The trip had been long and arduous, but eventually it came to a close, as the party found itself at the walls of a small settlement. A short negotiation with the gate guards produced not only safe entrance, but a potential buyer for the bag of naughty books that the adventurers couldn't wait to get rid of.
But the village of Marketplace hardly justified the expectations of the party, which had been on the road for the last several weeks. It was no more than a handful of huts clustered at the sides of some market stalls, with the only distinguishing feature being a Lightning Rail station. It was this that gave the adventurers a good idea. After all this time, the pleasure of each other's company was wearing thin, and it seemed a good idea to split up, and collect information on what happened to the Keepers of Eberron. Having found themselves in the middle of a war between Aundair and Thrane, with the rest of Khorvaire nations choosing sides, the remaining Keepers would surely be glad to see their surviving mates.
So, having talked to the local big wig and sold off the accumulated loot, they split up the profits and went their separate ways. Maryo and Sikomor headed to Aundair, the former to check on his bakery and find out if the Keepers could enlist the help of the mercenary company run by one of their high-ranking members; Sikomor wanted to meet her grandfather and grandmother, heroes of old . Lachlan chose to head south, to Zilargo, and gather information about the goblins. Borlander couldn't make up his mind, so he ended up going along with Maryo and Sikomor.
This left the team's two fighters. Blacklight was eager to complete his mission and deliver LaLa to the customer, and so he wanted to go to Breland; Blade chose to join him, at least for the time being. Unfortunately, the raging war had limited the freedom of passage. While the House of Orien remained neutral, providing its services to all, civilian passengers travelling from the borderlands were forbidden to bring weapons on the train. A bit of brainstorming, and the fighters came up with the idea of hiring themselves out as guards for a freight shipment. This would hopefully give them an excuse to carry arms, and maybe even a bit of extra gold.
For now, with purses flush, Blade and Blacklight went shopping. Over the last few weeks, Blacklight had sorely missed having a ranged weapon, and was now committed to getting the best bow Marketplace could offer. After a bit of rummaging through the assorted wares, they found a weapon truly fit for a Wood Elf, a marvelous composite bow. Blade's jealousy almost got the better of him, but he regained enough control to buy a slightly lesser one - though still quite impressive. The fighters also augmented their armour, and resupplied their rations. Still, something was on their mind.
With the loss of Sikomor, the significantly reduced adventuring party had no healing facilities with them - and no time to train in the medicinal arts. The word on the street spoke of someone who could help them, the town witch, who kept a modest store of magical baubles.
The witch had just the item to offer them: a large pot of powerful healing salve, something that would surely last them a while. But she was not willing to part with it for a coin and a thank you. The witch had an agenda of her own, something that a couple of strong men proficient in combat could certainly help with.
As it turned out, the local merchants had become somewhat disillusioned with the market chief. Blade and Blacklight cared little for motivation; there was a man in town who needed killin', and they had a day or two to spare. The witch suggested that before they went after the head, they could make an effort to thin the ranks of his goons somewhat. Even with a mass of Thranean soldiers passing through the town on their way to the front line, the chief's gang was a formidable force. When the witch offered the adventurers a way to knock some heads, and maybe make some serious money in the process, they could hardly refuse.
Marketplace was a dreary little frontier settlement, and its entertainment was skewed to the simplistic side. The biggest game in town was the Knuckle Ring, a tournament of roughnecks with a betting pool attached. After checking out the action in the scope of an afternoon, Blade and Blacklight were ready to get down to business, with the help of a few of the witch's special potions. Passing through the first few rounds with ease, they found that only the last two opposing teams were any sort of match for them at all.
To the roaring approval of the crowd, they first dispatched an old man and a local musclebound type with relative ease. Tensions were running high, and the last battle was to the death. Faced with a lightfooted ninja and a robust troll, the adventurers had to use all their skill. The startled crowd barely believed their eyes, knowing that the implausible techniques displayed by the opponents would be the subject of heated debate in Marketplace's inns for months to come. Finally Blade and Blacklight prevailed, and with the top fighters in the chief's gang eliminated, they were ready to collect their winnings and proceed with the next phase.
Most of the goons were holed up in their barracks, waiting for dinner. With a choice poison from the witch's stock in his grasp, Blacklight applied his ranger instincts to quietly crawl through the kitchen window. After making sure that the broth still looks and smells edible (and in fact far improving those qualities from the original state), the Wood Elf was about to leave, when an unfortunate trip alerted the men to his presense. Blacklight was forced to act his way out of trouble, pretending to be a poor beggar who was just trying to steal a bit of bread and soup to feed his family. The goons of a rank hole such as Marketplace were apparently far too stupid to wonder why the beggar was an elf with battle armor poorly concealed by a worn, but still good traveller's outfit.
