Campaign1/session-14
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The Nature of Truth
Session Date: March 4,2000
Note: This is the 'enhanced' version of the session summary, which has some information in it that was not revealed while the game was in play. To help keep the extra content separate, it will appear in italics.
Assynt 25, 1022 continued
"Seoras." A familiar female voice entered Seoras' mind. It was Nymvayas. "I just learned from Istyll that you've been captured by a group of Royal mercenaries."
A chill ran up Seoras' back. The end is near he thought to himself. "Yes. They found Zorian's cloak and were using it to track him down. I offered to help, hoping to warn him off before they captured him."
"You have done well, and I am pleased with your course of action." Nymvayas soothed Seoras' frazzled mind. "We can use this situation to our advantage."
"How?!? One of them is a truthsayer! She will catch any lie or omission that I might try to give."
"Appear cooperative, and give them whatever minimal information they ask for." Seoras felt as if Nymvayas were sitting beside him, her arm around his shoulder, bolstering his courage. "When they let their guard down, the truthsayer will become lax about verifying your story, and we will play our game."
"How will I know what to say?"
"Don't worry. I will stay with you."
With the group's attention diverted to the examination of the wooden box found in the desk, Seoras took a moment to gather his wits about him, and dry his wet face.
Hope turned to Seoras. "So, are you willing to cooperate?"
Seoras nodded. "I will tell you what I can."
Hope nodded, certain that he was telling the truth. "Lets start with this." She held out the wooden box, which the others guessed may be a means of conveying letters. "Do you know what it is?"
"Not for certain. Your guess is probably correct though. Such enchantments do exist. The Royal Court has a few elven crafted items which allow them to communicate with distant cities. We don't know how to make them though, and the elves always keep a watchful eye on their use."
"Do you know anybody who can read these?" Telovien offered a few of the letters to Seoras.
"Choose your words carefully, my love." Nymvayas whispered.
Seoras examined the letters, formulating his response. "I'm not aware of anybody within the Mage Corps that has the ability to read them. The Demarian language is not derived from the same base as the human and elven languages, so it is difficult to master." Seoras looked over the letters again. "We don't have a lot of Demarians coming to court to offer their services as language instructors..." added dryly. Seoras handed the letters back to Telovien.
Telovien looked toward Hope. "Is he telling the truth?"
Hope paused for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I think so."
The group spent some time further examining the 13 or so letters, all but one written in the same hand. " Aethra may be able to read these when she stops by tonight." Telovien echoed Charlis' suggestion from a few minutes previous. "Though perhaps we don't want to show her all of them at once?" A brief discussion on the topic resolved that Aethra would be given two letters to translate at first, and then they would reconsider from there.
"Who is Aethra?" Nymvayas queried Seoras.
"I don't know. Do you want me to ask?"
After a brief pause. "No, we may learn more through passive observation."
Hope turned back to questioning Seoras. "Now, how did you get involved with this Nymvayas?"
"I already told you, we met in a tavern. She bought me a drink."
Telovien wasn't buying it. "How do you go from a drink to being a member of a cult?!?"
"It wasn't like that!" Seoras blurted. "We had some common interests. She introduced me to some people who were interested in magical research outside of the Mage Corps."
"So how did it work?" Telovien pushed.
"We had meetings. To get in, you need a pass, like those slips of paper you have." Seoras now appeared more relaxed, even perhaps a bit defensive.
Charlis, whose interest had wandered to an examination of the contents of the library shelves, turned away from his examination of an early copy of the Modern edition of "Magerfontein", which appeared to be a signed copy from some actor named "Seriah Kilpenny". "And what goes on at these meetings."
Seoras felt a wrenching in his mind, and he lost his train of thought for a moment. Nymvayas spoke softly, "You don't remember."
"I..." Seoras stumbled for a moment." I don't remember what happened."
Hope's gaze bore down on him. "Are you sure?"
Seoras nodded, looking quite befuddled. "Its strange, I can remember going, and being very excited when we were finished. But I can't remember what we actually DID."
Max rolled his eyes. "You have got to be kidding! I thought you were going to answer our questions!"
