Archives of the World

Part I

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Story yet to come.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

~SE++

Part II

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Story yet to come.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

~SE++

Part III

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Story yet to come.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

~SE++

Slaves of Aurixvan Svantgrasp

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Time: 12:22
Location: Aurixvan Svantgrasp (Sellers and Traders Wedge)


A strong breeze flows through the streets of Aurixvan Svantgrasp's Sellers and Traders Wedge, the coming winter is ripe on the heels of the wagon caravan that has been brought into the city through The Great Arch. This giant gate into the fairly private city is only opened about three times a year, this will be the last great trade caravan that will come through for half a year. The treacherous journey up the mountain has proved it to all of you as you were stuck in the slave cages on the second to last wagon of the train. Each of you were taken from various parts of the land, some farther from the city, some only miles from the base of it. Each of you went down fighting, but the wagon train is run by goblins, and they had overwhelming odds against each of you. While they do travel and sell wares, buying and selling among the cities, they make the majority of their money in the slave trade. At the very least, each of you are put into a separate cage in peasant's clothing, your gear thrown into a wagon farther up ahead and left alone. They may trade slaves, but your possessions don't seem interest them at all. You were kept fed and in healthy form, but if at any point you pray or do anything like that, the slavers will strike you in the back of the head and knock you out for a short time (this forces spellcasters to forget any prepared spells for the day).

The streets of Aurixvan Svantgrasp are fairly busy today, word of the trade caravan has spread throughout the city, and anyone who can afford to make purchases, or artisans who wish to sell their wares are out in the streets. Handcarts have been rolled out by several people, some set up with wares from their shops, and more awaiting shipments of wares to sell. People come up to the wagons showing off their wares, holding them out to the goblins for inspection. Some are purchased, bags of copper, gold and periodically gems are handed over in favor of the wares produced. Others get rejected, though that hardly seems to damper the merchant's moods as it seems each wagon of the caravan is allowed to make their own choices on what to buy or sell. Some of the goblins seem to be less discerning than others.

After a few hours, each of you are approached by a series of goblins to get you ready. Despite any and all arguments, attacks or otherwise, each of you are roughly taken from your cages, manacles placed on your wrists and ankles. A goblin will also approach each of you with an instrument that has a leather strap on either side, a buckle on one and holes in the other. In the center is a hollow metal ring with a four inch long piece of flat metal protruding from the bottom of the rings. They force the metal ring into your mouth, the piece of protruding metal is facing down your throat and holding down your tongue and tighten the straps to gag you. The metal tastes horrible, and another goblin rushes up to you with a dirty chamber-pot as you vomit due to the metal screwing with your gag reflex. You try and talk, but the metal holding down your tongue and the ring holding your mouth open only allows you to make guttural sounds. Once the shackles and gags are put in place, you are ushered into a line behind a makeshift curtain behind a series of wooden crates and planks that make up a stage. On the other side, through and around the curtain, you can see the potential buyers for the slaves.

A goblin walks into the stage and addresses the audience in broken common. "Welcome to slave trade!" he calls out to the audience, his words met with polite applause. "Here we have many strong fighter, and good looking sex slave. The bidding each begins five gold. Have money ready at end of bidding, any unsold slaves are killed tonight. This last stop before winter fully. Bring up first slave! What name?"

"Harruc-Olk!" replies another goblin as he forcefully pushes Harruc-Olk onto the stage in front of the audience.

"Harruc-Olk good half-beast who travel with many potion makers! We take this big-un from them, we kill many weaker but he strong! We have bid?" Several people make early bids, shooting up from five gold to twenty in rapid succession. A few hands continually come up, driving the price to sixty gold in short time. The bidding stops at seventy-two gold, being sold to a man in fancy robes who seems fairly smug about his purchase. Harruc-Olk is prodded off the stage after the bidding stops. The crowd is conversing about the sale, speculation about what use a half-orc will be and what kind of use he will be put to. He is placed as the first in line of the sold slaves, as the others await their fates. The next two are younger girls, one elven and one human. They are both sold for lower amounts, apparently they had been from the same city, found just outside of the Orebene Range's Northernmost section. The elven girl, Korrah, sells for thirty-three gold to a boarish man, the human girl, Frye is sold to a woman dressed completely in shades of greens.

