The Winding Road: The Ambush

by Frank Gori

Dab tried to stay alert this time.

It had been a rough week of ambushes and assassination attempts just trying to acquire the necessary supplies for their journey. Bellany and Zool called the assassins The Tradesmen. They were great at blending in, striking, and fleeing, causing the caravan damage in their wake.

Dab was learning that the great guilds of Hub were more interconnected then one might otherwise perceive. While the Merchant's Guild itself was supplying the majority of the personnel and physical goods for the journey, Malleck still needed various jobs performed by the Workman's Guild, tools from the Blacksmith Guild, and the Mage's Guild was for the most part necessary for magical supplies to ease the road.

One moment a group of roofers were working on a building across the street, then the next they were shooting at you with poisoned crossbow bolts. Malleck tried sending intermediaries unaffiliated with the caravan, but The Tradesmen always struck anyway. Malleck tried disguising people, again the Tradesmen struck. They targeted anyone going on or helping with the expedition and Dab had yet to spot one before they struck.

Clearly the Merchant's Guild had spies within, but that was hardly Dab’s department. He was guarding this transaction which was the only thing that somewhat worked. Malleck was resolved that if the Tradesmen would not cease the attempts to harm the caravan then they’d pay a blood price for every attempt. Even expecting trouble the bastards were hard to spot.

By the time it was sorted out who needed killing, most Tradesmen ran. They used smoke sticks, flash powder, and caltrops but still Dab usually got a hold of one. The Tradesmen always worked in a group multiples of four, or quads (which apparently was the term even when there was sixteen of them.) Losses didn’t seem to daunt them, despite having traded an equal number of lives from their ranks to the losses they inflicted the kept coming. It was a bloody week roughly two dozen people didn’t see the end of and Dab was getting weary of it.

Mal, Zool, Bellany, and Snook were the only reliable spotters they had. Everyone was on alert, but being alert didn’t seem to be enough. 

Despite his resolve, Dab found himself reflecting on Laz. Laz seemed preoccupied and edgy lately. Perhaps understandable given the circumstances, but there was something akin to the skinny boy that helped him stand up to the street toughs despite clearly being terrified. Laz was the kind of guy that threw his best punches when he was scared to and if Laz was scared there was good reason to be…

An arrow interrupted Dab’s thoughts, “Dammit,” he said aloud in exasperation. The carpenter with the arrow perforating his throat was the obvious target, which Dab found himself charging. This time he took a moment to focus and noticed a customer in the grocer stand not very far behind the carpenter reaching into a canvas bag. The customer was too calm in the face of violence, Dab squared his shoulders and lowered himself further in the run.               

In the last second he pulled wide of the carpenter and pushed with all his bulk and muscle. The shopper had raised a crossbow out of the bag and lined it to someone in the caravan.

“Not this time,” the carpenter flew into the field of fire just as the bolt flew clear of the crossbar. If the carpenter survived Bellany’s shot, he’d likely not survive this one. Dab made eye contact with the crossbow woman just as a stream of Marta’s energy bolts twisted around the obstacles of the grocer stand and slammed into the would be assassin.

Dab followed that up with a throwing axe, before turning around to see who was next. A gardener had an arrow through his eye and some attention was further ahead of the wagon at some fleeing foe making it four.

Dab’s eyes swept back to the caravan, one of Zool’s Blacksmith’s had a bolt in his buckler. That made this attack three of them for none of theirs, perhaps the next Quad would think twice.

The scuff of boot on cobblestone to his left was Dab’s only warning. On instinct he punched out to his right before dropping into a roll to his left. His fist connected and he managed to trip his other attacker into a tangle with the first. They set up in his flanks invisible, likely from a potion or some dust.

Dab managed to get back to his feet before his attackers which afforded him a few seconds to scan the area and get a lay for the battlefield. Aside from the two, the shopkeeper held a wand over the not quite dead crossbowman and she had already apparently used it on the carpenter who was downing a potion and had already retrieved his weapon. The five on one would for a short time wouldn’t be so bad, but a glance over at the supply wagons now shrouded in mist, indicated a caster focused on cutting off reinforcements.

