Running with Horses

Theleb K'aarna in better times. Figure by Otherworld Miniatures.

Bomilcar is still suffering from his battered leg, so I am continuing to run Ehlessa. Jorthan also joins the group for the upcoming expedition to the Weeping Wastes.

Ehlessa's narrative

Having investigated the old Melnibonean tower, we return to the cove. On the way down Marion notices something rather peculiar, "Our new ship has changed colour!". She's right; the captured galley (bireme, actually) has gone from black to a beautiful shimmering sea grey, with dancing highlights of blue and silver. As we get closer, Sir Blanque notices that the ship seems to have named itself, with an inscription in Low Melnibonean running next to the binding rune: Straasha's Vengeance. So it looks as though the Sea King approves of our actions against the Pan Tang captain; it is well known that he has no love of the dark island folk because of their alliance with Chaos. Pyaaray of the Deeps and Straasha are in constant conflict, and the elemental in the galley must be much happier. The Pikarayd crewmen see this as a great omen, confirming their shift in allegiance away from Pan Tang to ourselves. 

Various minor duties are attended to and we then get a decent night's sleep; we will need all of our strength in the days ahead. I suggest that we all take some of the poisonous lotus wine from the tower to help with killing the sorcerer and the renegade. In the morning, we set out for the Weeping Wastes, retracing our recent journey, but this time in the opposite direction. Bomilcar stays on board Straasha's Vengeance, which now has a new captain and first mate on loan from the Nikorn warships. His leg is going to take at least another month before he is back to normal. That leaves myself, Jorthan, Destiny, Sir Blanque and Marion to ride for vengeance on Theleb K'aarna and Syphax.

We skirt the hills where Jorthan and I were captured by the Pikarayd crewmen and then ride eastwards, tending towards southeast as we keep a healthy distance from the northern tip of the Forest of Troos. We don't go to the Nikorn Estate; there will be time enough for that when we have achieved our current goals.  

As we reach the eastern Ilmioran plains, I and Sir Blanque both stop. There is a good spot for an ambush up ahead, with the trail, such as it is, passing between some rather large rocks on one side and a large stand of trees on the other. This part of Ilmiora has frequent areas of scrub and stone; it is commonly known as the badlands for that reason, and also because bandits are known to frequent the area. A lone horseman then appears from the rocky area and shouts a courteous greeting: "Hail, travellers, I am Bow Merren, and I claim lordship over this region for now. Please pay a toll and then you can go on your way."

Jorthan is not in the best of moods, and kicks his steed forward impatiently. "I am Jorthan, son of Nikorn," he says, "and I am in no mood for pleasantries." The reply is intriguing: "Nikorn, you say! The recent death of my business partner has left a hole in my heart, not to mention my profits. Please ride with me to my camp; I have something that will be of great interest to you all." Merren then shouts, "At ease, lads! I have business with these gentlefolks." At that, four more horsemen appear from the rocks, and around a dozen archers come from the woods, unstringing their bows. Marion is muttering something about trusting these people, but Merren's dashing appearance and easy demeanour allay some of her concerns.

Merren and his men nonchalantly join with us, and we learn much on the short ride to his encampment, which is very large indeed; he commands at least three times as many men as we have seen so far. "I consider myself a prince among bandits. My group is large, as you can see, but we only meet two or three times a year to make a large score. We then disband to our normal lives, gathering information about the next large caravan. I don't believe in small fry; if you're going to do this, do it properly. That's what I always say!"

Merren explains why he is so eager to treat with us, or rather with Jorthan in particular. "A certain Pilarmo is currently a guest of sorts with us. He was riding at full speed to get away from Bakshaan and Ilmar, and only had a couple of guards with him. We easily persuaded them that discretion was the better part of saving their hides. He had something with him that I think you really need to see."

Jorthan explains, "Pilarmo is one of the Consortium, the ruling council of Ilmar. The Consortium is headed by a Duke, which is not a hereditary title as such, being more of a throwback to the days of the Bright Empire." He nods to Destiny. "The Duke of Ilmar is served by a council of eight others, and he and the two most powerful members are also Ilmar's senators on the governing council of all Ilmiora, which is a republic. This meets in Ilmar, so the Duke of Ilmar is a very powerful person indeed. I wonder why Pilarmo was leaving in such a hurry." Merren intervenes; "You're about to find out!"

