PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 003

PBEM Orlantia: Steak and Brandy

Valin quickly made his way to the bar and sat down. He glanced around occasionally, taking in what he could of the bar's patrons when the barkeep came over toward him.

"Can I get something for you today, sir?" he asked while wiping the water stains off of another glass.

Valin stared at the man a moment, the thoughts of his dinner date causing his mind to wander. He then replied with a smile, "Yes, yes you could. I'd like a portion of your best steak and a glass of your sweetest brandy, if you please."

"Coming right up, sir." The barkeep turned to the back to call for the meat, and then poured the nearest bottle of brandy into a clean glass and sat it before Valin.

"Will you be needing anything else, then, sir?"

"Not for now, thank you." Valin took a drink of the brandy, savoring the sweet taste as it burned and warmed him from the inside. A moment later, the dwarf he'd followed into the bar approached and sat at the nearest end of the bar.

At first Valin sat and sipped his brandy, minding his own business, until he heard mention of Boccob and magic. *Interesting arsenal for a wizard,* he mentally commented to himself, as his steak was set down in front of him. He listened intently to the remainder of the dwarf's conversation with the barkeep as he slowly ate his steak.

When the topic of conversation between the dwarf and the barkeep turned to libraries, Valin became very curious about this strange dwarf. An interesting thought crossed his mind. *Hmmm, perhaps I should show him where Shereef's place is, just to learn a little more about him.*

The barkeep reached back behind the bar and gave a cord a sharp pull. A sweet sounding chime sang out. *I wonder what that bell is for.* The barkeep concluded his business with the dwarf, it seemed, and came over to Valin again.

"How much do I owe you for this delicious meal?" Valin asked immediately.

"The steak is four silver and the brandy is two. So that will be six silver, unless you would like some dessert." The statement hung like a question or even a suggestion from the barkeep's lips.

"No, thank you. The steak was enough, and I need to save room for later this evening. This should cover everything and leave some for you." Valin placed an electrum piece on the counter to cover his meal and the tip. He was still feeling rather generous and joyful from the earlier events of the day.

The barkeep took the electrum piece, then reached back behind the bar to pull the cord once again, causing the sweet sounding chime to sing out. *Ah, so that's it,* Valin thought. *He acknowledges tips with a chime. A sort of reminder of the sound of jingling coins in one's pockets.* He laughed to himself and walked over to approach the dwarf who still sat eating, and sat down beside him.

*Wynter always told me that I was a bit too curious,* he admonished himself before speaking to the dwarf, and then smiled at how his normal retort would irritate her. *But when hasn't my curiosity led to something good?*

"Excuse me, sir, but I couldn't help overhearing that you were looking for Shereef's place. I could show you to it, if you'd like."

- Frank (Valin)

PBEM Orlantia:

Afyanna sat perfectly still on the first seat on the longboat as it raced toward shore. She didn't know whether each boat's crew was as anxious as she to reach the shore, but they certainly rowed hard.

*I suppose I'd not want to wait in line to tie up either.* Afyanna enjoyed her time aboard the Exador, but she was definitely looking forward to a change of pace. *Twenty-two days,* she thought. *That is nothing compared to what my father must have done.*

Life aboard ship was one of constant routine. Wake up at first light, eat, bathe - if you could call it that - work, eat, work, and sleep. It was the work that kept the men's minds from dwelling on the long arduous days spent away from home. Afyanna was given nothing but the most mundane tasks to do and more often than not someone leapt to do them before she could even begin. Ironically, the lack of work that allowed her more freedom and comfort than the rest of the crew made her all the more cognizant of each and every day spent at sea. Her duty had been to get the cargo aboard the ship. Once accomplished, she became nothing more than a passenger.

The first three days were not very pleasant. Thank Corellon she didn't get physically sick, but there were times she wished she would. After the queasiness passed and she got her 'sea legs,' things were far better and she could actually take some time to enjoy herself. The days were bright and sunny, though still cold. The nights were so clear that the stars went from horizon to horizon. Some nights the moon was so bright she could read by its light. Afyanna would sit on deck at night and just marvel at the beauty of the night sky. Occasionally Corellon would wink back in the form of a shooting star that would bring a small smile to her face.

Still, with nothing to occupy her hands, the beauty and revelry that is the open ocean eventually gave way to monotony. And monotony led to longing for a change - and for a ship, that change was a port to anchor in. As for Afyanna, the longing was for information.

Afyanna woke up in the cabin she shared with the only other female aboard, Lieutenant Marta O'Nesh. Lt. O'Nesh was a hard woman, to be sure. Definitely the most unusual woman Afyanna had ever come into contact with, but she was affable enough behind closed doors. In public, the Lieutenant was as gruff and base as the rest of the crew, if not more so. The Lieutenant took great delight in showing up some of her male counterparts, and they took equal delight in the contests.

The last morning was different, though. There was a palpable buzz in the air. *Today is the day!* Footsteps on the overhead planking were hurried. The chattering of voices held the hint of excitement. She shook the sleep from her head and bounded up, as well.

Hours later, the ship lay at anchor in Tarren's protected harbor. The cargo was checked to note any loss that may have occurred, and the paperwork was completed. Lieutenant Robinson tucked the manifests into his coat and led the crew to the longboats. The boats floated idly by the Exador until each was full before any of them started toward shore. *Why aren't we leaving yet?* she wondered as they waited. Eventually though, they all did start toward shore - and fast!

Her 'month' aboard the Exador had gotten her used to the - normally - gentle rocking of the ship, but these longboats were different. Each movement caused the boat to lurch, so there she sat unmoving, like a rock. Others walked about the small boats without care, but not her!