They used magical resources to isolate him and get the advantage of first strike. They counted on that being enough, they counted on taking him down, but they didn’t count on a loose cobblestone ruining their stealth. That was their mistake.

Dab touched his new ring and said the command word that would make his skin stone hard and enhance his already impressive ability to take a beating. In all likelihood they assumed they had the advantage with numbers, the reality was they were outnumbered and attrition favored Dab. Laz would be annoyed he used the charge up already but being captured or killed was probably worse. It also made his priority to take down the casters as the other four would have a hard time damaging him.

Dab ran at the shopkeeper first. Barreling past his assailants allowed them to take swings on him and were he not protected he’d have paid a blood price. As it was the minotaur barely felt the blows. A crossbow bolt bounced off his chest before he closed on the wand wielding shopkeeper who now had a blue disk of energy in front of him.

Dab let go. Let go of the dozens of half remembered beatings in the course of a battered life, let go of the frustrations of a lost career, let go of the anger of being separated from his only childhood friend, let go of being tortured. He let all of that go in a raging flurry.

When the fog cleared a few moments later they found Dab covered in blood on his knees. Five foes lied broken and dead.

The Winding Road: Careful

By Frank Gori

It had been a long morning. It was Malleck’s third recounting of the previous evening’s events before he snapped. Liara called him in first thing in the morning and she interrogated him herself. She had everyone separated and would make everyone else would go through the events three times. He would go through them until he broke and Liara understood exactly how to do so. It reminded Malleck of his lessons growing up.

As wards of the guild, the orphans had been walked through a room and asked to recount everything they saw. Details were important, as they told truths which were otherwise concealed. The children who had performed the best were rewarded with easier chores or more allowance.

Those who excelled at the challenges graduated to being assigned longer conversations and advanced observation and analysis. They learned to read people. Malleck was also a trained in deception, intimidation, linguistics and in the art of engineering. He understood the world around him with the finest education available.

Liara was a precise woman, and she took in every detail when someone spoke in her presence. Every pause, every tonal shift, every body language cue spoke volumes to her. Each telling of the story provided more information. Malleck was a talented liar, but that was partly why the repetition was so critical. It was hard enough to lie to Liara once; three times was a gauntlet.

Liara’s wards went from destitution to the best of everything. Those that could keep up were given increasingly difficult lessons and responsibilities. Regardless of success or failure they were all still Liara’s children, but Malleck didn’t want that. Malleck was no child, each test made him stronger, he was determined to make Liara proud, to be seen as an equal.

To Malleck every smile told a story. Liara seemed to have a thousand different smiles, but Malleck felt she reserved one just for him. The first run through of the evening’s events her smile told him she was being supportive but concerned, the second telling her smile was the one she wore when she was plotting something, this time she wore a smile that told him he was going to be tested soon.

She liked to ask questions after the first walk thru. She used a raven awakened and endowed with telepathy on her other guests, partly to unnerve them. For Malleck she whispered in his ear. It was intimate and awkward for Malleck.

Liara always looked the same, like a fresh lovely young maiden. Her beauty hung on a razor’s edge of being ripened. Her look fell short of the self assured confidence of a matured beauty, instead she seemed unspoiled like a spring meadow untouched. It made it easy for fools to underestimate her.

Those soft full lips whispering in his ear sent a shiver down his spine. Her impossibly delicate hands touched his shoulder when she spoke in a gesture of comfort. It created a sexual tension that was spoiled by maternal memories, and it was entirely on purpose.

“After Zool deflected the bolt, five men with blue hatchets rose and drew their weapons. I looked for the exits and spotted Lazeron coming in. At the time I thought him the Chaos Man.

My eyes swept the room for the crossbowman and I saw him calmly reloading his weapon on the far side of the bar. Human, dark hair brown eyes.

