Sunset: 1755
- No Greyhawk Events today
K & K Get Recruited
15 February
Early one afternoon, Dainel arrives at the barracks and rousts Kinnaka and Kentaro out of the warmth of the long, narrow cabin that serves as their barracks, telling them to dress warmly. He is none too gentle in his approach, drawing looks of ire from both. Once they get outside, he informs them that they have an appointment with the Baronet of Olmarr. The two look blankly at each other and then at Dainel, at which point their boss explodes, “He bleedin’ runs th’ Province, don’t he?” At their continued blank looks, Dainel seethes, “Get a fuckin’ move on”, and 10 minutes later the three are riding north at a fast trot toward Fort Lehman through a light snow flurry.
They ride for a time nearly silently, the only noise apart from the clip clopping of the horses’ hooves being Dainel’s incessant off-key humming, sounding more like an angry wasp than music. Making a supreme effort, Kinnaka manages to tune it out, but Kentaro cannot. To quiet the noise, despite the fact that Dainel hates to indulge in unnecessary conversation with the hired help, he ventures a question.
Kentaro:
Dainel…what’s this Baronet want wit me anyway?
Dainel breaks off humming, and stares briefly at Kentaro. The sudden silence elicits a quiet sigh of relief from Kinnaka, who stares fixedly into the forest, refusing to make eye contact with the odious man.
Dainel:
How th’ fuck do I know? He wants ye. That’s good enough fer th’ likes o’ you, right?
Kentaro:
Well I suppose so.
Dainel:
Damn right it is. [Then, to Kinnaka] How ‘bout you, elf? You got somethin’ to say?
Kentaro:
No reason ta bother im now. I was jus curious.
Kinnaka says nothing , continues to stare off into the woods, and shakes his head no.
Dainel:
That’s good. That’s real good. When yer dealin’ with yer betters, ye gotta keep mum, got it? [Kinnaka’s eyes flare, but he says nothing.] Jess leave th’ talkin’ to me and ye’ll do well. I’m good with royalty, see.
Kinnaka continues to remain silent, declining to point out to his boss that being a Baronet does not make one royal. Kentaro shakes his head and sighs. Dainel laughs, though the sound carries no humor at all, then resumes his humming. And just like that, the temporary respite from the hideous whining noise is over.
A little less than two hours later, they reach the walls of Fort Lehman, the County’s fourth largest city, distantly behind Greyhawk City and Hardby, but with only slightly fewer people than Elmshire. The town is located at the top of a steep hill, not the tallest in the area, but tall enough to provide a good view to the north, south, and west. Inside the walls, a flurry of construction activity is evident, as carpenters, stone masons, glaziers, and others work diligently to turn Fort Lehman into Olmarr Keep, which as one of the County’s four new Provincial capitals will one day house most of Olmarr’s most vital administrative functions.
Dainel leads the two huge men to the main walled enclosure and find the main door standing wide open and unguarded. Passing through, they enter the main courtyard and wend their way through stacks and piles of lumber, stone, sand, and other construction materials toward a large tower barely visible beneath a mass of scaffolding and waterproof sheets. Their goal is a pair of ancient, heavily scarred and studded oaken double doors.
Before Dainel can grab the huge knocker, the door swings open and they are greeted by a page who takes their names and leads them not toward the grand hall, which is visible through a door to the right, but straight ahead, past several sitting rooms to a large dining room that is currently being used as an impromptu conference room rather than for other than its intended function. Four richly dressed men are gathered around the gleaming mahogany table poring over a set of blueprints. Three of them are middle-aged. The other is a heavily muscled man of average height and youthful looks. One of the three older men is speaking, but the way the younger man carries himself is sufficient to clearly identify the younger man as the one in charge.
The page pauses at the door and announces Dainel, Kinnaka, and Kentaro. Sir Miles nods, waves the page away, and tells the three other men with him, “Go get supper. Return in half an hour.” The men roll up the blueprints, bow, and depart the room with a gloomy air.
