Brogendenstein Confidential

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Intrepid42
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Re: Brogendenstein Confidential

Post by Intrepid42 » Fri Nov 06, 2020 7:14 am

They say a little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing. And they're right. My bit of undead-hunting was a help. But over in Arelith, they've got things that crawl in the night because they're hiding from the things that crawl in the day. Stay there long enough, and you'll see crud that'll take the colour from your beard. If you've seen the dwarven warriors outside Brog's Gates, could be that's the reason.

It wasn't a pleasant time. More than a few of those things were tired of crawling in the night and wanted their time in the Sun. Only they couldn't, and settled for bringing night with them.

And the Militia were right in their way.

Now Cordor has it's Guard. But Brogendenstein up north ways divides things up. Top of the pile is the Thane's Kuldarn. Now, if you're all set up to fight in a mining shaft like the clans, what you have there is what they call a narrow frontage. Forget flanking or fancy stuff like that. It's a straight-up brawl with whatever axes and magical waggling can be thrown about over the top. In a fight like that, you want the few folks up front to be the best you have, with all the glowing runes. That's the Thane's Kuldarn.

Now, they're not always about. Off fighting dragons or getting those runes. So there's the Militia that minds the stores and Gates. They're kuldarn too, if you know your Dwarvish. But the Thane's Kuldarn are the elite. You can tell by the capital letters.

Behind them are all the ordinary clanfolk, most of whom can remember which end of an axe is which. But if they're asking Great-Uncle Bruni to dust off the family rune axe then things are getting real bad. The world is full of folks trying to kill the clans, and not so full of clanfolk. If they're not trading one warrior for a couple of dozen enemies the arithmatic just doesn't work.

It's a brutal game. The hold moves the Kuldarn around the great gameboard of survival, blocking enemies off, and the enemies try to shift their pieces about so they can get at the soft bits. Well, the hold ain't got too many soft bits, so let's call them the bits that are softer. The hold's good at the game when the enemy is all angry and shouty. Not so good against things they can't see coming.

If you ask me, that's the reason why the Earthkin Alliance works. Well, when it is working, that is. If I ever wanted to know what was happening, I asked about in Bendir. Hin get everywhere. And by everywhere I mean everywhere. If something went missing in Bendir it tended to stay missing. I eventually wised up and stayed away from their missing property jobs. But if there was someone who seriously pissed them off. Well, they could tell you who, where, and how many freckles.

Anyway, the Iron Anvil Clan out at Camp Duin probably blamed themselves after it all got settled. But it wasn't their fault and noone blamed them. There's some things that don't show up in a telescope. No matter how much you polish the lens.

This time it was vampires hunkered down in an ancient fortress way north of the hold. They skulked down the mountains one at a time, and nobbled the Militia one at a time. Downside of having a team that can fell dragons is that the ones on the Gate ain't exactly Brog's finest.

Now, the thing about there not being too many of us, is that if we don't know names and faces, we know how things should be done. It became pretty obvious pretty quick that a whole bunch of us weren't operating with a full satchel of throwing axes, as it were. Even for yours truly just wandering through.

Turned out the Thane and his Council were all over it. And I got roped in to make up numbers. I couldn't have been more out of my depth if you slapped Kuldar plate on me and dropped me over the side of the Ironhelm.

Sometimes you pick the job. And sometimes the job picks you.

~~~~~~

Intrepid42
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Re: Brogendenstein Confidential

Post by Intrepid42 » Wed Jul 12, 2023 7:01 pm

The day was not quite ended as we stepped through the gates of the manor. I took a breath of that cold, damp air.

It made my nostril hairs bristle, let me tell you. And I've got more than a few. I could smell the blood. And it wasn't your ordinary murder scene blood smell. No, this blood was old, but not yet rotted. And without any of the hints of spilled guts and rats those other storytellers never think to include.

And the Manor of Mourn? It's as dark and forbidding as it's rep. Ticks all the boxes.

Built on high cliffs? Check. Walls blackened with soot? Check. The sound of bats screeching in the distance? Check. Overlooking a sea of fog? Depends on the weather.

I checked my trusty crossbow and followed the mustered strength of Brogendenstein in. The air was thick with the smell of decay.

And the Thane did what he had to do. It had been a long day's work, and stretched into a long night's work too.

What lingered in my mind even now as I write this, wasn't the screams, or the blood. The fallen kin we couldn't save. The endless parade of death slightly warmed over. It was the others. The humans, and others, sent as thralls ahead of the pack. And not quite mindless enough to dull the sense of it.

Those memories stick with me even now. I remember looking at the other's faces as we marched home. They looked like I felt inside.

And I thought about things. All those years looking down on those would-be heroes. Their bitter humour in the face of evil. Their utter refusal to take serious matters seriously. All that time resenting the resources they soaked up like fresh floor-mops after a sermon on Hanseath.

But no. I saw a deeper truth that day. It's true that facing monsters makes you a monster inside. Those adventurers so indifferent to the mundane pain of the rest of us. They'd found a path that let them keep some kind of grip on their soul. And they clung to it for dear life.

Myself? I wasn't sure that was me. Did a lot of private Hanseath worship. What did stolen signs and broken doors matter when such things existed? And what good was I? Right then, I didn't rightly know.