Someone shouted, “Shenanigans” and the voice was masculine and deep, likely from an ogre or minotaur. It was loud and high in the room, I couldn’t place the voice to a spot were someone stood. I suspect ventriloquism.

Everyone else seemed to pause in that moment except for us and the strike team sent for us. Our waitress Bellanie tripped in such a way that tied up three of the four intended attackers.”

“That sounds rather convenient.” She distrusted Bellany’s presence and motives. Malleck could understand that position, he suspected the girl was either Music Guild or some kind of professional cutter and possibly both.

“An ally with a sense of timing is a treasure indeed.”

Liara nodded to concede the point. It was a merchant guild proverb, one she likely authored.

“Zool seized the moment to close the ground by leaping upon a table and stabbing the one man not tied up.

The crowd seemed about to rush the entrance which Lazeron discouraged with a fireball.

Bellany lit one of the four men on fire and I used magic to improve my aim before firing on the crossbowman.”

“What of your training? Why did you not see this coming?” Liara may as well have stabbed him. Malleck couldn’t stand disappointing her, and the quite true reasons felt like empty excuses in that moment.

A silence hung between the elf and the bad blood, but their body language betrayed a litany of emotions. She was genuinely surprised at his lack of vigilance, his shame quickened to anger for a moment as his mind raced through it all. The bar was crowded with nearly two hundred men and a third wore the blue axes. Liara waited as Malleck thought it through to the logical conclusion.

“I wasn’t the main target, I was a secondary target.”

Liara nodded for Malleck to continue.

“Whoever this was, they hired a bunch of men and got them to stuff that bar for the meet. That means either we have a leak or the Mage Guild does. Lazeron was the main target though, the majority of cutters went after him, tried to get him flanked. We actually got lucky on those five jumping the gun, had they not…”

“They would have killed Lazeron, and managed to flank you instead. They’d have separated you from Zool and cut you down.”

“Got to be a new player in town, one with coin to burn and likely they were the ones that set the fire. They failed to kill Lazeron but still managed to make the Mage Guild look bad and probably are using the damage to recruit more in the labor guild.”

“You see what must happen, my darling boy.”

Malleck did, his vision blurred a second as he realized what it meant.

“Careful what you wish for.”

The Winding Road: Caravanner Malleck

by Frank Gori

The Sawhorse Tavern was crowded tonight. The Workmen’sGuild had a meeting, so it wasn't just A-shift stragglers and B-shift regulars; the whole guild was out tonight. The place reeked of sawdust, sweat, and sour beer. More than a few eyes found Malleck, despite his hooded cloak and shadowy corner booth.  This made him uncomfortable. The Chaos Man chose this venue for that very effect, to throw Malleck off balance.

There was a buzz of agitation in the room. The workmen were riled up about something, so it was a dangerous night to be an outsider in one of their establishments. Had Malleck been meeting another, he would have simply veiled himself with magic. The Chaos Man, however, would be offended if he did, and Malleck would rather not wait another three months for a meeting.

A group of young orcish apprentice carpenters belonging to one of the more radical sub-guilds kept sizing Malleck up with quick glances. Sooner or later, one might get drunk, call him Tu’rid, and mockingly challenge him. The Workmen’s Guild made it easy to read a member’s affiliations by a quick glance to the tool belts they all wore. The white leather belts told him they were apprentices, the painted red hammer worn on the left hip loop their profession and sub-guild, but the blue-handled hatchet was a newer insignia tool he didn't recognize.

The story of Malleck’s mixed blood was there to read in his face. His tusks indicated orc blood, but the small size and lack of under-bite revealed that he was not a full blood. His surname, “Smallbite”, was given to half-orcish bastards for this very reason. The elegantly pointed ears and the slightly-canted, severely green eyes both indicated elvish blood, which was always the problem. Kindred races were generally blasé of racial intermingling, except of course for the stigma associated with badbloods. To the ignorant and intolerant, his very face was an insult to the Nameless One, who died of treachery at the hands of his brother Mar’ies - the first elf.  From the Nameless One’s body were born theKindred.