Kalevi Carter is next up on stage. "Kalevi here strong willed mage! He never miss with bolts of green magic, we almost kill this one, but he feisty! What bid?" Same song, second verse, hands go up and bids are shouted out. One voice calls louder than most, claiming he wanted to purchase the mage simply to break his fingers and see the mage suffer. It seems not every person here is tolerant of magic. As the bidding comes to an end, a woman dressed in blues and golds raises her hand and places a bet of one hundred gold, taking Kalevi for her own and away from the barbaric man who wanted to see him suffer. Kalevi Carter is moved in line behind the half-orc and two girls, awaiting payment. The next one up is an older man named Lysander, who is not bid on by anyone. He is moved to a line by himself, his eyes darkening, knowing his fate is only death since he couldn't be sold.

"Here is Nym!" calls out the goblin leader. "Nym is young elf, under five hundred year old! We find this one only miles from your gates, he claim to be Ebon Hand material! Who want?" The bids are low this time, and it is slow to begin. It seems people are unwilling to purchase someone who was already of the city. Eventually, the bidding picks up and Nym is sold for twenty gold pieces to the barbaric man who lost the bet on Kalevi. Nym is moved to the "sold" line and the next is moved up to the stage.

"Here Elkic, we find him in woods a weeks travel away. He alone in woods and we grab him up as he checking trap for food. Strong with nature, stupid to be caught. Anyone want reject?" Much like Nym, the bidding is slow to start and low to finish. He is bought for the low price of seventeen gold, some people murmuring that he is a flight risk since he is a tracker, others asserting that he will make a good servant due to his elven nature. The same man who bought Harruc-Olk purchases Elkic as well, his smug grin only growing wider as he asserts that he will make a fine owner of such a specimen. The next up is a girl who is introduced as an entertainer, taken from Pab'Oestenstad two years ago, and has remained unsold. She is named Bailey, and is eventually bought by a woman who looks like a handmaiden to a possibly noble family in the city. She had been a bit reluctant to spend the gold, but she eventually caved and won the bids by putting out seventy-one gold to beat out the competition. The goblins look incredibly pleased at this.

"This one called Lyra," calls out the head goblin as Lyra is pushed onto the stage. "Strong guard taken outside of Inik'Alimar, guard that patrol walls. She strong, wield axe, give my men hard time. We lose three to get her, bid no under twenty gold for loss! How much you pay?" This time there seems to be a lot of excitement. It seems like there is a lot of interest in a strong guard, murmurs about using her as a bodyguard, humiliating as a sex slave, or putting her to work in the fields. A strong body is always of interest, but one who is used to taking orders is even better it seems. The bidding goes very high at one hundred fifteen gold, being sold to a man in mage robes who appears to have very deep pockets. A very young woman is next, but she looks a bit sickly, and is not bought by anyone. She is moved behind Lysander and is visibly shaking in place, eventually falling to her knees and weeping openly until a goblin comes up behind her and knocks her out with a blackjack to keep her quiet and the crowds happy.

"Last slave today! Adremar Lothalus is sneaky one!" calls out the goblin on stage. "We find him trying rob us, he put up great fight, but we claim him. He sneaky, very sneaky! Great for making stealing from enemies. Last time to bid, last time to buy!" The crowds seem to be worked into a minor frenzy with the announcement of the last slave to be sold. Even so, purchasing an infiltrator is risky business, and the bids are kept low. In the end, an older man in a blacksmith's apron makes the final bid and buys Adremar for the low price of thirty-four gold pieces. This man is strong, has muscles on his muscles, and looks like he knows how to keep his apprentices in line. Adremar is moved to the line of sold slaves as the goblin brings the bidding to a close. "Thank for good coming out! We bring new wares to city next year, but now we still here for twelve more days! Thank all!"