Dainel bows, but before he can get started on his well-rehearsed formal greeting, Sir Miles interrupts him:
Gentlemen, here’s the situation. A local dignitary was murdered this morning. The killers rode into the Duchy of Urnst, and we need someone not formally associated with the County to find them and bring them back. [He looks pointedly at Kentaro and Kinnaka.] You two were recommended for this task because you have earned a reputation amongst the goon squads as being effective without resorting to undue violence. That is a vital skill to bring to bear on this task. … I’ll say this once, and only once. You cannot kill these men; you must bring them back alive. Success will beget long-term employment and great rewards. Failure will result in a return to the work Dainel hired you to do. [He rings a small bell, and a tall, slender man with long, white-blond hair enters and bows.] Tirask will answer any questions pertinent to the mission. You are dismissed.
Kinnaka deeply bows to Sir Miles:
Arigato. It wirr be done.
Noticing Kinnaka’s movement, Kentaro quickly does a short bow to Sir Miles, the turns to Tirask:
‘Lo Tirask. I’m Kentaro an this here is Kinnaka.
Tirask briefly looks aghast, but his face quickly resumes its carefully neutral pose. Dainel looks like he’d like nothing better than to slice both of his men into quarters. Sir Miles casually waves the entire group away and returns distractedly to his blueprints.
Tirask bows out of the room and leads the men back to one of the sitting rooms they passed on the way in. As they enter, he cursorily dismisses Dainel, which pleases both Kinnaka and Kentaro inordinately, but sends Dainel into an impotent fury. He goes blusters, and begins to argue, but Tirask has nothing more to say to him. Fuming, Dainel leaves the room. The blond man closes the door quietly behind him. Kinnaka smiles slightly, but then winces. He says nothing however; he mere turns his green almond eyes onto Tirask and waits for him to begin.
Kentaro, on the other hand, cannot resist throwing in a last mocking jibe:
Bye Dainel!
Tirask takes a moment to compose his face before continuing then invites the remaining two to sit. When they do, he informs them that 3 or 4 strangers (witness accounts vary) were hanging around the main square this morning around 10 bells. When Zarian, the town’s chief architect, entered the square they jumped him. He was unarmored, unescorted, and stood no chance against their maces and clubs. His death will set construction progress back several weeks until a suitable replacement can be found, fetched, and brought up to speed. The men jumped on horses and rode fast out of town heading east. The town guard gave chase, but as no town can realistically afford to be without its guard for long, they have standing orders to turn back at the border if they have not caught up with whomever they are pursuing. Unfortunately, in this case the criminals beat the guard to the border, so the guard returned without them. The Baronet has sent word to both County and Duchy authorities, but rather than sitting around waiting for an official response, he wants Kinnaka and Kintaro to find the killers and bring them back.
He then gives a cursory physical description of the killers as provided by the witnesses—the only details that seem to be relatively consistent are that one had wild red hair and a beard, one ran with a definite limp, and although she apparently did not participate in the actual attack, a fairly pretty, exceedingly skinny woman with long blonde hair rode with them, apparently of her own free will. Their clothing, arms, and armor were unremarkable, as were their horses, though two of the witnesses described a unique marking pattern on one horse: it was mostly white with a black cross on one of its shoulders.
He hands Kinnaka five gold dubloons as traveling money and an advance to purchase any gear they need. Tirask has the authority to approve funds for other purchases, but they will have to provide ample justification for them. He then pauses and asks the men if they have any questions.
Kinnaka:
Yes, I do. I am wondering … why zee men attacked…zee architec’?
Tirask looks chagrined:
I’m afraid we do not quite know. We know that Zarian had some gambling debts, though we don’t believe they are significant enough to warrant death. He had a woman or two in town, but we don’t know whether he was married. Jealousy? Perhaps. He was an important man. Rich, too, for that matter, but he wasn’t robbed. Oh, no. We assume the men were hired to kill him. That this was no random act.