This dive could be trouble for Malleck, which is why he brought a Sunder. The Blacksmiths Guild hired out mercenary bodyguards, called Sunders, to the Merchants' Guild all the time. Malleck always hired the same one: a lizard man named Zool. Malleck had never seen Zool’s wares as a smith, but the man was a virtuoso with his strange array of scimitar, spiked buckler (which he strapped to his sword arm), hand crossbow, and what Malleck suspected was a dash of magic. Zool was giving the orcs a look that killed their curiosity, for the moment.

The Chaos Man was over an hour late again, making Mal wonder when he would arrive. What game the Chaos Man would play this time was the next question? No matter what face he wore (if indeed the Chaos Man was just one individual) there was always a game of some sort during their meetings. When he first wore the face of a horridly scarred minotaur, the game was questions: he would ignore each statement that wasn't a question, and only answer questions with another question. It was a terribly irritating way to negotiate, but the Caravanner didn't earn his position in the guild by lacking the ability to adapt. On the second meeting, the Chaos Man was a Dwarf with mismatched eyes who wished to play an elaborate version of stones that required drinking. Though the Chaos Man never appeared to be the same person, he always remembered prior conversations and business, always played games, and was always late.

Theories in Mal's files back at the guild varied widely. Some said he was one man who wore a thousand faces.  Others insisted that the Chaos Man was actually just a title, a position that was in a near constant state of flux. Whoever he was, he always maintained the deadly sort of confidence that comes from the power to kill. As long as Malleck could get the deal he came to make, he didn't care who he was dealing with.

Despite the passage of centuries, there were outlying villages close to the frozen heart of the North that still maintained loyalty to the Empire. Reputedly one, Tribute, had ore so fine and pure that the Blacksmiths Guild would pay triple per shipment. If the Caravanner could establish a route, he’d likely be elevated; such discoveries and dealings made careers within the Merchants' Guild. Most importantly, Liara would be proud of him.

Liara rarely showed emotion, but Malleck believed she held a mother’s love for the adopted orphans she took into the guild. Behind her whispered orders and small tight smiles was a woman that cared deeply for once discarded-children. She herself was discarded, in a way. She adopted from the orphanages frequently, and many of her orphans rose high in the guild. While more cynical minds might think she adopted and raised orphans to ensure the guild's upper ranks were filled with the fiercely loyal, others said she saw something special in each adoptee. Malleck chose to regard Liara as his true mother, as opposed to the woman that left him on the steps of an orphanage without so much as a note. To Malleck the guild was family, and family was everything.

To make his family proud, Malleck needed the deal to go through. Liara would not risk a caravan north unless Malleck could secure additional security from the Mages' Guild. Trading with the loyalist mining town was a risk, but the potential reward was high.  The journey was perilous, particularly if the frozen elves decided to attack. Fire magic could serve as a deterrent, but...

The ring of a crossbow bolt striking the rapidly drawn blade of Zool less than half a foot from his face reminded Malleck of Liara’s 12th rule: “Never disregard the present situation.” Someone screamed “Shenanigans,” and the whole bar erupted into chaos. Except, of course, for the group of five orcs who were calmly approaching with naked steel.

Merchant's Guild: An Overview

By Dominic Ford

Liara Rosetongue, Guild Leader of the Merchants, has designed her operation to be flexible, utilitarian, and provide as much profit as possible to each of its members. She rules with an iron fist and silky whispers, and few things in Hub are more feared than the idea of your name sliding off her tongue. Her followers are fanatically loyal, however, and rarely have anything to fear from the most powerful Elf since the demise of the Empire. 