We are served with a surprisingly good meal, accompanied by very fine wines and other delicacies, probably all taken from passing trade. Merren opens a packet of letters, documents that he took from Pilarmo when he captured the man. "You can either read these now or go and see Pilarmo; the choice is yours." We decide that it's best not to alert Pilarmo to our presence yet; there is much more going on here than we had thought. This decision turns out to be correct; the letters are a series of correspondence between Pilarmo and three other members of the Consortium with Theleb K'aarna. "This is evidence of treason!" says Marion. She's right; it also explains why the Pan Tang sorcerer was so well informed about Nikorn's movements and defences. Pilarmo, together with councillors Deinstaf, Kelos and Tormiel, conspired to bring about Nikorn's ruin, presumably to remove a very successful business rival with a better claim to being a senator. They have been treating with a Pan Tang enemy for the sake of commercial gain, playing with Ilmiora's security. Half of the Consortium in league with Pan Tang! Not a pleasurable thought.

This revelation starts a serious discussion. We could kill Pilarmo now; threaten him; or leave him here to rot until we come back this way. His person and the incriminating letters will make a meeting with the Duke of Ilmar a very interesting proposition. Merren suggests another couple of options: "Throw the man a dagger and tell him to do the honourable thing. Or perhaps get him to fight Jorthan in a duel of honour." It turns out that Jorthan's father kept Merren on retainer, with a 'tribute' of 3,000 Large Bronzes per year; this explains why Merren is so popular with his men - with an income like that, he can afford to be generous with large cuts of the profits from banditry going to them. Merren's side of the bargain was not to attack any Nikorn caravans, and also to take advantage of his knowledge of the trade routes to slip any intelligence in the right direction. Jorthan and Merren agree to renew this agreement, and we also decide not to do anything about Pilarmo. He can stay here in his ignorance of our whereabouts. Sir Blanque in particular is dead set against taking any action; we should let the rule of law run its course, he says.

The next day we say our farewells, and head off on the next stage of our journey. Merren tells us that by the time we return he will have moved his encampment, a standard precaution. "But not to worry; I'll know when you are on your way!" he says. We now devote ourselves to the grim business of trying to deal with a powerful sorcerer and his compatriot. As we ride, we discuss our options. We know that he probably has some demonic protection, as well as a large, unnatural warhorse; this is information we gleaned from the Shazaarian first mate of our galley before the Ilmiorans hauled him off to prison as we were leaving Tower Cove. I also skirt the route as we progress, riding outwards now and then to seek the lie of the land. Theleb K'aarna should be unaware of our pursuit, because as far as he and Syphax are aware, Jorthan and I should either be dead or waiting back at Tower Cove for his return. 

However, with an enemy like this, there is no point in taking any chances. Destiny notes that he must have used up most of his available resources in the assault on the Nikorn estate, and that he probably hasn't had much chance to replenish them. Ilmiora has large expanses of land between the cities, but it is a reasonably Lawful place, so he shouldn't have been able to make any major summonings. I also occasionally see deeply indented hoof prints that must belong to his horse; given the distance from the main route and their relative freshness, I surmise that the pair of them are being extremely circumspect; they seem to be avoiding the main path altogether, and are probably travelling by nights only; the sight of a Pan Tang sorcerer accompanied by a Weeping Waste warrior would set any tongues wagging, to say the least. This means that despite their head start on us, we will be catching up with them quite nicely. I still think they'll get to the lands of my people before us, but not by much - probably half a day in all. 

We arrive at lovely Karlaak of the Jade Towers, and get a good night's sleep. Jorthan's family keeps a large presence here, including a townhouse for personal use; the staff is led by a very efficient steward. Destiny is interested in Karlaak, because it has a very good library (reference only). "Definitely worth exploring at one point," she says.

Another morning of travel. We start to head eastwards towards the rising escarpment of my homelands. "My tribe tends to roam around the areas nearest the edge of the plateau," I say. "This made us a logical choice for an alliance with Nikorn". At that point I see a group of riders approach. "Keep still," I tell my friends. There are about six horsemen of the steppes, although not of my own people. They suddenly break into a gallop and circle us just outside bowshot, whirling their lances above their hand and whooping a great deal. Destiny in particular is worried about this threatening behaviour, but I reassure everyone; "They are showing us their weapons in a gesture of respect so that we can see they are hiding nothing from us."

Eventually they stop and their leaders ambles his pony towards us, so I ride forward to converse with him. He is of the Surra people, and they have come down recently from the plateau to take advantage of the lush springtime growth in the lower plains. He invites us to meet his chief, and off we all go together.