Kentaro:
Oh. They left all his personal effects on im then eh?
Tirask:
Yes. They struck quickly and violently, then immediately fled. They left no written message, took nothing, and made no statement as they departed.
Kinnaka:
We know no detairs about men who attack architec’? Other zen physical… description.
Tirask:
They were strangers in town. We know they have been here just a day or two, but certainly not more.
Kentaro:
Do ya know who ‘is women were? Can ya point me in their direction?
Tirask:
To what end, master Kentaro? You have been engaged to bring the men back here, not investigate the killing.
Kinnaka:
You have artist … to draw … murderers?
Tirask looks momentarily taken aback:
We can have such brought in if you believe it will help. Naturally, we have also retained the witnesses’ names and addresses and can contact them if you desire it. But as the artists work, do the men not get farther away by the minute?
Kinnka:
It herps us not…to find men… but not know… who they are… because I not recognize them. Ar humans rook arike.
Kentaro:
He’s got a point ya know?
Kinnaka:
You have quick artist?
Tirask:
Very good master Kinnaka, master Kentaro. If the descriptions I have already provided will not suffice, I will have artists summoned and the witnesses brought forth. Are you comfortable waiting here, or would you rather be shown to a more comfortable location?
Kinnaka:
We wir wait were we wir not be in way of workers.
Tirask:
Very good. I will summon the artists and witnesses. I do not know whether they can be considered fast or not, but they will be as accurate as possible. Is there anything else you require while the requested persons are gathered? Have you eaten?
Kinnaka bows less deeply than before:
I would not troubre you further, but it rude to refuse your offer.
Tirask smiles knowingly:
Yes, of course. Very good, master Kinnaka. I shall have the servants fetch something from the kitchens.
Tirask departs, quietly closes the door behind him, and summons two pages. One he sends to the Chief Constable on duty with orders to fetch an artist and those who witnessed the Zarian’s murder. They are to report to the Orchid Sitting Room. The other has orders to head to the kitchens and bring some food to the guests. He himself returns to the dining room-cum-conference room, where he finds Sir Miles looking over a list of some sort.
Tirask:
Sir Miles?
Sir Miles:
Ah, Tirask. Are they off then?
Tirask:
No. Actually, they are in the Orchid Sitting Room awaiting supper.
Sir Miles:
Most interesting. And why would that be?
Tirask:
Master Kinnaka has requested the use of an artist and the witnesses.
Sir Miles raises one eyebrow:
For what purpose?
Tirask:
I’m not exactly sure. I feel they are simply wasting time, but I will return to clarify the point.
Sir Miles:
Tirask, you should not be so quick to judge. But just in case, please ensure that they are aware of just how highly I would value a quick, successful completion of this mission.
Tirask:
Of course, Sir Miles. I shall return presently.
Back in the sitting room, Kinnaka and Kentaro have tucked into it tray of food and drink brought by a stout, older woman with a ready smile. They eat with all the gusto and capacity of two very large men, and are mostly finished before Tirask returns.
Tirask:
Ah, I see cook has provided refreshments. Very good. … Master Kinnaka, I have sent for the artist and witnesses. They should be arriving shortly. However, Sir Miles would like to know your reasons for your delay in getting underway, and desires that I make quite clear to you his extreme desire to have these men brought in with all possible speed.
Kinnaka:
Prease terr Sir Mires, we not deray. Cooking duck wizzout preparation read to fezzers in mouth. We not provided wiz good …um how you say? Good features of murders. Word rike to crarify…before reaving. Artis’ drawing worz many words. It no good reavin’ wizout good … understanding of how zey rook.
Tirask smiles wanly:
Excellent, master Kinnaka. I shall pass that message to the Baronet.
Tirask turns and leaves. Kinnaka isn’t positive, but he may have noticed the man shaking his head as he closed the door. The blond man returns again to Sir Miles.
Tirask:
Master Kinnaka, the elf, seems to think it would help matters if he had more precise portraits of the criminals. He’s wasting valuable time, Sir Miles.