The Merchants have a Direct Hierarchy, which forms the backbone of the system. Even here, however, the individual members are strongly encouraged to think for themselves, to creatively pursue their objectives, and to accept success and failure both as learning opportunities. Liara has been known to personally intervene and promote individuals up the hierarchy if she feels they possess unique attributes and have been overlooked. The Direct Hierarchy is composed of these five positions (alternate names indicate type, rather than rank):

• ·        Grand Ambassador (Also Grand Caravanner and Grand Admiral) - Responsible for a Grand Fleet, a Grand Caravan, or a Foreign Establishment

• ·        Ambassador (Also Caravanner and Admiral) - Responsible for a Fleet, a Caravan, or an Establishment

• ·         Keeper (Also Merchant and Captain) - Responsible for an individual shop, wagon, or ship.

• ·         Guards (Also Defender and Marine) - Responsible for the safekeeping of their charge.

• ·         Laborer (Also Worker and Sailor) - Responsible for physical duties, including ship operations, loading and unloading cargoes, and generally doing as they have been asked.

In addition to the Direct Hierarchy, the Merchants also have three Flexible positions, which form the various arms of the Guild. These individuals sit outside of the traditional hierarchy as they could serve under any one of them, or under Liara herself. Typically they serve directly under the highest ranking individual in their current location, whoever that may be. Often, they work alone, and they are almost always above Laborers and Guards. There are three general positions, although these have rank structures of their own:

• ·        Master - Responsible for the animals, particularly Horses and Oxen, but there is at least one Master for any animal in Merchant Guild possession. If the Master demands a Grand Caravan be stopped in order to water the Horses, even a Grand Ambassador must listen. They put the needs of the animals under their care before their own. While the position may seem menial, Masters are afforded great prestige, as the entire organization depends on the animals in their care.

• ·        Dancer - Responsible for the defense of the Guild as a whole, Dancers are more than simple guards - they are trained in the Great Dance. Although there are a wide variety of Dancers, the most common are Sword Dancers, who specialize in traditional combat, Lance Dancers, specializing in Cavalry, and Shield Dancers, who actually specialize in defending against Magic users. No Caravan departs without at least a few Dancers, who coordinate the Guards and take control of the entire Caravan if a military emergency emerges. Shield Dancers have a strong tendency to cause friction with the Mage's Guild, as they tend to take a no-nonsense approach to the magic addicted chaos masters.

• ·        Artisan - An Artisan can come from any background, as long as they are particularly dedicated to perfecting their craft. Classic art, particularly sculpting, is emphasized, but Artisans specialize in most forms of art and finely crafted luxury goods. The uniting ideology behind the Artisans is that they are working toward perfection, and selling special goods and art across Desylinn. Even the Dwarves are beginning to recognize the quality work coming from the Artisan Merchants. This portion of the Merchants Guild has been growing the most rapidly in recent years.

Finally, there are two secret organizations within the Merchants Guild. The public is universally ignorant of these groups, and most Guild members are unaware. These groups run clandestine operations and reports go directly to Liara. Small, tight units ensure loyalty and prevent infiltration, even by the Music Guild. Liara employs these secret groups to gather the two things she needs most - useful secrets and useful individuals:

• ·        The Seekers - this group specializes in finding special individuals across Desylinn that can serve the Guild, testing them, and bringing them into the Guild. The most common positions they recruit for are Artisans and Dancers, although they find people for every position in the Direct Hierarchy as well. Not content to simply offer jobs, they usually resort to secretive tests for potential recruits, including posing as clients, burning down nearly completed projects, and seeking apprenticeships. Only if the candidate passes are they approached about the Guild.

• ·        The Whispers - little is known of this group, save that they serve the Master of Whispers as her eyes, ears, mouthpiece, hands, blades, songs, coins, and more.

The Merchants are a force of stability in the chaos-riddled madness of Hub, embracing flexibility and encouraging both ambition and altruism. Not everyone in Hub shares their vision, and the Merchant's relations with the other guilds range from carefully manufactured agreements to hidden hostilities. They tend to get along best with the Blacksmith's, as they agreed not to poach Smiths and in exchange spread valuable items across Desylinn. With the Mages, relations vary from day to day, depending on who has power within their chaotic organization. The Workman's Guild and the Merchants once had a terrible relationship, with Artisan's pulled from the Workman's. This led to one of the worst riots in the Hub's history, prompting Liara to alter her approach to the volatile democratic guild. Now the Merchants acquire the best goods for sale, typically without significant haggling, and the Seekers avoid poaching from the Workman's Guild. Liara sees the Musicians as an abomination, and has her Whispers waging a secret war to have them eliminated - or at least removed from their prestigious position as one of the Five Guilds.