~~~~~~~


Intrepid42
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Re: Brogendenstein Confidential

Post by Intrepid42 » Fri Jul 28, 2023 6:50 pm

I mean, to be clear here, I wasn't spending my days with feet up at Rhek's living off the fat earnt back in better years.

I was doing odd jobs for the clans and various Isle sorts. If by odd jobs you mean doing my bit in reasonably momentous events.

This one night, it was your typical dark and stormy one. Rain coming down in sheets, and the wind howling like a banshee. Perfect night for a crime. You get a lot of those part-way up the Spires.

I stopped at the gateway to the Halls of the Dead, coat dripping wet. I took a deep breath and stepping inside.

Official had collared me for a break and entry job. Only it wasn't your ordinary. And it wasn't so much a break and entry job.

Once I was inside I got more of the skinny. And it was pretty damned skinny even then. I couldn't help but notice we were walking past a lot of the more ordinary crypts. Sure enough we ended past the Line of Thanes itself, and before the final resting place of one of the names on that ancient petrified history book in tree form. Thane Blimth himself. But not in the flesh. Or even in the skeleton.

That crypt had been busted open like the next keg of ale at Rheks. And stood emptier than my hip flask come end of day.

No tracks I could read. What the Elf we'd brought along thought could have been an Infernal rune of Death on the outer stone work.

A chill colder than an icicle down the back of a chainmail shirt went down my spine. The lean on the biggest chunk. The pattern of the smaller fragments. That tomb had been opened from the INSIDE.

If you're guessing that ain't a good sign, then you're right.

And here I was, deep in the Halls of the Dead, and those few with me had eyes on the tomb, not the side corridors. I looked around, slowly. It was clear for the moment. But it was time to get more than a few more friends on the case, I reckoned.

That was a day and a half to remember. The next Thane along mustered his guard and eventually had to face down the spirit of the departed. There was a lot of serious grumbling, along with something about hardwood. Didn't catch all the details.

End of next day, it came clear that an infernal ritual of some sort had been done. We put the fallen back to rest. Though I don't know if the Halls ever caught up with the perp on that one. But sometimes you just have to settle for getting a feel for the pattern and nabbing them if they tried the same thing a few times.

{Note to Self: Remember to check with clans before submitting to agent. Secrets of the clans and all that}

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Intrepid42
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Re: Brogendenstein Confidential

Post by Intrepid42 » Sat Aug 05, 2023 8:31 pm

So, I hadn't quite hit rock bottom. But you could say the shaft was looking mighty lean on seams where I was delving at the time.

I was having doubts about my whole chosen occupation. Proper finding things-work takes time, and being settled in yourself enough to be able to listen proper. And I was having trouble treating stolen goods seriously while thinking about lost souls. Of the literal and metaphorical kind both. As I've said, Arelith is a place with Problems.

And there was plenty of the ongoing stuff to process. I'd always spent more than a few hours worrying about truth and justice, and whether my job was more of the latter than the former. As you'll have read, they ain't always the same thing. Or at the very least blinking hard to deliver together, on the sort of budgets and schedules clients were wont to want. And I thought some more about a case from years prior.

There I was. The tavern was dark and smoky, and the air was thick with the smell of cheap booze and sweat. A few men were sitting at the bar, nursing their drinks. A half-elven lass was singing in a drunken voice on the stage.

So when the Speedy came in I wasn't in the most receptive frame of mind. Those fast little blighters are always so damned enthusiastic, regardless of whether I was getting in some serious contemplating or not. As they ran through their own client's spiel, the headache I was nursing was growing faster than a Sword Spider in a cave full of goblins.

Now, the thing about this case. Well, there were quite a few things about this case. So, One of the things about this case was that the client was looking for Truth. Or near enough as this continually-broke delver could deliver. Now, that was unusual. So much so I paused my charcoal on paper note-taking for a bit and gave her one of my best brow-quirks. As I said, clients are suckers for style. But, sure enough she confirmed it. And so fairly warned was she.

Now this was a few years back. But client and relevant parties were Elven. And not your wandering freelance Elven. We're talking Myon noble, or wanting-to-be-noble, or wishing-they-weren't noble Elven. There's a lot of things people say about them. And one of the things that is true is that they tend to live a long time, unless some Underdweller gets a say in writing their biography directly. So to preserve my client's interests we'll call her S.

If you're starting to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach by now, then you might have a shot at surviving this sort of work. Yes, this was definitely one of Those cases. But the client had mentioned the best words of all.

Payment in Advance.

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