The boats leapt toward the great city of Tarren. As they drew near, the harbor buildings seemed to grow bigger, people became visible, and the piers themselves finally appeared out of the jumble of shapes near shore. A small crowd was beginning to form near the pier where they seemed to be heading.

*No doubt they are as surprised to see us as I was in Liothele,* she mused.

From sheer habit of being in the militia, Afyanna's keen eyes overlooked the crowd. Villagers, guards, workmen, and merchants - all the sorts of random people one would expect - except . . . that man. Her eyes singled out one figure from the small mass and her unconscious survey became a conscious focus. She narrowed her eyes and peered at the man from across the narrowing stretch of icy water. He was sitting on a barrel and had a lean haggard face and had some sort of animal pelt drawn about him as if it were his only possession. And he was elvish. Yes, definitely elvish, but there was little more she could discern other than that he was also staring back at her just as hard as she was at him.

*No, not me,* she realized. *Us.*

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Well Met, Good Sir.

Tyrulf turned to look at the fellow that had just spoken to him. The man looked like he belonged in a more expensive setting. Not really by his clothes, but by the way he seemed to conduct himself. He looked Tyrulf over, and for just an extra second, stared at the large symbol of Boccob that adorned his clothes.

"Excuse me sir, but I couldn't help overhearing that you were looking for Shereef's place. I could show you to it, if you'd like."

Tyrulf noticed a symbol of religious significance on this man. Thinking to himself, he quickly realized that this was the symbol of Hermes.

"Well sir, that would be much appreciated. I was just about to have another cider. Perhaps I could buy you another brandy to repay your generous offer."

With that,Valin smiled slightly.

*Obviously he was paying more attention than I thought,* Tyrulf figured, as he sat down and introduced himself.

"Bartender, please get another brandy for this kind man and another cider for myself. Well sir, my name is Tyrulf Tellsomro. I must apologize for my ungainly appearance. I recently arrived in town and haven't had a chance to clean up." Tyrulf reached into his pocket at this time and put a gold piece on the bar.

"Bartender, take another silver for yourself. Not drinking the hard stuff never stopped me from tipping."

The bartender came over and scooped it up deftly, returning a moment later with the change and the drinks.

"I notice you carry the symbol of Hermes on your belt. I myself follow the way of Boccob. Too many people do not understand that magic is a part of everything and should not be feared. Are you from the Tarren Kingdom, or a fellow traveler like myself?"

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: A Game Of Wizards.

Mystir walked over to the plump hobbit and his mountain of a friend, and then introduced himself.

"Good afternoon," he opened. "My name is Mystir, and I couldn't help but overhearing your cryptic remark about being 'lucky' to have made it into town. If you don't mind my asking, exactly what did you mean?"

The hobbit cautiously looked at the apparent pilgrim for a brief moment, thinking to himself, then looked back at his burly friend. He then hopped off his stool and his friend handed him his drink while collecting his own. They made their way to Mystir's old table near the hearth. The mage was almost offended for being so ignored, but before the hobbit got to the table, he spoke.

"My name is Jeffrey Riversbend. This is my friend, Marcus Ultor Tarn," he said matter of factly over his shoulder while he pulled out a chair by the hearth. Marcus sat down too and drew a small package from his vest pocket, a black cloth covered object, and began to unwrap it. Curious, Mystir watched. Marcus had finally unfolded the cloth revealing a deck of cards, which he then began to shuffle.

"Do you play 'Wizards'?" Jeffrey asked.

Mystir wasn't sure what game that was, so he shook his head, though he wondered if he'd be a 'natural' at it since he was, in fact, a wizard.

"Ah, well. No matter. Sit down and we'll teach you the game while we talk and have a few drinks."

The offer seemed reasonable and friendly, so Mystir joined the duo, and soon he was being instructed in the intricacies of a card game called 'Wizards.'

It was a game of bidding and strategy wherein one proclaimed how many 'tricks' they would win of a limited, but growing number each hand, and points were kept. 10 points for each trick, plus 20 more for making your bid. Otherwise you lost 10 points for each trick you took above or below your actual bid. That was simple enough. It was all that business about left and right bowers, following suit or laying off, those four jesters, and yes, four wizards, that complicated the game. But it was fun, though Mystir wondered if they would ever answer his initial question. He did not wonder long.

"It was a story we heard. Just a rumor. But it could be true," ventured Marcus, the first time he had spoken other than to make a bid. "A passing merchant from Fecklar said the roads were not safe, and more than a few people have gone missing. I think they just died from exposure for going out of doors in this weather. Probably still buried in some snow bank or drift," he said, after he finished dealing and as he turned up a 9 of clubs indicating the trump suit for that round.

Jeffrey frowned, perhaps at his hand's lack of clubs, or perhaps at what his partner had said.

"That man sounded real scared, Mutt."

*Mutt? A nickname, no doubt,* thought Mystir.

"He wasn't making it up, and I seriously doubt that many people would just get lost only a few feet from home. I bid three," he finished, proclaiming he would win 3 of the 5 tricks the current hand had grown to.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The docks welcomed the longboats from the Exador, and friendly souls who had awaited their arrival caught the mooring lines as they were pitched to them. Soon the docks were teaming with visitors and locals, all anxious to hear the news of the lanes and learn what goods had arrived.

After a time, the captain - who had been speaking to some local official - came over to Cosher.

"Looks like things are pretty much set. This shipment was to have been sent out last autumn, but it got delayed, and then cut off by the winter, so it was already expected. There is no haggling. It's a done deal. We just got to unload it."

Cosher was thankful he wasn't expected to dicker on menial paper work and bookkeeping again. But then his heart sank.

"I guess you can go back to the Exador and keep an eye on things there."