The people who made bids and won are ushered behind the curtain where the sold slaves are standing in line. Each places sacks of gold that are carefully inspected by several goblins before they are allowed to take their new wares away. The process takes well over an hour, some small bickering ensues over gold pieces and copper pieces of questionable weights, but eventually all sales are finalized. Your possessions are given to your new owners to decide what to do with them. The two slaves who are not sold are shot in the back of their skulls with large crossbows and are sold to some farmers for their compost at incredibly low prices, just a few copper. Each of you are hauled off by the ones who won their bids on you, despite all fighting against it, they do get you moving through the city in several directions, the images of each of your cell companions fading behind various street corners.

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

As you are led by the manacles holding you, your new owners begin taking erratic paths around the city. Eventually, each of you are brought to a large stone building (well, they're all stone) and are led through a door and into a dark room. You hear some other voices and suddenly, the chains are dropped off of you. Before you can run, move, or bother to attack the ones who bought you, brazers are lit and you see that all of the sold slaves except for Korrah are also there with their owners, everyone out of their chains. Your possessions are dropped at your feet and the ones who purchased you step back respectfully. The woman who purchased Kalevi clears her throat.

"Please hear us out, then you are free to go," she says. "We just spent a great deal of gold to free you, we don't agree with slavery, but it is the custom in this city. We are a small group of a larger one known as The Patrons of Progress, and we need your help if you'll be willing. Would you hear us out?"

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

~SE++

Finally free of the restrictive gag Nym adjusts his jaw while he looks over both the slaves and their new 'owners'. "There was one other - an elven girl. Is she not among you? "

"Odd..." the first word leaving the half-orc's lips came as he reguarded their current situation. He already half expected to begin being whipped into some lord's, or mage's if the robes were any clue, servant complete with certain body modifications to insure he was more docile. The current situation was much prefered.

"If I were to take a guess her owner is not among the Patrons numbers," Harruck-Olk said still tasting the rusted metal of the mouth ring. He kneeled down next to his pile of gear hoping that the container for his infusions, their contents most certainly spoiler, had not cracked. The catalyst vial's contents on the other hand would still be usable if intact, or had any left. "Tell us what you Patrons of Progress want. Because right now, against my better judgement I might add, I have a deep desire to rend some goblin skulls from their small bodies. And you already have some idea how the last fight went," He says with his red hair and beard still needing a combing out from his long period in the slave cages.

Elkic rubs his arms, where the chains bit deeply into his skin as his eyes adjust to the bright flames. He listens intently to the woman, while running the events of the past weeks through his mind. How can I have been so foolish to have been captured, he thinks to himself. Life in the city has made me weak.
Clearing his head, he bows to the woman. You have saved my life, my lady. I will be forever in your debt. Any task you set for me, I will accomplish, or perish trying..

He points to his equipment, If I may? he asks permission to pick up his things. It would be a shame to have my throat slit trying to pick up my bow, he giggles a bit to himself.

Time: 12:22
Location: Aurixvan Svantgrasp (Sellers and Traders Wedge)


"We do our best to save as many as we are able, but we only had just over six hundred gold between all of us to spend," replies the woman. "Korrah was sold to a man named Rochard Kingston, and he is certainly not one of us. Owlet!" She calls out and the large barbaric man who had professed to wanting to break Kalevi's hands and watch him suffer lumbers over, carrying a decent size sack over his shoulder. He drops it at her feet and opens it. Fresh lettuce, baskets of red berries and cured meats are produced and set up on a small table, as well as leather flasks placed around the table. No one stops you as you put your gear back on as this is going on. "Please, eat," the woman says, waving a hand at the table. "We are all brothers and sisters here." Already, a few of The Patrons of Progress are sitting and taking various foods from the table, taking and laughing. (You guys can be as cautious of the food and drink as you want, but the members of The Patrons of Progress are eating heartily and you were not fed all that well while enslaved on the wagon train. The majority of your food was bitter potatoes that grew above ground on vines that clung to trees, boiled in plain water and mashed into a gruel.)

Looking at Harruck-Olk, "Our aim is to unite and drive the evil from our lands," she says. "There are ancient beings known as 'Dragons,' creatures that have faded into myth at this point and are only known to the masses as 'Winged Lizards' or some such." (you guys have never heard of Dragons) "They are a plague to our lands, and in the Age of Darkness to Light, they were hunted to extinction, or so we thought. But now, now we've been tracking down some strange events of the world and are convinced we were wrong, they were not wiped out. Some made it out of the Wars alive. We want to stop their rise to power again, and for that, we need strong and able bodies."