Sir Miles:
Perhaps. On the other hand, there may be something in what Kinnaka is attempting. … I think we shall leave the giants to their own devices for now. Perhaps they shall surprise us. On the other hand, just in case they don’t, I want Carin’s team on this as well. [He glances out the window.] No one will get started before morning, however. Make sure our visitors have accommodations for the night.
Tirask:
Of course, Sir Miles. It shall be as you say.
While this conversation is going on, a servant has entered the Orchid Sitting Room and lit the candles and kindled a fire in the fireplace against the forthcoming night. As the servant leaves, a man arrives, shown in by the same page that so recently escorted in Kentaro and Kinnaka. That he is the artist is attested by the fact that he is carrying an easel, a small canvas, and has several brushes sticking out of pockets on his smock. He is also carrying a portmanteau case that is likely to contain his paints, etc.
Before the man can even introduce himself, Kinnaka jumps up:
No drawing, only artist? We need drawing. So, sorry, but we need drawing quickly. This takes too long.
Thran:
Huh? ‘Ey said ye wanted a artist. I’m a artist. Ye want drawin’ instead, I’ll draw fer ye. Whadya want drawin’?
He quickly sets up the easel, then places a small canvas on it and pulls some drawing pencils out of his bag.
Kinnaka [trying to hold his temper]:
This useress and too srow. I begin to sink he slowin’ us up. We should reave now. Artist useress now.
Thran:
Ye don’t want nothin’ drawin’?
Kentaro:
Wait a minute. Wait jus one minute.
Thran:
Ye want a drawin’ er not? If not, I got better things t’ do.
Kinnaka [raising his voice]:
Yes. Murderers drawn. He bring you not drawing. I want drawing of murderers.
Kentaro:
I think we should wait fer the witnesses doncha think Kinnaka?
Kinnaka:
Why, how they herp? They know where murdererd go or who they running to?
Kentaro:
Why they’ll help us get a visual picture o who we’re lookin fer. Besides, he’s already here he is. Why not wait?
Kinnaka sits agitatedly:
I wait.
At this point the door opens and Tirask comes in with two men and one woman:
Tirask:
The soldiers have brought the witneses, master Kinnaka.
Kentaro:
Er…a…‘Lo ladies. Nice ter meet ya. I’m Kentaro and this here is Kinnaka. We’d like to ask you some questions about tha murder ya saw the other night. Can on o ya start by tellin us wot happened?
The men and the woman simply stare at the huge man addressing them and say nothing. They look more amused than anything else, however, when the creature begins patting down his pockets absent-mindedly, eventually pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment and battered quill that looks tiny in his huge hand. They are surprised when he looks up expectantly, obviously fully prepared to write down what they say. After another moment’s pause, they start to talk, though the talk is more like babbling at this point.
Simon:
If ye mean this morning, why don’t ye say so? I don’t appreciate bein’ dragged away from me family at suppertime fer some lark.
Anders:
Simon, please. He wants to know what happened. I’m happy to help. I was in the main square this morning, doing some early morning shopping ye understand? These three goons…
Ursula:
Four, there was four.
Anders:
I only saw three, but please Ursula, let me continue. Anyway, these goons, however many there were, were hangin’ around, joking amongst themselves, but not really doing much. Not causing trouble, ye understand?
Simon:
Anders, get t’ th’ fuckin’ point er we’ll be here all night.
Kentaro stands to show his full size and raises his voice:
Now wait a minute all o ya. I need ya one at a time!
Simon:
Damn…
The woman just looks scared.
Kinnaka:
You, woman. Come. Tell artist what men rook rike. He draw them, QUICKRY, prease.
Kentaro:
Er…a…thanks Kinnaka. Simon, you come over here with me. I wanna ya ter tell me what happend wit out exaggeration.