In an illuminating moment, he made up his mind. The rotten year before, the mundane duties, and he wasn't making a decent living. He knew he could do far better, and it was way past time he tried.

"Ah . . . Um . . . ," he couldn't find the words at first. "Capt'n. Ah appreciate the time Ah've spent under yer command, and Ah thank ye for showing faith in me talents and givin' me these responsibilities, but Ah'm no sure this is fer me any longer. Me contract's up. Ah mean no disrespect, capt'n, and Ah won't leave you short handed the next few days if you need me, but if it's all the same to ye, Ah think it's time Ah take me leave."

Some of the other crewmen seemed surprised - not at someone leaving, but at hearing Cosh was probably going to be going. They liked Cosh, after all, but they understood. Even Gespar and Miniti might have joined him had they not had sweethearts waiting at home, and would soon be sailing the Exador homeward. Cosh had no such person waiting for his return. Family, sure, but they weren't expecting him. He was, as they say, adrift for a time.

The captain finally just smiled at the bardic dwarf. "Well, sir. I knew it was coming, sooner or later. Your talents exceed your station, sir." Cosh marveled a bit because the captain rarely called others, 'sir.'

"I'd offer you an officer's berth if it were in my powers to take on another, but alas, it's just not possible now. Perhaps, should we cross lanes again, you'll consider it?"

Cosher was flattered, and in truth he was considering it, so he replied, "Ah'll certainly do that, capt'n, if we cross lanes once more." Mind you, he didn't promise to take him up on the offer, but only to consider it, so it was a safe thing to say, and probably expected. Captain Fenmore smiled.

"Well, then it's off with you. I think the others can take care of these duties. But you better be taking this with you. It wouldn't do to leave without what you've earned these past few scepters," he said, as he undid his purse.

Four platinum pieces, nine gold pieces, and ten electrum pieces were counted out as he handed them to Cosher. Cosh had never had so much at one time, and still, lurking at the back of his head, was the certainty that even 50 GP was not a lot of money for worldly men. Sure, lots for a sailor, but not a lot for him. Not anymore.

"Thank you capt'n," he said, accepting his payment for months of work. He shook the man's hand like an equal, and then began to say his goodbyes to his mates.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Afyanna stepped off the longboat and onto the dock. Was this where her Lord had wanted her to be? Assuming it was, it must be something in Tarren she was to do, or, at least, something in Tarren would further direct her. What about that elf? He stood out. Was it obvious, this thing she needed to find? Only one way to find out . . .

- JimGM

PBEM Orlantia:

The six longboats raced towards the shore, creating a long wake through the still waters of the harbor. As the crowd moved nearer to the jetty to catch a glimpse of the boats, Sefarlain was able to get a clearer view of the crew. His keen eyes were able to discern the individuals, even at this distance from the shore. Most seemed standard sailor types - he knew what to expect from them after many weeks at sea. *Oaths and whiskey, no doubt,* Sefarlain thought, smiling to himself. The language he could handle, but the strong taste of the liquor they poured down their throats never quite appealed. Besides which, there had been no place for anything that could cloud clear decisions in the previous winter. He wouldn't have survived.

But one boat caught his attention and kept it as the boats approached. A man - an officer from the look of his demeanor - stood at the head of this longboat scanning the dockyard. Not very remarkable. But behind him sat a woman, bolt upright, seemingly very uncomfortable with her surroundings. And it was she that caught Sefarlain's attention.

A strong sense of something - was it recognition that crept over Sefarlain? He had never directly experienced the hand of Corellon, as others had. Sefarlain felt His influence, certainly, but that had been out in the forests of Tugath, and once on the shores near Peric. But something made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he would have sworn someone was guiding him. But in a dockyard? And so far from home?

*Not here, you fool. It's just the cold and hunger,* he admonished himself. But he murmured a quick prayer all the same.

The woman looked halfelven, but dressed in the Alderami fashion. Some of Sefarlain's island were a bit particular about 'half-bloods,' as others used to call them. But nature allowed such a joining, and Sefarlain had little time for people questioning nature's ways. Besides, Sefarlain could now see the image of Corellon hanging around her neck. A sign, if ever there was one.

Sitting behind her was her companion, if his frequent looks in her direction were to be interpreted. He appeared to be Dwarven - a sea dwarf, Sefarlain corrected himself. They too had been frequent company on the trip here. But Sef's attention was mainly directed towards the halfelf.

The longboat containing these strange companions was first to the docks, much to the mirth of the crew, who began jeering and shouting to the other crews. The halfelven woman was not distracted by this, however, and jumped from the boat. She had fixed Sefarlain's gaze with her own as the boat approached, as if she also knew something of importance. She worked her way through the crowd and stopped just short of Sefarlain's vantage point. He jumped down, and with a short bow, greeted the woman in Alderami for a few moments.

<Elvish>A long way from home, are we not?</Elvish> he commented, before realizing that the sea dwarf had finished his business at the dock and was standing by her side. "My apologies," Sefarlain bowed to the dwarf, assuming the dwarf would be unfamiliar with the language in this region.

"You must forgive my rudeness. But it has been a long time since I have been able to greet another in my mother tongue. It has been a long winter . . . "

He paused for a moment before looking directly at the woman, and indicated her image of Corellon around her neck. "I feel we may have some business to discuss. Might I speak with you both in private?"

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: A Wary Reply

Valin studied the dwarf a moment, considering carefully what to answer. He knew little about the followers of Boccob other than their propensity for magic, and was unsure as to whether or not to answer completely. He decided on a moderate approach.

"Thank you for the brandy, Tyrulf." Valin raised his glass in a small salute to the dwarf and took a sip of the brandy.