"I am trying!" Seoras blurted.
Hope held up her hand toward Max as he moved to strike Seoras. "He's telling the truth. It must be more of their mind-magic."
"So can anyone who has one of these get into these meetings?" Telovien held up one of the slips of paper with a strange sigil on it. "Are they matched to a person specifically, or a location?"
Seoras shook his head. "I don't know how the passes are distributed, or what they mean. I've always received my from Nymvayas. We never see each others passes."
Sergeant Black, who up until this point was content to allow the others to direct the questioning, stroked his chin and appeared deep in thought, then said "What about recruiting. How do you bring new people into their little group?"
Seoras shrugged. "I didn't do much in that department. Nymvayas asked me to look for other mages in the Corps that might be interested and could be trusted. I was told to show her who they were first, so she could check them out. If that worked out, then you brought them with you to the next meeting."
"Did you ever recruit anyone?" Hope's face contorted with anger and disgust.
Seoras shook his head.
"Now its time to play this situation to our advantage. Lets turn them against themselves." Nymvayas voice had a sinister twist in it.
"Did you have people you were considering recruiting?" Hope leaned closer, trying to present an intimidating facade.
"Feign to say no, then admit that you did."
"No, I...." Seoras looked sheepishly at Hope, then bowed his head. "Yes."
"Names. Now!" Hope was livid. Not only had he betrayed the Corps by associating with these conspirators, but he sought to poison the organization's ranks with other conversions!
Nymvayas gave him three names, of those who would have been useful to the She'ar-tyl, but were too loyal to be turned.
Seoras haltingly supplied the names of three mages, two who were struggling Tier 4 mages, and a promising Tier 3 mage. On further questioning, Seoras indicated that there were no others.
Dinner interrupts the line of questioning, and over the meal the group mulls the information that they have so far. After they have finished eating, there is a knock at the door, answered by Sergeant Black. The servant provided a note for Charlis. Charlis unfolded the note, then read it quietly for a moment.
"Its from Aethra. She writes that she is not interested in entering an elven garrison. If we wish to meet her, she will wait for us at the Maxwell Bath House for the next hour." Charlis re-folded the note, and placed it in his pocket.
The group decided to send Telovien and Charlis to meet Aethra, while the rest remain to continue questioning Seoras and keep an eye on him.
After changing from his dining clothes into something quite a bit darker, Charlis nods to Telovien and they depart to see Aethra, taking with them 2 of the letters, including the one letter written in a different hand from the others. Upon reaching the bathhouse,
They hear Aethra hissing to them from the shadows of an adjacent alley. She ushers them down the alley, and into a back entrance of the bathhouse.
"Quite a setup you have at Islay Manor." Aethra's attractive smile glistened in the dim glow of a small lamp sitting nearby. "I hope you don't meeting me someplace that isn't crawling with guards."
Charlis returned the smile and bowed slightly. "Not at all. Were you able to get the navigation stone?"
"No, but I was able to get this." Aethra produced a small covered clay pot. She pulled off the lid, and a strong aroma filled the room. "Its an ointment which my source suggests will work almost as well, though it does wear off after a while."
Telovien wrinkled his nose. "It smells like that powder that one Demarian was burning in that ritual in the underground chamber."
Charlis nodded. "That makes sense. If they don't all have navigation stones, they'll need some way to keep the Lyril away."
"I can let you have the pot for 100 pence. It was rather expensive and..." Aethra paused for a moment, perhaps considering the proper choice of words. "difficult to acquire."
Jingling his coin purse, Charlis paid her for the pot and squirreled it away one of the folds of his cloak. Aethra smiled again, clearly pleased that a lengthy negotiation was avoided. Sensing an opportunity to liberate more funds from Charlis and his half-elven friend, Aethra asked "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Well, we have some letters which we think were written in Demarian. Could you provide us with a translation?" Reaching inside his vest, Telovien produced the articles and handed them to Aethra.
"Time is money, gentleman. And my skill in such matters is rare to find elsewhere."
Charlis held up his hand. "How much."
