Sent: 10/28/98

Nigel, one of the Knights of Rinder, concludes his speech, asking "Are there any questions?"

Cyveiliog speaks up, asking "MiLord, have you yourself met this 'Mazen'? If have ye what be he? Animal as y've said?"

The Knight clears his throat. "No, good fellow. I have not had the pleasure of meeting Mazen," a smile creeps across his face at the idea, "and we know very little about him. All we know is that he is in charge down there and he's getting results. We don't like that. He represents a threat to the villages along the border and to all of Rinder."

A human with a staff rises and asks, "If we travel into Orcish lands will your Knights assist in providing us a safe passage? I've heard of Orcs before and they are big and nasty." There are a few muted chuckles from the crowd. "I don't think it's going to be fun wandering into their lands without assistance."

"I agree with you there," Nigel replies, "The Orcish lands are no place for a even a strong fighter without plenty of assistance. I cannot speak for all the Knights, of course, but I would expect that they would not look highly upon provoking the Orcs. We don't want to deal with a two-front war, if war comes at all. So you can surely travel there, but don't count on any official support from Rinder. Besides, it would be unwise to send too many of our men into Orcish lands. If Caerloon gets wind of that, they could seize the oppotunity to attack while our forces are depleted."

Next a man of rather flamboyant garb asks the Knight, in so many words, if he can supply the group with provisions, and with a 'last supper.' The Knight responds, "I can supply you with a week's rations, but none beyond that. And I'll have the innkeeper cook you up some grits before you leave this morning.

"If there are no other questions, I wish you good luck, and may the gods be with you." With that, Nigel gathers his things, speaks quietly to the innkeeper behind the bar, and leaves through the front door.

With the Knight gone, the innkeeper brings out a round of grits; some potatoes and other assorted vegitables, along with some chunks of beef thrown in. It is filling, and for most, it hits the spot. The group gathers around the table and one at a time, its members offer their introductions.

> *Cyveiliog turns to face the group. He is a modest-looking, 5'11'', blue

>eyed man in dark blue plate mail with roman-style nasal helm. He carries a

>steel shield with the device of the mercenary upon it. He carries broad

>sword, long bow, and arrows. He appears ready to walk upon the road from

>this very place.*

> "I am Cyveiliog [pronounced Keveloc] McKinely. This Knight has offered

>unto us the chance to bring order and earn money. I greet thee as brothers

>in arms and magic. Who is most fit here to lead in matters of the chase?"

> *He eyes down each member in turn, seeming to peer into their very soul*

> Crayne looks about remembering his manners,

>"Good day to you all! I be Crayne. I hope your all skilled enough

>to travel this journey for I believe it's not going to be an easy

>one!"

> Crayne stands about 6ft tall. He's human and wears a long warm coat,

>he is also dressed in a leather brown tunic and carries a sturdy backpack.

>You notice that he carries a staff which is quite distinctive. On the top

>the wood is skillfully carved into the shape of a shooting star.

> While their is a slight pause in the introductions, the young man

>steps forward. "My name is Guilliam but I am known as the Gale and while my

>body mightn't be strong my heart is tough as nails." Smiling to the group,

>he bows slightly and adds "It appears as if we are about to partake on a

>great journey. I forsee hardship for all, but none so more than me. For

>while we shall all share the physical pain and suffering, I am taxed with

>having to find proper rhymes for your names. From what you've given me so

>far, that shall be no easy task." Again, he smiles to all in the hope that

>the rest of the group will share in his attempt at humour.

> "I's Stormmmm..." [the Dwarf] says, his voice trailing off. His voice

>is very low and grainy, a little hard to understand. He is holding his dagger,

>a rather large one that is gleaming menacingly. He is fiddling with it

>slightly obsessively, mostly using it to apparently clean his fingernails.

>He is rather ugly, very scruffy. He medium lengthed dirty blond beard is

>unkept, along with his regular hair. His face is quite wrinkled and his

>mouth is noticeably toothless, those teeth still there crooked or rotting.

>He is dressed in a black tunic, and a black kilt, his extremely muscular

>legs ending in feet covered by dark shoes. He has a thick, black leather

>belt to which is strapped a holdster for a long sword, which is sheathed

>gracefully behind him on his left side, and an empty dagger sheath on his

>right-front side. "Just let me do my thing, and we'll be just fiiiine..."

>he finishes, his voice trailing off again.

> Edryd slowly stands, towering over the group at 6' 7", bright green eyes

>gazing squarely at the knight. He wears a polished shirt of chain mail,

>green breeks, hard leather boots and a surcoat of white with his the Temple

>Crest emblazoned on the breast in green. His chain coif is pulled back

>allowing his black hair to fall in a tight braid down to the small of his

>back. He is clean shaven and handsome, with a strong, angular jaw and

>acquiline nose. A bright long sword dangles from the belt that binds his

>surcoat about his waist. A polished shield with the same green crest leans

>against the chair from which he stood.