"My name is Valin Quenthal. I'm a traveler, like you, although I've been in the Tarren Kingdom since the fall as a liaison from Messenger's Temple in Alodar," he spoke nonchalantly in his response before immediately returning with a question. "Have you traveled far to get here as well?" Valin took another slow sip of his brandy.

- Frank (Valin)

PBEM Orlantia: Not As Far

Tyrulf noticed Valin's hesitation before he answered. Fortunately he was used to this, as most people were taken aback when they found out he followed the ways of Boccob.

*Perhaps one day more people will walk the same path,* he thought. Smiling, Tyrulf answered the man.

"Well, I'm not sure where Alodar is, but my guess would be that the road I traveled was far less distant than yours. I traveled from BlithenOre initially, but got stuck in the Dominion by this freakish winter. I worked in the mines until the end of the season and took on the job to guard the ore shipment. Not that anyone would be stupid enough to come out in this weather for ore. Have you met this Shereef fellow? I was just wondering what he was like," fidgeting a little as he said the last two sentences. Tyrulf looked up at Valin hopefully.

*This Shereef probably doesn't know anything, anyway,* Tyrulf thought, getting ready for yet another disappointment.

"Perhaps he knows someone in the castle and may be able to get me into the King's library. Of coarse, maybe the king himself will invite me. I'm sure he invites scruffy looking dwarves all the time to peruse his vast library." A bit of sarcasm crept into Tyrulf's voice, but more humor than bitterness - OK, maybe a little bitterness.

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia:

Afyanna made her way to the seated elf. As she approached, he slid down to stand before her.

<Elvish>A long way from home, are we not?</Elvish> he commented.

Afyanna bowed her head respectfully at hearing the Elven Language spoken.

<Elvish>I am indeed, as it appears you are as well.</Elvish> As the wind whipped around the small building, his ratty pelt flapped and she caught a smell that even the ship's sleeping quarters couldn't better. She winced despite her best intentions.

<Elvish>However, you seem to have come upon hard times of late.</Elvish>

He nodded, seemingly more embarrassed than anything, and then looked to Cosher as if just noticing him.

"My apologies," he said. "You must forgive my rudeness. But it has been a long time since I have been able to greet another in my mother tongue. It has been a long winter . . . " He paused and then looked Afyanna in the eye and said, "I feel we may have some business to discuss. Might I speak with you both in private?"

Where such a forward statement would normally take her aback, Afyanna was certain that this half-starved elf held some connection with her quest. She just knew it. She weighed the situation carefully in her mind.

*I have been drawn to this place, and to this man. I must know why!*

"I too feel that there is much we should discuss."

*What is it?* Afyanna wondered. She indicated the sea dwarf beside her.

"Shall the three of us find an inn or tavern to get a hot meal? I know I can use a change of pace after being aboard ship for so long." She softened her tone a bit and added, "You do seem more in need of a meal than either of us." The man's gaunt features and the way his gaze seemed to go far away when she mentioned food told her plenty. He may be hungry, but by his manners he was no beggar.

"My name is Afyanna ea'Theys d'Enthril-Rynne," she said, using her full family name. She rarely used her full name except in the company of elves. Growing up in human-inhabited areas had shown her that humans find elven names unwieldy, so she adopted a shorter name while amongst them. Smiling at Cosher's bewildered expression, Afy said, "But please feel free to call me Afyanna d'Enthril." She turned and introduced Cosher. "This is Willie-John McLean . . ."

"Cosher, please," the sea dwarf added.

Afyanna smiled and rubbed the chill from her hands. "Shall we find that inn? A warm fire and fresh meal is sounding better and better."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: But For The Fallen Bough.

Quite frankly, Cosher hadn't expected this, but he was delighted. Instead of being at loose ends, he fell into it - fell into another . . . 'arrangement.' Sometimes, the ballads sang, the most auspicious beginnings came about that way. Who was he to complain or question the whim of the gods? At least for now, he decided to go along with the lady Afyanna and the rather fetid clad elf she decided must join her.

Having said his goodbyes, and after Afyanna delivered her paper work, and with Sef's stomach making his immediate decisions, the unlikely trio walked away from the cold wind swept harbor's docks. Keeping eyes pealed and noses in the wind, they went up the street looking for a tavern. They had walked for some time before coming across one, though the fates had other plans for them.

A small group of men were rigging some ropes and pulleys around the trunk of a tree. Not a standing tree, mind you, for it had apparently fallen during the night's gale and had smashed clean through a section of the roof and half the wall before coming to a halt amid the clutter born of its journey. And on the front of the building there swung a sign, 'Sailors Shots.' Obviously, the place would be closed.

"Excuse me, fair men, but we had hoped to find a tavern, and . . . well . . . , yours seems to be closed. Would you mind terribly directing us to another? We've come a long way, and . . ." Afyanna was cut off by one of the men who had been watching the others work.

"Yeah, it's a crying shame what happened. Somebody up there doesn't like them or something. But you can find a nice place down a few blocks that way," he nodded in a southerly direction. "Or maybe 12 blocks that way," he continued with a more northern nod.

"Or if you want a hot bath and a room and not just a drink and a meal," he made his third offering while looking at the elf, "there's an even better place about 6 or 7 miles west of here, and where I just happen to be going myself. One of the finest taverns around these parts, too. I've already spent enough time dawdling here this morning," he said as he walked across the street to a waiting coach hitched up to a fine looking matched pair of chestnut brown horses.

"My name's Derrick, by the way. Derrick the driver. I know most places in this city, if I do say so myself. And if you're new to the city, I can take you where you want to go if you just describe what you're looking for. Tell you what. Since I'm going anyway, I make you a special rate if you want to come along. Half fare - you can't beat that. I'll take you on over to the Keg for a mere pittance, say . . . one electrum for the lot of you?" he asked hopefully.