Having despatched the goons, it was time for Blade and Blacklight to take care of the market chief. The two combat masters attacked the two-storey stone house with a flurry of carnage, working their way through half a dozen armed men before finally finding the chief, now protected by a single crossbowman, in his nightgown. Blade was feeling particularly humanitarian that night, refusing to kill a sleeping drunkard in one of the rooms; however, this did not preclude him from eliminating the rest of the opponents. Chasing the market chief down a crawlspace and into the first-floor storage room, they found not only a dead man, but also a slew of goods of various value. The chief's exotic ringmail, additional protection wearable under regular armor, and a bundle of precious cloth were the only things the adventurers chose to take. But their day was not yet over: on their way out the door, they were greeted by half a dozen Thranean soldiers.
The fight with the soldiers was difficult, with Blacklight even forced to dig into his cache of health food (the acorns from the Tree of Life), but by using a doorway as a choke point and Blacklight's spiked chain as an excellent tripping tool, they were able to defeat the foes. Their last murder of the day happened when they were leaving the building. As they heard a witness scuttle away from the door, it was an excellent opportunity for Blacklight to test out his new toy. The composite bow fired true, and Blade made another mark in his little black book as the adventurers headed back to the witch's place for their just reward and some much-needed healing.
A day's rest and some cooperation from the locals the tiny party had to pay their own bribes to get on the Lightning Rail as a merchant's guards, and the train would not take them all the way to Sharn, but it was good enough.
A human spear-merchant called Regerik would take them to a goblin-controlled railroad crossing between Hatheril and Dragons Crown, from where the party would have to venture on by themselves. The Regerik's own teams consisted of 8 short, scrawny and dirty warforged, who didn't look built for war.
Despite getting a nice chuckle out of the hastily printed poster graphically depicting the carnage of the previous night to illiterate townsfolk, the fighters felt that Marketplace had nothing more to offer them. Unfortunately the next train would leave no earlier than 10 days later and the party had no other choice than to seek lodging. Since they had to lie low for the next days,
it made sense to find as inconspicuous a place as possible, and indeed, soon they found a small
clay hut whose owner, a friendly-looking old hag called Minna, was gladly willing to lodge them for ten days, at the cost of 1GP per day. The fighters and their llama settled in for what would be a long and hopefully boring wait.
It was the morning of September 22nd.
Maryo, Sikomor and Bolander head North and Lachlan South. Blade & Blacklight remain in the town to catch a lightning rail that would eventually allow them to reach the city of Sharn in far South-West (not on this map).
But the village of Marketplace hardly justified the expectations of the party, which had been on the road for the last several weeks. It was no more than a handful of huts clustered at the sides of some market stalls, with the only distinguishing feature being a Lightning Rail station. It was this that gave the adventurers a good idea. After all this time, the pleasure of each other's company was wearing thin, and it seemed a good idea to split up, and collect information on what happened to the Keepers of Eberron. Having found themselves in the middle of a war between Aundair and Thrane, with the rest of Khorvaire nations choosing sides, the remaining Keepers would surely be glad to see their surviving mates.
So, having talked to the local big wig and sold off the accumulated loot, they split up the profits and went their separate ways. Maryo and Sikomor headed to Aundair, the former to check on his bakery and find out if the Keepers could enlist the help of the mercenary company run by one of their high-ranking members; Sikomor wanted to meet her grandfather and grandmother, heroes of old . Lachlan chose to head south, to Zilargo, and gather information about the goblins. Borlander couldn't make up his mind, so he ended up going along with Maryo and Sikomor.
This left the team's two fighters. Blacklight was eager to complete his mission and deliver LaLa to the customer, and so he wanted to go to Breland; Blade chose to join him, at least for the time being. Unfortunately, the raging war had limited the freedom of passage. While the House of Orien remained neutral, providing its services to all, civilian passengers travelling from the borderlands were forbidden to bring weapons on the train. A bit of brainstorming, and the fighters came up with the idea of hiring themselves out as guards for a freight shipment. This would hopefully give them an excuse to carry arms, and maybe even a bit of extra gold.
For now, with purses flush, Blade and Blacklight went shopping. Over the last few weeks, Blacklight had sorely missed having a ranged weapon, and was now committed to getting the best bow Marketplace could offer. After a bit of rummaging through the assorted wares, they found a weapon truly fit for a Wood Elf, a marvelous composite bow. Blade's jealousy almost got the better of him, but he regained enough control to buy a slightly lesser one - though still quite impressive. The fighters also augmented their armour, and resupplied their rations. Still, something was on their mind.
With the loss of Sikomor, the significantly reduced adventuring party had no healing facilities with them - and no time to train in the medicinal arts. The word on the street spoke of someone who could help them, the town witch, who kept a modest store of magical baubles.