For the next half hour, Kentaro interviews the three, while Thran does his best to draw portraits of five people based on the descriptions of the three witnesses. He has several false starts before Kinnaka gets him to understand exactly what he is looking for. When the elf judges him to be headed in the right direction, he contents himself with pacing before the fire. Tirask approaches him a few moments later.
Tirask:
Master Kinnaka, when you have accomplished what you can, pull that rope. A page will show you to your room. And now, I must excuse myself. I have other tasks to see to.
Kinnaka bows again:
Arigato. [Then he turns to the artist and raises his voice again.] We not start untir morning. That your deadrine Sran.
Simon:
No way I’m stayin’ all night so ‘e kin paint pictures! I got a business t’ run.
Tirask pauses at the door:
Simon, you shall stay until Sir Miles releases you. Is that clear?
Simon grumbles, but acquiesces. Tirask looks around the group, and seeing no further sign of dissension, departs, closing the door quietly behind him. Time passes. The artist works on. Figures and faces begin to take shape. Kentaro finishes his interviews, which result in approximately the same information as they already have.
Kinnaka is still pacing before the fire in agitation when Kentaro finishes the interviews and reports his findings, which don’t please Kinnaka all that much. Still, better to have confirmation. He then resumes his pacing.
Kentaro looks unsure of what to do next. Kinnaka doesn’t look like he wants to engage in casual conversation and the witnesses and artist are busy with the painting. He settles for standing with his arms behind his back, rocking forward and backward, and whistling. This doesn’t lasts long before Kinnaka turns on him and tells him that if he has nothing else to do, he may as well get to bed. They’ll be starting early in the morning. Kentaro nods and pulls the bell.
A minute later a footman shows up to guide him off to another sitting room, where a pallet has been set on the floor for him to sleep on. The servant apologizes, saying that there are no beds large enough to accommodate Kentaro comfortably. Kentaro tells the servant not to worry about it. He’s used to the inconvenience.
Back in the Orchid Sitting Room, Thran continues to work into the night. Kinnaka eventually stops pacing, and settles for standing still, watching the proceedings carefully. Slowly five figures start to take shape. Their bodies are very cursorily drawn, but the faces are carefully represented. Thran also adds to the overall effect by add some small touches of color. Some time after the bell tower has given notice that thee hours have elapsed since midnight, Thran steps back, looks carefully at his handiwork, and glances at Kinnaka, his eyes asking for approval. The canvas shows:
- A man who looks to be in his early 30’s with a warm smile and steely eyes. He has long, unkempt, red hair and beard.
- Three male youths, all apparently younger than 20.
- A short, sturdily built blond lad with a short haircut and a serious expression.
- A taller, more slender young man who wears his hair longer. No expression is identifiable; his facial features are easily the least specifically drawn. This is the man the witness cannot agree on.
- A boy of average height with darker, close-cropped hair and a very muscular build. His face stares intently straight out of the portrait, as if challenging the viewer.
- A tall, skinny blonde woman with very long hair. Her expression is difficult to read. She may be scared or worried, or she may just have gas.
Kinnaka:
Zhank yoo, Sran. It wir herp us bring sese men to justice.
The witness sigh with relief. Thran nods and pulls the bell cord, then starts to pack up his gear. A few minutes later, an elderly male servant who clearly has not been to bed yet enters. When Thran informs him that they are ready to leave, the servant tells Kinnaka that Sir Miles has instructed him to inquire whether they have finished the task to master Kinnaka’s satisfaction. After Kinnaka acknowledges that they have, the servant dismisses the four, who leave faster than swifts fly, lest anyone change their mind about letting them go, and offers to show Kinnaka to his room.
Kinnaka accepts the offer, and shortly thereafter is lying on an oversized sofa listening to the distant sounds of some construction project that is obviously going on through the night, wondering if he will be able to get to sleep. He never sleeps well, and sometimes not at all, and in fact, it is at least an hour before sleep, fitful and restless, finally welcomes the elf into the land of horrible dreams and worse nightmares, and we can finally call their day complete.