"10 pence each for a verbal translation. More if you want it written out."
Charlis crossed her open palm with 20 pence. "Verbal will do for now."
Aethra provided a halting translation of the letter written with the unique handwriting, which can be summarized as:
-
"Your expedition passed through Mejis today. They seemed to be in good spirits and did not tarry long, pausing in the evening to rest at the Black Boar before continuing."
"It is signed by someone named Kanvorneer, and...." counting with her fingers (including a 6th finger which Telovien and Charlis could not see!), "the date converts to your calendar as the 25th of Decat I think."
"Could you see who it is addressed to?" Telovien looked at Charlis, to see if he saw Aethra's counting style. Charlis nodded back.
Holding the letter so that the dim light of the lamp shone through the parchment, a vague outline of further lettering appeared. "Someone named Aria Serenaht."
"Ok. What about the other one?"
The translation, a bit smoother this time, can be summarized as: (translation removed -- I can't figure out which one I gave out... so check back here AFTER the session for the text. --TT)
"Its also addressed to Aria Serenaht, from someone named Molokai." Aethra handed the letters back to Telovien. "Who are these people?"
"Its a bit much to get into right now. We may have some more translations for you to do later."
"I see." Aethra said coolly. "Well given that these are in Demarian and some of the things that I've heard about recently, I'd guess this has something to do with the She'ar-tyl cell here in Kalen. I am keen to learn as much as I can about their activities here."
"Why?" Charlis looked a bit surprised.
"The She'ar-tyl Cult are a threat, both to Hebridonia, and to my people." Aethra took the lamp off the shelf. "Knowing what they are up to is useful in limiting their effectiveness, wherever they spread their poison. So I'd appreciate any information you care to provide."
"We will catch up another time. We need to get back." Telovien reached for the door handle.
"Very well." Aethra opened the other doorway in the room, which by the heat and humidity, Charlis and Telovien surmised that it must lead closer to the steam room. "Be seeing you." Aethra snuffed out the lamp and disappeared into the inky blackness of the bathhouse.
Charlis and Telovien departed the rear of the building and emerged back on the street. "I'll meet you back at Islay Manor. I want to check on something."
Telovien reluctantly bid Charlis farewell, and returned to Islay manor.
While Charlis and Telovien were off talking to Aethra, and Sergeant Black was out on another errand, Hope and Max remained behind with Seoras. Though each had questions to ask of Seoras, their mutual disdain kept them quietly regarding each other, and making only minor inquiries.
"I'm going to step out for a moment." Hope stood and stretched her legs. "I'll be back."
As the door closed, Max came over and sat next to Seoras. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't just kill you now, while the others are gone."
"If you did, they would arrest you for murder." Seoras then thought for a moment, then curled his lip. "But by all means, please do. I'm dead anyway, and if I take you down with me. So be it."
Max sat for a moment and considered his options. Before he could decide, Hope returned. "Anything interesting happen?"
"Not really." Max returned to his previous seat by the fire, and poured himself another glass of ale.
"Nymvayas? Are you still there?" Seoras wondered in his mind.
"I'm still here, my love."
"How much longer do I have to endure this?" Seoras whimpered. He was drained, tired of the constant questions.
"It will be over soon. Just a few more minutes."
Telovien entered the room and explained what Aethra had translated. "Did we get anything more out of him?" Telovien pointed to Seoras.
Hope shook her head. "Not really. We were waiting for you and Charlis to return, along with Sergeant Black."
"Say good-bye to your playmates, Seoras. Soon you will be with me." Nymvayas left his mind, and a small empty place where she had been started to ache.
"You won't be getting anything more out of me." Seoras stiffened, looking almost defiant.
"Excuse me?" Max looked at Seoras with furious disbelief. Then he noticed the wisps of dark purple smoke appearing around Seoras, and without thinking, he drew his knife and leapt into the billowing cloud.
Telovien and Hope stood back, and hear a brief amount of scuffling from within the cloud, followed by silence. When the cloud dissipated, both Max and Seoras were gone!
Previously: The Hunted
Continued: Finale
Campaign 1 Index
