The Keep:The Archons/Role Play

The Archons Role Play
The current storyline from the guild The Archons

(NOTE: this will be updated occasionally.  Feel free to update with current game play if the DM has not done so.)

Karn's Refuge
Setting: the world of Karn's Realm is mostly wildlands. The great plateau stretches from the palisades on the west to the Great Forest on the east. The Great Forest has no roads and few paths. Animals are the only things that venture into its leafy darkness. Well, the only things that venture in and live to return. The palisades to the west drop into a misty blankness, almost as if the gods grew tired of creating and just stopped. None know what lays below and few care. To the south are Knightshead Moutain and its foothills. There is a pass through the mountains, but it has been a lifetime since any traveled that way. To the north are the plains lands. Near to the mountains there are many valleys, small villages and farms line their sides. At the edge of the plains is the great city Karn's Refuge, named for the tower which stands in the center. There are legends surrounding the tower, sparked no doubt by the fact that it has no doors nor windows at its base. No staircase either. At the very top of the tower, an impossibly high distance, is one small window. Fanciful folk sometimes swear they see someone looking out from the tower, but they are generally laughed to scorn. North from Karn's Refuge are the farming communities. Although the best cheese are known to come from the valleys to the south, the north is were the "real" farmers live. Great grain fields, fruit orchards, and the massive production needed to sustain the city are all to the north.

Event: The Boar and Tower tavern is in the heart of the city. The area near the tower itself is a large courtyard, where merchants hawk their wares on market days and entertainments are performed on festival days. At the very edge of the courtyard is a row of fairly prosperous businesses, none more so than the Boar and Tower. Merchants and entertainers alike, pleased with their day's work, frequent the place, as do a wide variety of the town's inhabitants. The food is tasty there, and plentiful, and the owner a man who knows how to keep his own council. The common room is large enough to accommodate a large group, and there are several private rooms for more intimate purposes, whatever they may be. This day, close to the end of winter, two men are seen entering one of the private rooms. One is a prosperous merchant, with a storefront not far from the tavern. A regular customer, he usually dines in the common room. The second is a stranger, a man with a dark countenance, some would say. Dark is a good enough description. Dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes. But pale, almost white, skin. More than one patron noticed when Master Galdent forsook the common room for the private one. So there were plenty of eyes to see the stranger enter as well.

DM: MEmry

Players: Luke aka LOKIOFASGARD, The Cowled Man aka TheDiceOfLiars

Luke: A young boy who appears around 14 or 15, wearing a hood. Black hair, green eyes, pale skin, clearly brains over brawn. He tries to stay out of it, hanging to the corners, but of course curiosity gets the better of him, as it has so many times before. He moves to a table closer to the room the stranger entered and tries to look uninterested.

Cowled Man: Cowl draped down onto his shoulders a man in his thirties partakes in honey basted boar and field fresh green beans. At first, his bites seem rational for a civilized human being, but slowly his frequency of intake accelerates. The messy mat of dark brown locks flutters about as his head bobs towards the plate to hasten the process. The hungering man was tall, but his build overall stays masked from beneath his earthen brown concealment of a cover robe. The azure disks focus their sights on the prey before him, the left proudly brandishing two long, thin valleys from a prior conflict. While others gawked at the special guests this man continued to be enveloped in his exquisite meal

There are rooms at the Boar and Tower with thick doors and thicker walls. Their entrances are private, out of view of the common room. There any manner of business may be arranged and one may be certain private matters will remain matters. Unused to such subterfuges, the merchant had bespoken only a private dining room. It's door was not thick, nor tight-fitting. The benches that flanked the doors were well within earshot. Those at the nearby tables were not as privy to the conversation, but occasional words floated their way interspersed with quiet murmurs. ". . . . he knows? Impossible!" "Yes, I know, but . . . " "If you think it best." "It's hidden still, but I know where." A second voice, clear and soft, spoke the final word. "If you would make the arrangements?"

A few more murmurs and the door opened. The stranger walked out and glanced around the room. Eyes lighting on a boy eating dinner at a nearby table, the man flipped a coin to him. "Boy, do you know where the livery is? Tell the ostler Rathler needs his mount." The stranger strode out of the tavern and disappeared into the twilight outside.

Luke: Luke took the coin, testing it with his thumbnail, then wrapped up what food he could, placing it in his bag. He finished the rest and headed to the livery.

The publican, owner of the Boar and Tower, walked over to the cowled man near the fireplace. "So, you like my food," he said, gesturing at the near-polished plate in front of the man. "Can I get you anything else?"

Cowled Man: Two gentle sways up and down with his head presented the publican. "Yes, it's not often that the gamey taste and texture is worked out of such a beast. However, a different hunger has arisen as I had my meal. I'm searching for someone, and I wonder if those two men are associated with him." His right hand rises gently and is slightly disrobed from the long sleeves he wears, index finger extended towards the special room. "They're no ordinary men, certainly not. What can you tell a scorn-torn man on a mission such as myself about those individuals?"

The publican assessed the man. "Master Galdent is a respected merchant in this city. He sells fabrics on Badrin Street. He bespoke a private dining hall. That's all I can tell you, stranger." He gathered up the plates. "If you are finished with your meal, there are other establishments in the city with entertainments more to your taste, I am certain." He turned curtly away and was out of the common room before the stranger could speak. A subtle signal from him as he left assured none of the barmaids would wait on this table until the stranger was gone. Delev made his living keeping his patron's secrets. He was not about to indulge a stranger's curiosity.

Cowled Man: "Luckily for you, a name is a doorway into one's soul. Thank you, kind sir." A pleasant ray of happiness shined from his face as he smirked. He reached down and picked up the two parcels on the ground and went along his way. The simple traveler's sack dangled from his shoulders as it was hoisted, and the long, thin item wrapped in a dirty hued cloth was slipped between his back and the pack at an angle. "Oh, and for your guest's sake, might I suggest a less baiting location for such an esteemed guests' meeting? I'd certainly hate for your fine establishment to end up ablaze for inadvertently tossing a rather vicious mongrel an earshot morsel or spot of eye candy." A simple shrug was the last he bestowed before wandering out the door. His next move was being charted. Perhaps it was all for naught, but for his sake, for her sake, for their sake, he had to pursue any and all suspicions. At the very least, doing a good deed would be fulfilling as always.

At the livery, Luke delivered his message. The livery man grumbled and griped as he led out a bay stallion. This was no war horse. It was smaller, lighter, faster than any war horse had ever been. The ostler continued to grumble and gripe as he bridled and saddled the steed.

The Boar and Tower grew quiet somewhere around midnight. The private parlor had been paid until morning, so Delev left it be. Cleanup happened after the patron's time was up. It was a firm rule. He did his usual round, rousting any men too drunk to remember it was time to go home, turning them out. With luck they would find their way. The last drunkard had taken one of the tavern's few bedrooms upstairs. Delev barred the door and helped the man up the stairs before going to his own bed. There was no one to see when a slight figure slipped out of the private parlor and went upstairs.