[This is the second in a series of in-character recaps of a DnD session I’m running in attempt to make what is traditionally a super boring part of DnD a much more fun one. It’s following the “Rise of the Sun King” via the eyes of reporter Aubrey “The Quill”. Check out last week’s here, and check back next week for pt. 3! This one was titled “The Zeta Cartel Continues to Infuriate and Bemuse”]
ed. note: As you read through these documents compiled by Aubrey The Quill, you may find yourself frustrated. It is, of course, common knowledge to all today who the Sun King is, what the intentions of the Zetas were, and the true natures of Coal, Somaria, and the University! Of course, as this is common knowledge I will refrain from repeating it here. It is safe to say that you must approach such texts in light of the glaring ignorance with which all actors have of their surroundings.)
Luckily, we weren’t forced to stay behind. A Writ from the king declared that all Pods (including ours) were not allowed to split up for any reason whatsoever. It’s pretty clear he was specifically referring to the Princess when he sent it. I feel that the King has too much trust in Sir Astrid, however, it’s not my place to say.
It was getting seriously droll in the rising castle. “Boone’s Crater”, some were calling it. The people showed the problems, too – heavy drinking coupled by dwindling supplies spelled definite problems. Increase in crime, sickness, disease, displeasure, all that kind of thing. Our medic, a man named Zedra, had half the castle in our base. Boone finally got a Hospital up and running, and – of course – it ended up in our house. The crew “gathered” materials for it, no questions were asked. They disguised the princess by cutting her hair and giving her lower class clothing, called her Kevin. “The Sting” got a bit richer, too – again, no questions. Sir Astrid led us into the forest the next day. It began to snow.
It feels like it’s always snowing here.
We hiked for the day till we all fell down exhausted, and proceeded to set up camp. It was quiet until Second Watch that night, when the squire Hathron reported to see a black garbed girl about 17 years old standing over Sir Astrid just “shimmer into nothing”, along with Sir Astrid. A few mercenaries attacked us, clearly as a distraction, and after minor injuries in the party the warriors in the group pillaged their bodies while the Monks buried the dead. They were all wearing pairs of these Ivory Bracelets. My artist is looking pretty ill, I’m not sure what’s getting to him. Self note: ask the medic next time we run into him.
We followed the trail of the mercenaries back to a bluff overlooking a clearing and a recently-built walled city surrounding the Wreck of the Zeta 22. The squire, now in charge, ordered that the mercenary Constantine take our stowaway “The Sting” and try to get into the city. After a bit of messing around, they got in while the rest of us waited in the snow. Dropped their weapons and armor at the gate. We watched through a spyglass.
Constantine and the Sting were appropriately dazzled by the sites of a Zeta Caravan Dropspot. After talking to some of the Guards, they learned that the Zetas were run by a man named “Ghent the Sherriff”, more legend than man. After some haggling with a physician, they met up with an Information Broker where they learned that this “Coal” which fueled ships also caused various supernatural reactions in those close to it, and wearing ivory (usually in the form of jewelry) supposedly inhibits this reaction. I guess I’m lucky, actually, as I’ve had an ivory broach since I was a kid and have been wearing it all this time.
The coal is being bought up left and right by the Zetas, especially in it’s more refined state, explaining why Somaria stabbed her brother for it. In exchange for that coal information, Constantine passed on the information that the Princess was traveling with none other than Sir Astrid Busser Cassus. Squire Hathron threw a fit once he found out.
After some deliberation, the rest of us were sick of waiting in the snow and decided it would be much nicer to rest in an inn. I believe the monks told Hathron of my exploits, however, as an impartial reporter of The Capitol Press it is my sworn duty to report, not to act. I will attempt to act better in the future. It’s just so… cold, around him.
After making our way back into the city and dropping off our weapons at the gate, showing them we all had ivory bracelets on, we went off to a dry tavern and spent the night there. In the morning, the elf and Hathron went off and talked to the information broker. He said that he had information on the locals and their relationship with the Zetas, and in exchange for this information he wanted us to go deal with an debting problem. We’re packing up now, I don’t know when I’ll have a chance to write again. Hathron looks like he wants to have us march for days straight. I’m getting my coat.
Aubrey the Quill, signing off for now.