Lands of Brixia

Zut Alors! (session 1 through the eyes of Savoir Joler)

Once again the rotting dogs of the Unseen Hand were up to their old tricks. When I spotted the “loudmouth”, I thought it would be best to follow him and observe his activities.

I used my powerful magics to become completely invisible and followed him into an inn called ‘The Sleeping Dragon’. Inside was a hodgepodge group consisting of a well dressed nobleman, his male entertainer, a rather coarse mannered Elven woman and another girl of the North, who was very much built like a Northern girl. Of the lot I’d say she was the scariest, with a Blacksmith’s arms and legs like those of a draft mule.

When I saw the loudmouth signalling his posse of hired halfwits, I thought it best to allow myself to be seen and warn the group, as any enemy of the Unseen Hand is a friend of mine. I might add that the Northwoman ate the entire time I was there.

When the loudmouth’s troop of nincompoops came in, we were sitting about. The loudmouth demanded 500 silver to allow us to put our friend on a boat. We decided to ignore him for the time being and work on obtaining a writ of entry with which we could pass the gate.

I just so happened to know a master counterfeiter, so the bulk of us went to see him. The horselike Northwoman ordered another plate of meat and sat back down in the inn.

In the eyes of the Law. As seen by Sir Maysor Loreth.

“Although the caravan ride here was not long it was a most unpleasant experience. The dust of the road seemed to cling to me like a second skin even though I spent most of my time in the covered wagon. I was relieved however to see the city which was so full of activity and has such magnificent vessels. Not to mention there should be a bath house I may attend with due haste. Alas that had to be put on hold as duty dictates that I wait in this low rent establishment for a courier to deliver a message to me. I will be most grateful when I can return to my proper station but for now I must endure these indignities. My courier arrives, although a bit late he is most courteous for what looks to be a desert nomad. As I read the note I am beset by two women who apparently have no where to sit. Although they are far from the courtly women I am use to, I would be rude not to allow them to join me. However had I known that would be an invitation to a young street urchin and a rather large specimen of a female warrior, I wouldn’t have invited the first two. To make matters worse we all were threatened by some local thugs. It is a shame that the local guards here are unable to provide a proper show of force, letting these hoodlums run uncontested. When I arrive at my destination I will let the local authorities know about the foul goings on in this part of the city.”

Respectfully your son, Maysor.


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