why his sword over mine? Is it more than just protection? Does Ilmis have plans for the both of you?” This last comment was a reference to the Ilmis, the Lady of Light, God of Life. As a child, Kelseen was brought up to worship the deity, a belief she has held onto with great passion.
“Your superstitions mean nothing to me. Kris is new and needs the experience. That’s all!”
“So you say, but your anger tells another story.”
Sylralei glowered back, not saying a word. The two women stared at each other, unspeaking and unblinking. Eventually, Syl slumped her shoulders, let out a sigh, and turned away.
“What are you running from, Sly?” Kel asked. “You are . . . were confident and cocky. You don’t run. Except, of course, from your father . . . who surprisingly you want to return to now. You’re not making sense.”
“Confidence. Pshew” Sylralei expressed. “You were closer with cocky. Shemar is dead because of me. I nearly got us all killed on Crossbones Island. Who knows how many close calls or injuries people have sustained because I threw caution to the wind? I am a danger to this team, possibly to myself. If your god is real, maybe she’s telling me I’d be better behind the Academy’s large ivory doors where my actions affect no one.”
Kelseen took a moment to respond. “Do you really believe that?”
Sylralei didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to head up the stairs.
“Are you not even going say goodbye?”
Syl turned back to Kel. “You’re probably glad I’m going. You hate me.”
“You frustrate me. I question your morals. But I don’t hate you.” The warrior paused before continuing. “I . . . respect you. In fact, sometimes I consider you a friend . . . after Tozhug, of course.”
Syl let a brief smile escape her lips. “In that case, maybe it’s good I’m leaving. There’s no possibility I will kill you, too.”
With that, the elf wizard continued up the stairs, leaving Kelseen alone in the dimly lit cellar.
(Read the next chapter here.)
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Gen. 28:20-21 (What's this?)
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