The man known as Owlet walks over to Harruck-Olk and places a large hand on his shoulder, "If you hunt the goblins, please do it after they leave. It would be bad for us who must work in the shadows to protect the Light if everyone saw the recently bought slaves attacking their captors within the city. It is only two more days they will be in town, then you could follow them out through the side doors of The Great Arch and draw as much blood as you feel necessary on the pathways and roads away."


~SE++

After checking his equipment and donning it, Elkic helps himself to some of the food, and one of the flasks. Dragons, you say? he says between bites. He thinks about the lizards he's seen before. I've not seen any flying lizards before, but how can a small lizard be that troublesome?.

Upon hearing Owlet's words Harruc considers the consequences of his desired actions and let's out an sigh, "That would be a very poor way to thank you. I am just enraged that these slavers are allowed to walk the streets after butchering my friends and mentors. One of them had pledged this one last trip dedicated to Sarenrae before retiring to help raise his children. And now his body along with my other companions lay exposed in some ditch without even a proper pyre to give them rest!"

Harruc had not remembered grabbing the shaft of his mace, but he felt its impact into the ground. "I... I am sorry for the outburst. Their death is too fresh in my mind to focus on these dragon creatures, whatever they are. But I would like to repay your kindness somehow,"

After quick check to see if all his gear was still together, the Half-Orc approached the table with a bottle and set it near the middle after pouring himself a small amount. "Feel free to try a little," he mutters slightly embarassed. He quietly grabs a little food and listens to the conversation.

Kalevi looks up at the woman "Really," he says, "I am very grateful for the good you have done us, and me in specific, and I should be quite flattered that you believe a man who could be so rudely subdued by a pack of goblins would be able to aid your noble endeavor.".

He picks up one of the berries and seems to examine it quizzically, more likely attempting to discern it's exact species than trying to look for any hints of poison or anything like that.

"I for one am not going to refuse to help," he says, "But I would very much like to know exactly how before agreeing, either."

Kalevi eats the berry and apparently finds it to his liking, picking out a few more as well as a hunk of the meat.

Nym continues to study the odd group - not entirely sure what to make of them. Eventually his hunger out weights his caution and he falls upon and greedily devours the offered foods. "This is *gulp* really good. I can't remember the last time I had a decent meal." He leans back on his hands with a content smile on his face. Crawling to his gear he begins picking through the pile and recovers his bow and draws it. "Ah my old friend. Looks like the goblins didn't damage you too much. Surprised they didn't attempt to sell you though. Good bows worth more then a few gold - apparently worth more then I am at any rate." His face turns suddenly grim as he turns back to face the Patrons. "This Rochard Kingston. He is a local? He has a home within the city?"

Hearing Nym, Kalevi stops cold, realizations hitting him. "Actually," he says, seeming somewhat ashamed "That might be a better question, if it's not too much a bother."

Keeping a wary eye on these new people, Lyra grunts a short thank you and picks up her greataxe and pack. She checks over the contents to make sure everything is still there. Feeling more at ease now that her dagger is on her belt and her greataxe is in her hand Lyra focuses on the food. Kalevi and Nym have eaten some of the food and look to be no worse off so it's probably fine, she thinks to herself. Lyra picks up a flask, some fruit and meat. She sniffs it cautiously then begins to slowly eat.

Time: 12:40
Location: Aurixvan Svantgrasp (Sellers and Traders Wedge)


The food is delicious, and the flasks are filled with honey water, both sweet and nourishing. You find that all of your gear is still very much in place and unmolested. You seem to be inside of the back of a merchant's shop where the excess merchandise is stored. By the looks of it, this is a shop that sells the wares of a tailor, bolts of different colored cloth hand everywhere, mostly fabrics made of flax, but several more exotic tot he areas, and some even made of silks.