> Edryd turns to the group: "I would gladly travel with you all, though we

>may not always see eye to eye." He offers a friendly smile to Storm. "My

>intellect is not of the highest form, but I took my teaching well. My

>betters offered that I am wise beyond my years... perhaps that is true.

>My heart and mind have been tested in the fires of loss, and I have looked

>through my family's eyes into the kiln of death. In this I offer to lead

>this company in our journey, not as a better, but as a peer. I would that

>we would each depend upon one another, and, at least amongst ourselves,

>establish a bond of trust that will not fail us in the heat of battle." He

>looks at each one individually, then asks, "Will you have me?"

>

"I certainly will," the last member of the group says. "I recognize the insignia on your shield as one of the church. Though I don't know much about it, I do have faith in the gods, and as you carry one of their emblems, I have faith in you." Addressing the rest of the group, he continues: "Greetings all, my name is Canter Tarp. I look forward to joining you on what sounds like a difficult, rewarding, and" turning to Edryd, "noble adventure. I am a man of the sword, like some of you. I can hold my own in battle, as I suspect all of you can. We will certainly have one heck of a battle if this Mazen is really as strong as the Knight says he is. Personally, I look forward to the challenge, and would like to get going as soon as I clear my plate."

Canter is of average height, maybe six feet, maybe a little less. He wears a well-pollished suit of leather armor, nicer that the one which Guilliam took. He wears a mustache and gotee, closely trimmed, and unintimidating clothes.

With the meal well taken, the group begins the journey along the southward road. According to the Knight, the journey to the Caerloon border would take two days. Their pace is brisk, but by nightfall they are hungry and feel it's best to stay in the next town rather than risk travel through more dangerous lands at night, besides a good night's sleep sounds good to them.

Just after sunset, the party enters a town, Jilten. It is a very small town, along the road there are only three or four buildings. The town is surrounded by farms, where most of the townsfolk live. There is a blacksmith's shop (closed at night), a small shop selling spices from Caerloon, a large house, and the tavern.

The party approaches the tavern in search of a good meal. They quickly find a table and rest their wearly legs (some more weary than others), sitting down on the wooden stools. The barmaid comes over, and a round of ale is ordered by Canter. Everyone accepts, except Edryd, who very graciously declines. Dinner is ordered without event and the night approaches as a relaxed atmosphere seems to descend on the room. Guilliam even entertains the group with a few jokes, some funnier than others, but all humorous.

Toward the end of the night, a man, human with curly black hair, and wearing a sword on his belt, gets up from a table across the room and approaches the party. "Another round for my good friends," he calls to the barmaid, who responds with a smile and nod. "Gentlemen, allow me to speak with you kindly, as peaceful folk," he pulls up a stool as the barmaid arrives with the drinks. She places one in front of each man, except Storm, who takes his directly off her tray. The mug sits in front of Edryd untouched.

The man's voice grows quieter. "As secret as it may seem, you are not the only ones who know about the little mission." He lets this sink in. "I know through some sources what you have been asked to do. And I also know what you have been offered to do it. But I'm preapred to make you a counter-proposal," he smiles at the group. Some have finished their ale and are paying close attention, Edryd appears particularly skeptical. "Not only will I tell you what you should do, and offer you more to do it, but I will also tell you WHY you should do it, heh? Did your friendly Knight tell you why? Or did he say something like 'to protect the people of Rinder!' Huh? There are truths beyond what you have been told." There is silence from the group.

"Do you want to hear more?"

1. What do you do? What do you say? Are you interested in what he has to say and offer?

2. Please send your replies to the whole group ("reply to all" should do the trick on most email programs) in addition to myself.

Any other questions? Go ahead and ask....

Sent: 10/30/98

"There are truths beyond what you have been told. Do you want to hear more?"

For a moment there is silence around the table as this cryptic monologue comes to a finish. Then the party begins to react:

>Edryd stares hard at the man, glances at the presumptuous mug in front of him, then >back at the soldier.

>"Protecting the people of Rinder was still an honorable task, when last I looked..."

>He turns to Storm..."Would you say the only secrets at this table belong to our >'benefactor'? One he holds and claims is ours, and one he promises to spill upon

>this very table..."

>Edryd makes a point of pushing away his mug.

>"Well, stranger, even the condemned are allowed to tell their tale once."

>Before the man can begin, Edryd adds, "But it is my companions and I who will >determine what is truth. Tell on."

>Upon hearing Edryd's comment in his direction, Storm glares, narrowing his

>eyes slightly.

>When Edryd finishes his comment, Storm waits a second, still looking at

>Edryd, and eventually gives a grunt of agreeance. With that, he leans

>back in his chair, removes his dagger from his belt and again begeins

>fiddling with it, and puts his right foot upon the table, rather loudy.