The Surra is delighted to see us, and welcomes us courteously. His people are especially happy to meet me, a member of the Pure Horse tribe, and are also excited by the presence of a Melnibonean - none of them has ever encountered one before, and their reputation is less negative among the horse people than it is for the more settled lands of the Young Kingdoms. We tell him of our quest, and he nods gravely. "We know of this man from Pan Tang; he crossed our lands only yesterday on a great black steed. With him was a man known to us, Syphax the Outcast. Their presence can only bring death, and we wish you well." The Surra then invites us to take the Challenges of Alliance once he realises that I am to be Chief Rider of my people; he also admits that he would be delighted to make a formal alliance with the Nikorn family and with a Melnibonean lady of such standing. Since there are five of us, there will be five tests. Most of the tribe gathers around us to watch, and there is great deal of good natured jostling and banter. 

Marion takes the first test - a contest of dagger combat, with the best out of five touches winning. She scores twice against her opponent, and the crowd is loving it. Much betting can be heard going on in the background. Her opponent manages to pull a point back, but then Marion scores again; a win at 3-1. I take the riding test: a straight run of 100 yards, with three hats placed on the ground that need to be swept up as the rider pasts. My ride is faultless, but my opponent stumbles her horse on the approach and bags only one. So we are now two tests up. For the next test, archery, Destiny takes her longbow out of its case, and this occasions much awed commentary from the tribespeople. They crowd forward to see what happens; they've never seen a bow like this one. Destiny and her opponent each have ten shots, and the person who pierces a target shield with the most shots win. Accuracy is used in the case of a tie. Destiny wins 3-1 regardless because of the power of her bow, and the crowd cheers. Jorthan is up for test four, storytelling, and wins handsomely; as a trader, he is well versed in the art of public and private speaking, and has a fine singing voice too. The final test is free-form, and Sir Blanque decides to use his skills in first aid, a major interest of the horse nomads given our itinerant lifestyle. He and his opponent are given a wooden leg to show a good tourniquet, and much merriment ensues when his opponent breaks the leg instead of 'healing' it. The Surra declares this victory of ours to be a great omen, since the visitors have won all five, and we stay the night.

As we set off on the final part of our pursuit, the Surra and his shaman bless our party; "May the spirits guide you in your quest for vengeance!" The hoof prints of Theleb K'aarna's horse are now very fresh indeed, and I estimate that we will indeed only be half a day behind them by the time we reach the lands claimed by my people. The path winds upwards, and as we come out onto the open plateau we look back. The view back westwards is breathtaking, as always.

We ride hard, hoping to catch our two opponents after nightfall on our second day in the Wastes. We don't want to give them too much time to cause mischief among my people; Syphax will certainly try anything to make himself the next Chief Rider. As night comes and we start to get closer, I note that  a great many tracks seem to be converging on a single spot; "The whole tribe seems to be going towards one of our sacred places, an ancient henge." Sure enough, in the distance can be seen the gleam of many lights and the murmuring of a large number of voices; Marion says that she smells something odd, something that seems out of place. Sir Blanque says, cryptically, "Good. It's now after midnight." I wonder what that could possibly mean.

Given the throng, we are able to infiltrate and get close enough to see what is happening. Nobody notices any of us because all eyes are on the spectacle that presents itself. The people are gathered around one side of the henge, and at the other a large area of ground has been cleared. An octagon has been inscribed on the ground in the form of a narrow trench dug by spades, and is filled with some kind of acrid oil that burns in the night; this must be the source of the smell Marion detected on our way here.  Near the octagon, Syphax holds a knife to the throat of our shaman Hamilcar, who is on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. Theleb K'aarna stands facing the people, next to a brazier on which he throws some sweet-smelling herbs. As he inhales the smoke from them, he shouts at the people, "I will show you that I am more powerful than your shaman. I will sacrifice him and the demon that he embodies will protect Syphax, your new chief!" Although both Destiny and I have drawn our bows with poisoned arrows nocked, we make no sudden movements. We all have our weapons ready, but keep them hanging by our sides so as not to alert the two men to our presence as yet.

Something dark and writhing is starting to appear in the octagon, but it is still formless. Theleb K'aarna turns to the shaman, who laughs in his face. He then looks straight in our direction, and I see a startling vision. Time stands still and I see a great flash and thunderclap. A beautiful white horse manifests itself, rearing, and smashes its hooves through the octagon.

I shake my head to clear it, and I glance at the faces of my companions. All of them except Sir Blanque seem to have been affected by the same vision. He, though, says, "Cover your eyes!" There is then an enormous flash of light, a veritable flash of lightning that seems to strike with a great clap of thunder. "Oops, that was a bit strong!" he says. Everyone except us is blinded, and the fully aware Hamilcar reacts by using his now strangely free hands to pull Syphax towards him and sticks his knee at full force into a really sore place on the renegade's body; he doubles over in agony as the shaman scoots behind one of the standing stones. 