Afyanna looked at the coach, big and black with a few tarnished silver fittings, but it looked able to hold maybe six passengers in comfort, and they would be out of the wind.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jasper liked most patrons when they ignored him. His hearing was so good, he could be half the length of the bar away and still pick up things of interest.

*Ohh, he didn't bring in copper . . . he brought in iron ore from the Dominion,* he surmised, not that such reasoning would make history. But Jasper liked to know what was what.

The second waitress finally showed - along with her boy friend who sometimes worked there too - so Jasper was able to relax a bit more and pay closer attention to things that were not his business. It wasn't what most would think if they guessed he was eavesdropping, however. He didn't want a piece of the action. He wanted to avoid it, more often than not, and the best way to do that was by knowing where it would be so he could arrange to conveniently be elsewhere.

Still, he frequently had to go up and down the length of the bar, so when he was in close proximity to some comment, he occasionally volunteered a bit of information to his patrons.

*What? He doesn't know where Alodar is?* he mentally gasped. He thought everyone knew where Alodar was, or at least heard of it.

"You don't know Alodar?" he perhaps stupidly asked. Fishing behind the bar where he kept the coins, he pulled the very coin that dwarf had given him just moments before.

"I guess stranger things have happened, and you can't tell where it is from this, but sir, here's a image of it on the very coin you gave me," he said, showing Tyrulf the front of the gold piece.

*Oh crap . . .* thought Jasper, *Now you've gone and done it,* he figured, never knowing why he didn't just keep his big mouth shut or why that thought only occurred to him scant seconds after he always opened it.

- JimGM

PBEM Orlantia: Two Tricks?

Upon the proclamation of 'Three tricks,' Mystir studied his cards. *I have no idea what I am doing here, but they did supply me with some information, so I'll amuse them for a hand or two.* Slowly he rearranged his cards. One, twice, three times.

After a moment the young wizard realized the duo were waiting on him. "Um, two tricks?" he half asked not really expecting an answer. After he rearranged his cards again, he realized that two cards had been placed on the table. Obviously it was his turn. Without even thinking he chose a card and placed it upon the table.

As soon as the card was visible to all something else in the room caught his attention. The name of his deity was proclaimed. *Odd,* he thought to himself, *there are few who follow the ways of Boccob, and very few of those travel.*

Again he realized there were two cards lying on the table, and again he placed a random one.

After letting a moment pass, Mystir turned his head to the bar and noticed the two speaking together. *It was the Dwarf!* he exclaimed to himself. *I must be blind, he walked right up me and I didn't notice his clothing.*

Another round, another random card.

Mystir paid attention to their conversation. *Heading to the libraries,* he wondered.

Two cards to his one.

*I wonder if they would mind my company. I haven't been able to spend much time in the libraries, and they did mention the King's . . .* His thought trailed off.

Upon laying his final card he spoke to the pair, "I apologize for my halfhearted play. The game of cards does not appeal to me. However, I do thank you for your trouble." Mystir rose and walked over to the halfling and reached under his chair. "My pack," he proclaimed.

After he retrieved his belongings, Mystir moved to the bar once more, this time interested in the Dwarf he just moments ago dismissed. He waited for a pause in their conversation and then spoke.

"Excuse me, good sir." He paused just a moment to ensure he had the dwarf's attention. "I could not help but overhear you are ALSO a follower of Boccob." Again he paused, and noticed the proud and satisfied look upon him. "I was wondering if I might accompany you for some time so that we may speak more of His splendor."

Mystir waited for a response, hoping for a favorable one. It had been too long since he could hold an adequate conversation with anyone and the thought of the King's Library DID appeal to him.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia:

Sefarlain kept his thoughts to himself while the group walked towards the coach. He had said little after their original meeting, partly not being used to company yet, partly trying to weigh up his new companions. His training he had received through the years had always stressed the importance of teamwork and trust, but that trust had always been earned before. Yet here he was, going off with two complete strangers to an inn, both well armed and equipped, by the look of things.

But he couldn't deny the strange impulse he had felt at the dock. He had been certain that this meeting had been . . . guided somehow.

*Well,* he thought, *these things will reveal themselves in time with Corellon's blessing. And besides, a little company for a time would be very welcome.*

The group climbed aboard and began to make somewhat bumpy progress towards their destination. Now in close proximity to each other, Sefarlain could get a good look at his fellow travelers and made some more informal introductions.

"Unusual circumstances have brought us together, I think," he said, "but I think I should really introduce myself properly first." The ranger smiled somewhat awkwardly at the realization that the atmosphere inside the coach owed more towards the pelt than any small talk. "I am Sefarlain Anluvior from Tugath in The Alderami Islands," he offered. "But please, Sefarlain will suffice!" noting the halfelven lady's impressive moniker.

"I am in this region purely by chance, I thought. The winter here has been a hard one, and perhaps I owe more than the provision of some clothing to this bear," he said, indicating his pelt. "Though you may not feel quite so kindly towards him, I'm sure, judging by his smell."

The sea dwarf snorted in agreement.

"I have been traveling for over a year heading east," Sefarlain added, "but the ferocity of the past few months has caught me by surprise." He stopped for a moment, considering his words.

"That doesn't happen very often. Perhaps I have more to learn. But that is why I am traveling. May I ask what brought you here? Somehow I think this has been no mere accident."

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Twice Boccobed

Valin raised his glass in small greeting to the halfelven stranger. "Well met, sir."

*Another follower of Boccob. What have I gotten myself into?* Valin began to question the wisdom of following another of his curiosities as the new stranger joined them, and then mentally sighed, *Oh well, let's see where this goes . . .*

Valin turned to Tyrulf and decided to take a chance. "Tyrulf, I'm curious as to what knowledge you seek at Shereef's library. Perhaps I could be of assistance in this as well, especially if what you seek might not be found there. Please forgive me if this is too forward, as I don't mean to intrude on your privacy."