The witch had just the item to offer them: a large pot of powerful healing salve, something that would surely last them a while. But she was not willing to part with it for a coin and a thank you. The witch had an agenda of her own, something that a couple of strong men proficient in combat could certainly help with.
As it turned out, the local merchants had become somewhat disillusioned with the market chief. Blade and Blacklight cared little for motivation; there was a man in town who needed killin', and they had a day or two to spare. The witch suggested that before they went after the head, they could make an effort to thin the ranks of his goons somewhat. Even with a mass of Thranean soldiers passing through the town on their way to the front line, the chief's gang was a formidable force. When the witch offered the adventurers a way to knock some heads, and maybe make some serious money in the process, they could hardly refuse.
Marketplace was a dreary little frontier settlement, and its entertainment was skewed to the simplistic side. The biggest game in town was the Knuckle Ring, a tournament of roughnecks with a betting pool attached. After checking out the action in the scope of an afternoon, Blade and Blacklight were ready to get down to business, with the help of a few of the witch's special potions. Passing through the first few rounds with ease, they found that only the last two opposing teams were any sort of match for them at all.
To the roaring approval of the crowd, they first dispatched an old man and a local musclebound type with relative ease. Tensions were running high, and the last battle was to the death. Faced with a lightfooted ninja and a robust troll, the adventurers had to use all their skill. The startled crowd barely believed their eyes, knowing that the implausible techniques displayed by the opponents would be the subject of heated debate in Marketplace's inns for months to come. Finally Blade and Blacklight prevailed, and with the top fighters in the chief's gang eliminated, they were ready to collect their winnings and proceed with the next phase.
Most of the goons were holed up in their barracks, waiting for dinner. With a choice poison from the witch's stock in his grasp, Blacklight applied his ranger instincts to quietly crawl through the kitchen window. After making sure that the broth still looks and smells edible (and in fact far improving those qualities from the original state), the Wood Elf was about to leave, when an unfortunate trip alerted the men to his presense. Blacklight was forced to act his way out of trouble, pretending to be a poor beggar who was just trying to steal a bit of bread and soup to feed his family. The goons of a rank hole such as Marketplace were apparently far too stupid to wonder why the beggar was an elf with battle armor poorly concealed by a worn, but still good traveller's outfit.
Having despatched the goons, it was time for Blade and Blacklight to take care of the market chief. The two combat masters attacked the two-storey stone house with a flurry of carnage, working their way through half a dozen armed men before finally finding the chief, now protected by a single crossbowman, in his nightgown. Blade was feeling particularly humanitarian that night, refusing to kill a sleeping drunkard in one of the rooms; however, this did not preclude him from eliminating the rest of the opponents. Chasing the market chief down a crawlspace and into the first-floor storage room, they found not only a dead man, but also a slew of goods of various value. The chief's exotic ringmail, additional protection wearable under regular armor, and a bundle of precious cloth were the only things the adventurers chose to take. But their day was not yet over: on their way out the door, they were greeted by half a dozen Thranean soldiers.
The fight with the soldiers was difficult, with Blacklight even forced to dig into his cache of health food (the acorns from the Tree of Life), but by using a doorway as a choke point and Blacklight's spiked chain as an excellent tripping tool, they were able to defeat the foes. Their last murder of the day happened when they were leaving the building. As they heard a witness scuttle away from the door, it was an excellent opportunity for Blacklight to test out his new toy. The composite bow fired true, and Blade made another mark in his little black book as the adventurers headed back to the witch's place for their just reward and some much-needed healing.
A day's rest and some cooperation from the locals the tiny party had to pay their own bribes to get on the Lightning Rail as a merchant's guards, and the train would not take them all the way to Sharn, but it was good enough.
A human spear-merchant called Regerik would take them to a goblin-controlled railroad crossing between Hatheril and Dragons Crown, from where the party would have to venture on by themselves. The Regerik's own teams consisted of 8 short, scrawny and dirty warforged, who didn't look built for war.
Despite getting a nice chuckle out of the hastily printed poster graphically depicting the carnage of the previous night to illiterate townsfolk, the fighters felt that Marketplace had nothing more to offer them. Unfortunately the next train would leave no earlier than 10 days later and the party had no other choice than to seek lodging. Since they had to lie low for the next days,
it made sense to find as inconspicuous a place as possible, and indeed, soon they found a small
clay hut whose owner, a friendly-looking old hag called Minna, was gladly willing to lodge them for ten days, at the cost of 1GP per day. The fighters and their llama settled in for what would be a long and hopefully boring wait.
It was the morning of September 22nd.
Maryo, Sikomor and Bolander head North and Lachlan South. Blade & Blacklight remain in the town to catch a lightning rail that would eventually allow them to reach the city of Sharn in far South-West (not on this map).
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