Marion throws a knife at the stunned form of Theleb K'aarna; it aims true, but his robe seems to swirl around and catch it. The knife lands harmlessly on the ground. Jorthan and Sir Blanque run towards our enemies, but I have an idea, as suggested by the vision of the horse spirit. I shift my aim from Syphax to the line of the octagon, but I miss with my arrow. Destiny does not, and the force of her arrow's flight in the dust makes a neat line across the octagon, breaking it. The thing inside starts to manifest claw-like appendages that spark and flare as they strike the air above the octagon, and then they are through. Instead of attacking the sorcerer, the demon simply grabs him and pulls him straight back into its form. The blinded sorcerer screams horribly, and there is a deafening bang as the demon disappears back to wherever it came from, taking Theleb K'aarna with it. 

In the meantime, Jorthan and Sir Blanque have hammered a couple of blows into Syphax, and the renegade falls to the ground, bleeding profusely. All mayhem has of course broken loose as the entire tribe has been blinded, and none of them knows what is going on. As their sight slowly returns, they see what is left of the site of the summoning, and our shaman comes forward. Hamilcar orders that we leave Syphax to bleed to death there to cleanse the place, and immediately invests me as Chief Rider. He says that as shaman he knows everything that happens in the sacred place if he is inside it. "I knew you were here, so I sent you the vision. I am in tune with the horse spirit of our tribe, especially in this place." I reply, "We did not merely kill the sorcerer; we sent him to hell!"

As we pick up the pieces, Destiny approaches the Pan Tang warhorse, muttering something to herself about weird humans with strange spell-like powers; I remember that Sir Blanque was tutored by Orelius, the Priest of Law slain by Theleb K'aarna in the assault on the estate. It seems fitting that the instrument of revenge is one of his own students. The horse itself is a strange creature, jet black apart from its red eyes, and as one looks closer it can be seen that its tack is actually part of it; a subtle octagon is inscribed in the headpiece. Destiny holds the bridle and the horse struggles a bit, then relaxes. It speaks in Low Melnibonean, telling her that she is now its mistress. Destiny then goes through the saddle bags, and comes up with some very rare prizes: a large supply of summoning herbs; an amulet with a fire rune (bound fire elemental); and the sorceror's grimoire. Her face lights up when she finds that one. All in all, a satisfactory night's work.


Umpire's notes
I thought up the bit about the ship changing colour; I thought it would make a nice touch. It just seemed sensible for Ehlessa to suggest taking some of the poison, given the power of the opposition; I did roll against her Intelligence first, though. This is how I usually help the plot line move along, within reason. I have recently acquired copies of a two-part linked campaign for Stormbringer that I used to own many years ago. I changed things around a lot because there's no point in having the characters go up against Elric himself, and I made a weakened version of Theleb K'aarna into the main enemy. The role of Syphax was suggested from one of the childhood events in Central Casting when I first rolled up Bomilcar in character generation. Many of the details in the two-parter (Stealer of Souls and The Black Sword) don't fit my conception of the Northern continent, especially the bit about a caravan trail going through Troos and taking shelter in Org, but the details of that and Nadsokor, the City of the Beggars, may well come in handy at one point. I did, though, use Bow Merren, although with much less conflict. I also made use of the contests with the nomads; Thomas says it was the best part of the evening's play, especially when his opponent Fumbled in the First Aid contest.

I had also planned in advance how the final encounter with Theleb K'aarna and Syphax would play out, but if the characters were unable to take advantage of Sir Blanque's rather peculiar post-midnight abilities, they would be in very serious trouble: a veteran Weeping Waste Warrior, a Pan Tan sorceror and a freshly summoned rampaging Demon of Combat would be a really nasty combination. I had intended for some of the braver warriors to help, but Thomas rolled a Fumble for his spell use. I decided that the event would be unbelievably powerful, and way out of his control. It blinded pretty much everyone, so the characters were on their own. As it happened, though, it went well, and Theleb K'aarna was dragged kicking and screaming to his doom: Kane and Elric stories made a neat combination in what passes for my deranged imagination.

The conflict with the four merchants now needs to be resolved. After that, the players can decide for themselves what to do next. There are plenty of choices, with the trade empire of the Nikorn family needing to be reconstituted. And depending on what they do next, there could be a great deal of political fallout from the crisis in the Consortium. I have a large number of appropriate scenarios which can be raided to suit, but they can make the choice as to which strategy they would prefer to follow.