- Frank (Valin)

PBEM Orlantia: Coins and Gods

Tyrulf looked up at the bartender and frowned. *Seems like the bar has a curious ear.*

After he took the coin back and looked at it, he replied, "Well, I have heard of Alodar, I meant only that I am not sure where it is exactly. I didn't realize that this was a picture of it on the coin either. Thank you for informing me."

After the coin was returned, the bartender wandered off and Tyrulf turned back to his new acquaintance. "I must admit that I do not know much about Hermes, but I would be very interested in learning more about him."

At this point the skittish halfelf walked up and addressed Tyrulf.

"Excuse me, good sir." He seamed to hesitate for a moment to collect his thoughts. "I could not help but overhear you are ALSO a follower of Boccob."

At this Tyrulf thought to himself, *The skittish halfelf?* breathing in and straitening his posture, trying to look a little less the well-armed beggar. *A follower of Boccob?* Tyrulf realized that this probably would have been more apparent, had he taken the time to pay attention to the man before. No visible weapons other than a staff of sorts, and no armor to be seen. *Perhaps he is even a mage.*

The newcomer continued, "I was wondering if I might accompany you for some time so that we may speak more of His splendor."

Tyrulf put out his hand. "Well met, sir. My name is Tyrulf Tellsomro, and my new acquaintance here is Valin Quenthal. I must apologize about my appearance. The road was cold and my mind was focused more on a warm meal and drink than my weather worn looks. I have seen only one other that follows Boccob's way in my short travels, although I hope my words have increased this number. Your company would be welcome. Unless I miss my guess you practice the arcane ways more than just in holding Boccob in high regard." After shaking his hand, Tyrulf motioned both for the newcomer to sit and for the bartender's return.

"Good sir, please set up my as yet unnamed friend with a drink, and bring another brandy and cider as well please." Turning back to the newcomer, he said, "We were just speaking of going to meet a man named Shereef. It is said that he is a sage of sorts. Have you heard of him?"

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: A Personal Matter

Tyrulf became more serious and looked at this man hard. *Valin Quenthal, what do you want of me?* he questioned himself. Tyrulf had traveled asking many who he had met about his tattoo. This man just walked into his life for no reason other than curiosity. On the other hand, Tyrulf really had nothing to lose.*Perhaps Boccob has sent him to help me in my journey.*

"Well, I am always seeking knowledge about a variety of things. Arcane lore is always on my agenda as well as various religions and other interests." Tyrulf's face becomes somber, his voice low and his eyes became unfocused as if looking far away. "I am a tree without roots. My past eludes me like a master thief in the night. Only one clue this thief leaves for me. One tiny fragment that gives me hope. This tattoo."

At this point, Tyrulf pulled his shirt from his shoulder showing the two men a strange tattoo that could be a warhammer or pick. "I'm not even sure what it is supposed be. My past haunts me sometimes and drives me to find its origin, as it would anyone whose past was lost to them. One man said that it looks as if the work was done in the Archipelago, but I could not find him again to glean more."

Putting his shirt back on properly, Tyrulf looked up at both of the men. "I have tried every town and asked many people, and no other information have I gleaned. I hope one day to travel to the Archipelago, but while trying to raise funds I plan on seeking information from libraries and sages whenever possible. The bartender was the one who mentioned this Shereef fellow. That is how I came to know his name."

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: Libraries

Valin noted the change in Tyrulf's voice as he described the tattoo and his elusive past, and felt somewhat ashamed at hiding part of his own. This man just laid bare his soul. There was something he liked about the dwarf's directness. An unbidden thought came to him, partly from guilt, partly from a desire to help this new acquaintance. *Perhaps I can aid him should his research at Shereef's prove useless.*

"Unfortunately, I do not recognize your tattoo. I wish that I did. However, when we are done with our drinks here, let's head directly to Shereef's. I'll aid you there as best I can in finding information about it. If we cannot find the information you seek there, then perhaps . . ." Valin paused considering carefully what he was about to say. "Perhaps at the very least, I could research the tattoo for you in the King's Library. I'm fairly certain they would let me use it."

To stave off the question that he knew was coming, Valin added, "I'm here in the Tarren Kingdom at the behest of the Queen, attending to Hermes' chapel in the castle. I should hopefully be allowed access to the King's Library through her good grace."

- Frank (Valin)

PBEM Orlantia: Please to make your acquaintance!

Cosher was positively brimming with enthusiasm - not only was he finally on the way to a tavern to be fed and watered, but now this curious elven stranger was actually asking him for a story!

*Why it's his lucky day, to be sure!* thought Cosher as he removed Sliobhann, his saber, from its harness at his back and placed it on the bench next to him. Not failing to notice that both he and Afyanna were seated together on the bench opposite this stranger, Cosher smiled ruefully. *Mind you, it's no so lucky for us! Ah'm no so sure if Ah can last all the way to this 'Keg' without losing me breakfast! This elf certainly needs a bath.*

"Well, Sefarlain," began Cosher, "as the lady here so politely introduced me, ma name is William-John McLean, or in me own language - Fiadharainn that is - Feilhinn Shaon MacLeonnadh. But since we're all apologizing for the length of our names, you can call me Cosher - but as to why, well that's a story for another time, or pitcher o' ale for that matter."

