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.

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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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