Session 8

Day 3 - Sarpadian Family Farmhouse --> Alliance Camp

We quietly left the basement, which was apparently accessed from a living room through a hidden door. Light shone from the east onto a longhall with a cold hearth at one end. I think all of us were in a daze, since we were - as far as I know - outside Montbelliard for the first time; outside the cold stare of the Siphon. As such, we stood there, caveblind, until a gang of elves, humans, tiefling, and an eladrin cornered us. They tried to arrest us in the name of the Alliance and insisted we surrender our weapons. I gave up a few of my less balanced daggers (I rarely use those ones anyway), and followed them on horseback to a large encampment.

Onu refused to give up her weapons and stayed behind. At the camp, we entered a tent. A few moments later, Onu, bound and slumped over a horse, arrived to meet us. We ate a not unpleasant meal of field rations, then a halfling burrowed his way into our tent. He called himself Middlebrooks, and offered to play Dragon’s Bluff. He had no idea how outmatched he was. We played for gold and for information.

Middlebrooks told us that King Alafas was alive (!) and leading this Alliance army. He told us of many city-states who were pushed into the ocean by Saraquin, and that they re-allied and began conquering along the Magnamus River. Heading upriver, they overtook Baelin and Salamanca. Salamanca, like Montbelliard, was infested by gnolls, but an angel appeared to the army there, boosting their morale as only a sign from above can do. They call the angel “the Saint”. When they laid siege to Montbelliard, the angel’s wings were clipped. I shall have to ask what he meant by this. I did see it flying high against the demon defending our city.

The halfling was interested in a list of names, He showed the list to Antioch, who identified the following:

Alfgerson, a dwarf curator and fence who lives in the Roost Styrk, a human, large viking type, security guard in Angel Square and beileved to be a member of the Benetatis. Rosanne Flocke, a human woman in her 50’s, profession: bricklayer, but she’s rumored to be royalty.

I will write more on these names after I have had time to peruse them at greater length.

The lad Antioch won quite a number of my chips in that accursed game. I will be sure to make this right next time we sleep.



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