Cosher laughed, but deep down the thought of his next mouthful of ale was a very serious matter. *Ah'm more than a wee bit concerned that Ah'm heading to a tavern with only an elf and a halfelf lady for company. Ah'm no so sure that the ale will be flowing too freely with this lot! Well, to be fair it does look like Ah might get some answers to this whole affair with that there shining light - these two do seem to know a thing or two. And besides, this is just the beginning o' a new chapter for Willie-John McLean - adventure and a break from the life o' a sailor is what Ah wanted, and that's what Ah'm heading for. Well, these things have got to start somewhere!*

"So that's me name," continued Cosher, "Ah'm a Fiadharainn from a wee fishing village called Bal-Linaghmore in Dunadh-Drihn. Ye may no have heard o' it. Been a sailor all me life, but entertaining's me real talent. Ah can spin many a yarn, and before we reach this 'Keg' place ye may even hear one o' me many songs. D'ye fancy that? Aye, thought so."

"Sorry Ah'm digressing, aren't Ah?"

Both Afyanna and Sefarlain glanced at each other. Afyanna shot the elf a look which could only mean 'You don't know the half of it; you haven't been on a sea journey with this guy!'

"It all began on the Exador, our ship," the sea dwarf continued uninhibited, "caught in a heavy fog, battered by icebergs - there didnae seem much hope for us. But then this mysterious light appears out o' nowhere and guides us to shore - well that's how we ended up in Afyanna's hometown. Ah know it all sounds very odd, but Afyanna will fill you in a wee bit more on her interpretations o' the light - it seems there's some sort o' link to her god. And to cut a long story short, we repaired the Exador, Afyanna's people gave us a new cargo, and Afyanna came along on the journey, and after three weeks we arrived here in Tarren as ye witnessed. So Ah guess, we weren't brought here by accident, no."

Cosher leaned back, the trademark huge grin breaking across his bearded face. He seemed very pleased with himself - probably from the fact that he was able to say his piece in such a short fashion.

He smoothed the tartan cloth of his ogha, and turning to Afyanna, he spoke in fluent Elvish.

<Elvish>No need to apologize for speaking in your mother tongue, my elvish friends - I can more than understand you. You see, linguistics has always been a talent of mine. And what with all the traveling I've been doing, well, you get the picture. Over to you Afyanna . . .</Elvish>

- Johnny (Cosher)

PBEM Orlantia: Sages, Libraries and Tattoos

"Shereef you say?" Mystir began. "Unfortunately I have been trapped in this frozen land for quite some time. But before I continue . . ." he paused for just a moment, "my name is Mystir. As far as the sage goes, I have heard a touch of him. However, I have not had the pleasure of meeting him."

Mystir stopped at that, not wishing to divulge much information about himself at the present time. He watched as the dwarf removed a portion of his clothing, showing a very distinct marking, although of unknown meaning to the halfelf.

The wizard leaned against the bar, listening to the conversation continue between the two.

*So this one may have access to the King's Library. I've tried a few times to get into that place,* Mystir thought to himself. *It might do good to stick with these two until I can safely travel.*

Again the halfelf waited for a break in the conversation to enter. "Have you attempted to use magical means in deciphering the symbol?" he asked. "There are a few means that may help in the matter." He continued, "And if He permits, may bring light to your, as you said, 'roots.'"

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: A Lovely Tavern

Afyanna listened to Cosher relate the tale of the Exador to Sefarlain. When he finished, the three of them chatted for a minute or two until she realized that she couldn't bear to wait until the coach arrived at the inn. She began to tell Sefarlain the story of the vision she had during the night - the same night the Exador's crew saw the strange light in the sky. Afyanna spelled out what the voice had told her and how she had no idea what Wrath was. She also explained that the next morning, at least one part of the vision's portents came to pass - the arrival of the 'fortunate Exador.'

"Since then," Afyanna continued, "as Cosher said, I have tagged along with the ship in the hopes of finding out about this 'Wrath' or the calamity. So far I haven't found a single bit of information." She paused a moment, unsure of whether to volunteer the next bit. She looked directly at Sefarlain, "But when I saw you sitting at the docks, something clicked in my mind and told me that you are somehow connected to all this."

Moments later the carriage rolled to a stop outside The Copper Keg. Disembarking from the door opened by Derrick, Afyanna found that she couldn't help but take a deeper breath. Chilled though her lungs became, it was better than being confined with a bear pelt. As the other passengers also got out of the carriage, Afyanna fished into her coin purse and withdrew a gold piece. "I'm afraid I'll need change," she told Derrick. The driver quickly made the appropriate change then returned to his perch atop the couch and drove off.

The Copper Keg was a large well-maintained inn situated across from a frozen lake and the intersection of two streets that normally could accommodate considerable traffic. The two streets were very wide and had seen years of constant use. If location was the key to a successful business, The Copper Keg had it in spades. Even in the bitter winter, the few wagons, horses, and people out there were more than Afyanna had seen along the rest of the journey, save the docks themselves when the ship came in.

The inn itself was quite beautiful. It was brick for half of the first floor, then wood and plaster for the rest and up through the second and third floors. Several small chimneys poked up throughout the slanted slate roof and one larger chimney was near the east end. The latter would be for the dining room on the main floor, the former for the pricier rooms with private fireplaces. Clear glass windows were spaced throughout the first two floors. Smaller, round windows were centered in each of the gables along the slanted third floor. That floor would normally be reserved for the lowest paying folks and would have the fewest amenities. The fact that it even had windows, albeit small ones, spoke volumes of the quality of The Copper Keg.

Afyanna hurried up the steps after her traveling partners and up onto the wooden planking to the door. The warm rush of air that greeted her when Cosher entered was laden with the scent of smoke, wine, beef, pork, and all the other kinds of food her mind could imagine all rolled into one. Afyanna's mouth was positively flowing with saliva and her stomach gave a hearty growl at the thought of an inn-cooked meal. The food on the Exador was for sustenance. An inn gave you all the joys of a heavy, stick-to-your-ribs meal.