"Dragons are dangerous, Elkic," says the woman. "A full grown male dragon will be well over eight hundred feet long with an equally long wingspan. Just the gust of their beating wings are able to destroy small buildings, not to mention the fire they breathe, the talons they wield, or the jaws that can consume multiple plowbeasts in a single bite. During the Age of Darkness to Light, there was a great war where the humanoid creations of the world banded with the humans to rid the lands of these monsters. A was was fought, and cities fell, one of which was Dridinik." She pauses here and looks around the room. None of you have heard that name before.

"Morgan, they don't know the ancient histories as we do," replies a short man with a walking stick who is eating at your table. "The city of Dridinik was the city of the Material Plane that the gods used to convene on a neutral field. While each had the ability to control and influence different aspects of the world, here they were on equal footing. When the Dragon's War was fought, the city of Dridinik mysteriously disappeared from the face of the world, leaving only a crater behind. When the city vanished, it was said the gods had been in a heated debate, and with the city's disappearance, the magic of the world vanished as well. Four hundred years of Darkness followed, and the war was fought by steel and wood, not by magic. In the end, the humans and creations were victorious. The legends say that there was a great impact as the city reappears just over where it had vanished, and as it fell into its place, the city was destroyed and magic flowed back into the world. This is what triggered the nearly two hundred year span known as The War of the Magi." He pauses to take a long drink.

"Duncan is right," Morgan says. "But we missed some dragons. Specifically the females. They looks like flawless human women with slightly different ears that have an almost.... scalloped look to them. Few see their ears due to their long hair that they keep over them. And it seems a few of them were pregnant at the time. Based on the ones we found and the dragons we killed, there are far more females than males, approximately one male dragon to every five hundred female dragons. When the cleansing was completed, it was said that there was a pregnant female who escaped into the mountains of Tugarin’s Spine. As legend has it, it was a rare male that the dragons hid away under the ground where none dare to go, and from there their power grew steadily over the past two thousand years. The only way we verified these stories is that there have been rumors cropping up from all over about abnormally beautiful women have been showing up in cities and collecting large amounts of gold and disappearing."

"And that brings us to you all," says Owlet. "We need allies, those who are willing to work secretly as to not arouse the suspicions of the Dragons. We must find them, track them, hunt their lairs and kill them all before the world is plunged into another several hundred year war. It sounds terrible, but we do it for the good of humanity. We must stop the coming war, because if they return to power, they'll be looking for revenge. It's a war we can't stop from coming unless we exterminate them again. Last time, we lost so much our histories stop there because we lost most of our historians and libraries full of the lore and truths of before that time."

"This is something we firmly believe in," chimes in an older woman dressed in pale shades of beige. "We want a world for our children, their children, and generations to come. Will you join us?" All eyes turn to you all as the silence falls.


~SE++

"Korrah." Kalevi whispers mostly to himself "Rochard Kingston. Remember.". He holds his head for a moment, then looks back, intent to address what would seem the be the more pressing matter.

"You're right., he says, It does sound terrible, and so does the alternative. I'm betting such nice chaps as yourselves, pulling the eight of us here after that awfulness... Well, you don't particularly seem the genocidal types.

Kalevi scrubs his face momentarily, doing his best to try to put all the pieces together It's a lot to take in. You understand, I'm sure. It's been a long time since Darkness and Light, hasn't it? There could be quite a few dragons, and most of them hard to identify, the rest -- well, if they grow that big as lizards I doubt they'd be harmless even with eggshell still on them... Do they lay eggs or -- that's not terribly important is it? Well, I mean I suppose that if they do we should look for eggs somewhere but... never mind. The point being that you haven't exactly made saying 'no' an easy choice, if it ever was one. It will happen, you say, and it will happen in our lifetime?

Kalevi lowers his head again, The word assassin doesn't have a good ring in my ears, but then again if that's what you wanted, would you buy slaves off the block, and tell them they were hunting monsters that broke the world and the world forgot about? It would be a good trick but I wouldn't think of it.

Kalevi sighs.

I'm not a strong man. he says, Nor brave. I won't lie and say that I am. But if you think that I'm part of what you need, then I for one rather like the world the way it is, recent company excepted, and I'd be willing to do what it takes to keep it that way.