Secrets of Desylinn: Liara Rosetongue

by Dominic Ford

Entering the dark room, Machi’s heart pounded, filled with dread. Although the market this morning had been one long catastrophic event, he couldn’t believe it had warranted a meeting with the renowned Lady of Whispers. A lamp in the corner flickered to life, and his heart skipped. He had expected a hag, but this woman was so far from that. His tongue dried in his mouth. Her elegant face, unmarred by the slender scar covering her Imperial origins, was smiling. Her neck, decorated with a delicate rose tattoo, led his eyes to her silvery gown, which however modest couldn’t hide the woman’s majestic beauty. Machi swallowed hard and forced his eyes upward, looking into her inviting green eyes. She began to whisper.

Although born into the frozen Elven Empire, Liara had her heart warmed at a young age by the life and music of the Transcendent BjordHalf-foot. Instead of embracing the cold, Liara turned to music. Liara was among the first to scar herself rather than continue to carry Kady’s Kiss, the mark left on all Elves upon the death of Empress Arcadia. Her fame as a Bard spread beyond Hub, and her tours took her across Desylinn, from the Kindred’s tents and the Gren's Wagons to the Dwarves' distant forgehalls. Her career took an abrupt turn when a jealous performer snuck into her home one night and slit her throat. Luck, or the Transcendent Bjord’s blessing, was with her, and she survived the devastating injury.

Left with an ugly scar on her throat, her was voice utterly destroyed. Liara turned her back on her career, her magics, and her previous life. She took a vow of silence and maintained it for over a decade. Seeking understanding of the nature of the Gods, of life in Desylinn, and a new purpose for herself, she searched within for answers. The first answer she found in Transcendent Bjord’s second teaching, Altruism. A servant in the Temple of the Five, she became a silent bringer of hope, dedicated to alleviating the endless suffering of the world. One day, deep in meditation, inspiration struck. She rose, collected her wages, and left the temple. She went straight to a tattoo artist, and whispered the design for her rose into his ear.

Her new life bloomed with the rose. She took her money and invested in small shops, independent merchants, and desperate yet skilled craftsmen. Slowly these investments expanded and grew, and with them so did her influence. The small shops grew into flourishing businesses, the merchants into significant caravanners, and the lowly craftsmen advanced as masters of their respective arts. Finally, the collected organization began to fray, too large and unwieldy for any individual to manage, and Liara knew that a change had to happen at once. She petitioned the Council for official status and her organization became the Merchant’s Guild.

Within the Merchant’s Guild, Liara’s word is final. She has advisors and bodyguards, but once she whispers instructions they are carried out immediately, to the best understanding and ability of her followers. She considers her people to be a powerful machine, and modeled it after Transcendent Bjord Half-foot’s famed artifact, the Voice of the Changeling. She trains her people to be perpetually flexible, and empowers them to make decisions in the moment, from the bottom level up to the highest caravanners. Her organization stretches almost as far as her fame once did, and few dare cross the Merchants for fear of bringing a single whisper against them.

Liara has not allowed this power to go to her head, however. She spends her time praying and meditating, trusting her followers to do as she has asked. She never forgets the second half of Transcendent Bjord’s teachings, and instills the value of Altruism into her entire organization. She demands loyalty, trust and honor, and in return ensures full wages, adequate reward and proper punishment for any in the Merchant’s Guild. In spite of this, her understanding of both business and mortal weakness ensure that she is increasingly profitable. She passes most of this back to the Guild, and the rest to the Temple of the Five, choosing a life of humble honor for herself.