The trio entered the smoke-filled main room and surveyed the seating opportunities available to them. The main room opened to the right with a long bar flanked by entrances to the kitchen on the left. In the middle of the main room was a large round fireplace suitable for heating much of the room and the floors above. Heavy beams spanned the ceiling for the weight of the floors above. Patrons' coats hung from pegs on the thick columns supporting the beams. They made their way across to a table near the corner. It was not so near the hearth as to be overly hot, but it was a far cry from the chill outside. Afyanna sat nearest the wall, with a good view of the entrance across the room from her, and the stairway to her right. It had been her way for so long, she no longer realized she chose her seating like that.

After a few moments a waitress arrived to take their orders. Afyanna ordered a thick mutton stew with an extra helping of potatoes and carrots and a side of bread. To drink, she ordered a large tankard of warm cider. The three made small talk for several minutes until their meals arrived. Afyanna dove into her meal as if she were as starved as Sefarlain seemed to be. After wolfing down the first part, she slowed a bit and tried to reign in her military eating habits. With her stomach at least partially under control, she returned her attention to the business at hand.

"Sefarlain, you mentioned you've been traveling over a year - to the east?" Afyanna scooped another spoonful of stew into her mouth and continued around her food. "Might I ask what it is you seek?" Before he could answer she also added, "And I must say, from the expression you gave me at the docks this morning, I gather you and I had the same feelings of . . . divine will?"

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Quite A Staff

Jeffrey frowned at Mystir when the mage excused himself. Obviously the little man was not pleased the wizard was leaving mid-game, but since they weren't playing for money he let the matter pass. "Guess we'll play cribbage instead. Copper a point?" he asked Mutt, hopefully, a mirth filled gleam in his eye.

Mutt laughed, "You don't pay me so much I can afford to just give you money," he said, apparently convinced he'd lose to the tiny hobbit. Their conversation then faded into the background as Mystir looked into other matters.

Mystir briefly considered going upstairs to his room - a third floor closet, he called it. It was 'affordable,' at least, mostly since it was barely wide enough or deep enough to hold more than the bed, but he decided it could wait. He wanted to talk to that 'frightening' dwarf first, and didn't need his spellbook just then, though he constantly reassured himself the room was locked and his gear was safe by fingering the key in his pocket.

----------------------------------------

Jasper kept his ears opened for gossip, despite the fact more people were coming in than he expected for such a cold morning, and business really demanded closer attention. Perhaps it was warmer than he thought. He hadn't really been outside that day since he didn't need to be, owing to the fact he lived upstairs.

And when Tyrulf spoke of his tattoo, he couldn't help but try to get a peak at it, even after the dwarf put his shirt back on. Tyrulf noticed this, and though his initial reaction was that Jasper was too nosey for his own good, he ultimately decided it might do well to let the barkeep see it too. After all, he probably saw a lot of things come through there, so anything might lead to something. Without comment, his opened his shirt once more to show the prying barkeep his tattoo.

Jasper stepped closer and gazed at the body art. "Nice, that. Such a deep purple background, is it? It's vivid, rich even, and I'm a bit color blind, too. And the detail on the warhammer," he proclaimed it, "is quite excellent. You know . . . I've seen more than a few tattoos in my day, but never one so detailed as that. Some of the northern dwarves have family tattoos, I know, but I'm not sure if that's one of them. The one's I've seen are not so good as that."

"BARKEEP!" someone shouted.

"Oops, excuse me," he apologized, before hurrying off to tend to another customer.

----------------------------------------

The coach ride was not too bumpy, despite some rougher patches of road and long stretches of cobblestone streets. Cosh decided the thing must have some leaf spring suspension, making the ride smoother, but by the time they arrived he didn't remember to look since the conversation was so engrossing, and then the promise of good food and drink loomed so close at hand that he had quite forgotten the matter nearly an hour later when they pulled up to the Keg.

Afyanna collected her change, Derrick thanked her with a polite 'miss' normally reserved for young ladies, and then he cracked his whip, the noise signaling his team to move forward, off to whatever business he had had close by the Keg.

The trio entered the three-story building - one of the taller buildings in the area, though few anywhere had much call to rise above that height, and when they did, they were usually towers.

Warmth and pleasant odors greeted them at the door, and as they ventured inside, it just got warmer and more pleasant.

*I'll never understand how father put up with living on a ship for months at a time,* Afyanna thought. But then she suddenly had a new appreciation for why sailors recently in port acted the way they did, and would never look at them quite the same way again.

"Please, gentlemen, may I offer you a meal? My treat," she added. Though the extra incentive wasn't necessary for Cosher, who had money in his pocket, he saw no reason to mention that just then. Sefarlain, on the other hand, was somewhat more embarrassed, financially speaking, and mentally vowed he'd pay her back when he could. His smile and acceptance told her all she needed to know for the moment, so when the waitress came over, Afy ordered for all of them. No one objected to her selections since she was footing the bill.

The conversation between mouthfuls continued, and Afy had just inquired about feelings of 'divine will' when the waitress returned.

Hovering near Sefarlain, her wrinkling nose alone perhaps said too much about what was really in her mind, and then came the question that might easily offend, though it wasn't exactly atypical of a young girl who hadn't quite learned tact.

"Will that be all, or would you like to get a room and a bath, too?" she asked, looking right at Sef. "I mean . . ." she paused, realizing she may have said something inappropriate, and desperately trying to find a way to mitigate her faux pas and secure her tip, "I just assumed, umm . . . well . . . being new in town, you'd want a nice place to stay," she smiled, hoping it would be all right.

- JimGM