Kalevi seems rather shaken by the whole mess, but sincere in the end.

As Nym listens to the Patrons story his face runs the gamut of emotions before settling on a nervous smirk. "Well that certainly turned dire fast. I don't suppose it's too late to go back to a life of indentured servitude?" He let's out a quick chuckle but stops immediately when no-one else seems to laugh. "*sigh* I don't mean to sound ungrateful - I have always considered myself a friend of this city - but your tale is a lot to take in. You need bandits hunted, a lost child found or a roof repaired then Silent Nym is your elf but you speak of dragons and gods and wars. This is beyond me - perhaps beyond any of us. I don't know how I'm supposed to react to any of this." The scarred elf hangs his head and pushes his food away - his appetite suddenly forgotten.

Time: 12:50
Location: Aurixvan Svantgrasp (Sellers and Traders Wedge)


"Not assassins," replies Morgan. "Saviors. You'd be doing the work of good, rescuing a world that would never know you did it for them. We're not offering glory, riches or reward, we're asking you to join us in a war that the masses know nothing about. We don't like what we do, but we have faith that it is the right thing to do. Killing isn't easy, nor should it be, that's for the cold of heart. What we are asking is... unfair. But our ranks cannot grow without us opening ourselves to you. We purchase slaves and train them, teach them, and give them the tools to carry out the work we must do, but we never force them." She turns her head to Nym. "If our request makes you uneasy, you may leave freely and without repercussion. We operate on faith, and if you do not believe we are necessary or right, it is your right to walk away. We only ask you stay long enough to let the caravans clear out of our city before going your own separate ways so as not to arouse suspicions. After that, we will part on good terms."


~SE++

"Going from being a slave who would no say in what is done with their own bodies, from simple orders to gelding, to being offered a place in a fight against an ancient evil... Can't say any of us are confident we belong," Harruc said still feeling the bitterness of loss.

He finished the few berries and the mixed contents of the flask. "One night to consider your offer, a place to rest and prepare for our next choice?"

Adremar Lothalus

As he's paraded into the building adorned in his slave irons, the elf's mind flashes over various plans of escape; everything from fighting his way out once the irons are removed to simply picking the crude locks on the simple chains. Once the truth of the matter is revealed though he finds himself a bit taken aback at how the situation had worked itself out and he wonders which Gods may have been smiling on him this particular day. With a glance around the room the elf takes note of which of the other slaves have also been brought to wherever they now find themselves. As his irons are removed every bit of his instincts scream out at him to run but despite it he remains...there seems to be more at work here than meets the eye at first glance.

Once the pile of gear is dumped at the feet of the former slaves, Adremar quickly kneels and snatches up his belongings. First, his blades, though nothing special he'd recognize them as quick as he would the back of his own hands. Second, his small leather pouch, hopefully the things inside had not been pilfered or broken. And last, his back pack, nothing fancy from the look of it save for a plain leather traveling sack, but inside was the rest of his worldly possessions even if they didn't amount to much. He snatches up a handful of the cured meat and retreats to a nearby wall away from the rest and begins to inventory his belongings and inspect them for damage.

Immediately he opens the small belt pouch and looks over his tools, inspecting the fine metal points and hooks before fitting each neatly back into their leather holder. Then, with only a hair less care he inventories the other contents: tinderwigs, flint and steel, a half dozen pieces of chalk, and a small metallic whistle which he then removes and places around his neck. Next he gives the weapons a look over, eyeing the blades for any new nicks or cracks and making sure all the pieces were still snug and before securing them along his belt. Lastly he goes through the contents of his bag making sure his rations, rope, sunrod, and toches are all still there and that the bedroll and waterskin are still secured to the outside. He buries his hand into the center of the tightly packed bedroll and a moment later brings it back out with a small coin purse which he then attaches to his belt. One hundred cooper pennies was nothing to go bragging about, but at least his captors had been too daft to find the rest of his coin.

Satisfied with his inventory, he stands up and leans against the wall and begins to gnaw on the cured meat, thankful for a bit of real food after the last several days. Feigning disinterest, he listens absentmindedly to the conversation between the others.