>His head is cocked toward the new man at the table, although is eyes

>remain on Edryd.

>Crayne looks annoyed and a little taken back by this man,

>"I think firstly, that you should tell us how you know of our mission!!

>Also, you can tell us more about yourself cause I don't know about

>everybody else but I don't like clever little people who stick their noses

>in where it's not wanted."

>Crayne reddens a little, extremely annoyed by the fact that this man has just

>completely made him look like a fool, also he dosen't like the fact that he

>accused the knight of lying.

>Crayne sits back down and begins to chomp on a meaty bone awaiting this man's

>reply.

>Cyveiliog sits and listens to the conversations passed around. He does

>not seem to have much to offer although he listens intently. He drinks one

>flagon of Ale and eats well, but with the intense speed of someone who

>usually must do things quickly. After the meal, and during discussion, he

>will occasionally tap a catchy, rhythmic, marching tune with his fingers.

>"Where shall we begin? On the road?"

Canter sips his mug, places it on the table, and clears his throat. He doesn't say anything, clearly waiting to see what develops. He looks to Crayne and to Cyveiliog, and then back to the stranger.

>Guilliam interjects just before the stranger can speak. Looking to his

>companions, with the back of his head to the man with curly hair, he raises

>his eybrows and nods once slowly as he begins speaking. "Now, now friends.

>Do not judge this good man before we know what he has to say and offer us.

>He comes in peace and we should offer him more than rude remarks in return"

>Turning to look at the man, Guilliam continues "Like my friends, I want to

>do the right thing. But in this day and age, it is difficult to know what

>is truly right. Perhaps you can give us information that we should consider

>to help us make that decision. So speak up good man. I for one am more

>than interested in your proposal." Guilliam will lift the gift of beer up

>to his lips and take a sip while waiting for the information promised. He

>will listen intently and treat the man as if he is an important person whose

>words are of the upmost interest.

>Edryd's eyes narrow, and the corners of his mouth turn up in a slight

>smile. He inclines his head and leans back in his chair... "Very

>well...," he says. His attempt to hide his distaste is ill-disguised,

>(purposely so?) He turns his green eyes hard upon the stranger.

The stranger turns to Guilliam and with a sly smile says, "Thank you."

"I do think there needs to be a smoothing of the way between us, friends. So I am prepared to tell you something you don't already know. All is not as it seems in this land: We of Caerloon may not see everything, but we see enough to know. I have been sent here to find you with a task in mind:

"There is a secluded area, a compound, perhaps, in the Raimead Mountains. You've heard of these mountains, yes? They cut through Rinder, quartering off the north-western part of the kingdom. There are but a few ways through the mountains, and to attempt to pass through without taking one of these 'crossings' is inviting much danger upon yourselves. But that is not the point. Secluded in one of the mountains is this compound, run by the 'glorious' and 'noble' Knights of Rinder. There, we have learned, the Knights are somehow constructing a machine. We are not sure what sort of machine, exactly, but we've heard the rumor that it is some kind of flying machine. Perhaps magically powered--I don't know.

"This is all well and good, you say, and no reason for you to change your mission. But let me also tell you this: The mountains are barren, there is no food. For material, the Knights have used--perhaps enslaved--a tribe of Hobgoblins to do their mining. But the Knights also allow the Hobgoblins to descend from their cavernous dwellings and attack and plunder the (he places particular emphasis on this next word:) innocent villages below. They then plunder the farms and stores of wheat and other foods, carrying up the mountains to the Knights.

"You probably think this is outrageous, heh? That I am some sort of crazy. Maybe so, but maybe not. Here lies your task: Go to the Raimead Mountains and find this secluded compound. If it doesn't exist, fine, I am wrong and there is no more to say about it. But if it does exist, and the Knights are, indeed, condoning these Hobgoblin raids on the villages below, you are to stop them in the name of rightousness, in the name of Caerloon, and in the name of justice.

"While you are there, you are to determine whether or not the Knights are actually building this 'flying machine.' Steal their plans, destroy the machine, and return safely to Caerloon where you will be greeted as heroes! Imagine what horror the Knights could bring to the land if they can roam freely through the air! Any order cruel enough to allow such brutality under their very noses and look away must be stopped. They must be stopped.

"Now I understand some of you would do this just for the justice, but others demand a little more. I know you've been offered 75 gold pieces by the Knight for your 'silly mission.' I am prepared to offer each of you 125. As well as a life of luxury when you return to Caerloon.

"If you refuse my offer, you can go on your way, I will say nothing more about it. But allow me to warn you: They know you are coming, and you will not return to Rinder alive."

There is another moment of silence. The stranger, leaning over the table telling his story, looks around at each face, his eyes stop on Guilliam, though he addresses the whole group.

"What do you say?"

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