Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
The Tower of “The Sorcerer”:
Dabuk Tigerstorm paced impatiently in the anteroom of the audience chamber of Heward Tallinson. Two weeks. It had taken two weeks to get a meeting with the Sorcerer, while The Ishtar waited in dry-dock. Bactra sat on a nearby divan, his nose in an alchemical text left in the room for guest arcanists to browse. Jeddar stood looking out a reinforced glassteel window, while Dvalin and Mesik sat at a small table munching on sweetmeats and fine venison, also provided for them, while they waited for the Sorcerer.
Dabuk hadn’t spent all that time only trying to speed up discussions with the Shipbuilders League, however. He had spent several days gathering contacts that would allow him to quickly put together a crew and cargo manifest. The regulations of the Shipbuilders League were very strict, on this matter. A new ship required full approval before it’s captain could assemble a crew. It was another layer of red tape designed to tax new captains to the brink of insolvency, so that the League’s control of Fruen’s docks, ships, dockworkers, and sailors remained absolute.
Dabuk had refused to wait, however, and had slowly and quietly begun to recruit groups of hardy sailing men using his contacts in the Tiger Guild. For while the Shipbuilders League controls the docks, the Tiger Guild has the ear of the King, specifically Dabuk’s grandfather, Carl Tigerstorm. Dabuk had soon gained access to the best sailors available from the King’s fleet, at least, those King Dragonguard could spare. Once the sniveling Dock Master of the Shipbuilders League approved The Ishtar, Dabuk would quickly finish his recruitment and provisioning.
But for now, his mind was firmly on this meeting with Tallinson. The archmage was definitely a recluse in kingdom’s society of powerful noble lords and mercantile guilds. The citizens of Thallin view arcanists with much awe and respect, and the Arcane Order was almost as influential as the Tiger Guild. Dabuk knew little about the Order beyond what Bactra had told him, which wasn’t much. Bactra wasn’t important enough to gain entrance into the Order, or wealthy enough to buy his way in. Not even his association with the Tiger Guild was opening that door for him.
Tallinson and Carl were old friends, but not even the Sorcerer would go against Japheth Arcane when it came to membership into the Arcane Order. That had been what his grandfather had told Bactra when his cousin had asked the Guildmaster of the Tiger Guild, several years ago, to speak to the Sorcerer on his behalf. Bactra hadn’t known about the two old men’s friendship then, but after Stephan Kassadine had mentioned Heward’s friendship with the Tigerstorm Family Bactra had realized that he’d been asking a lot from Carl’s old comrade in arms.
Bactra was content to sit and wait for the man he’d wanted to meet for so long. The book, a fascinating study of the craft of alchemy, was one of the most engrossing manuscripts on the subject he’d ever seen. And the book was written in the Sorcerer’s own hand! Amazing!
Bactra watched Dabuk pace out of the corner of his eye, while at the same time taking an occasional glance towards Mesik. The hairfoot rogue was his friend, but this was the Sorcerer’s Tower, and the last thing Bactra wanted was for Mesik to filch something innocent-looking, just for the hell of it, and have it turn out to be something that Tallinson valued, greatly. Of course, the chance of this actually occurring was remote, more due to the fact that Mesik wasn’t likely to steal from an ally of the Tiger Guild than there being something that valuable in the antechamber.
Regardless, Bactra knew that Dabuk was keeping one eye on Mesik, as well.
No, what concerned Bactra more was the mood of his other two friends. They were different since their time, in their homelands, to the north. War did strange things to people, and he wondered what they had suffered through. Dvalin was less morose than Jeddar, but that could have simply been his greater age showing through. Dvalin was nearly 60 summers old, per the New Calendar, and the second oldest of the group, besides Bactra himself. The elf wizard often forgot that he was 80 years older than the dwarf, simple due to the fact Dvalin seemed older, from an “old hand” point-of-view.
Bactra could feel the sadness and weight of the world coming from his right. Jeddar stood there looking out the window towards the north, worrying. He did that a lot, and wasn’t even aware of it. Dabuk hadn’t noticed it until Bactra had pointed it out to him. The half-elven bard was troubled, to say the least, but refused to talk about it. Dvalin had told them, that being Bactra and Dabuk, to leave it alone. Jeddar would talk about it when he felt the time was right, if at all.
The war wasn’t going well in the Kingdom of the Silver Leaves. Jeddar had agonized over leaving his homeland when Dvalin had come for him, at the time they had previously set. He had not wanted to go, but a promise was a promise. The Tiger Guild had taught him that, and he felt a responsibility to his other guild, the famous Bardic College of Thallin. He hadn’t been back to “sing to his superiors”, so to speak, about his exploits in some time, and knew he’d put his guild responsibilities on the backburner long enough. And once he’d heard what Dabuk and the others were planning to do, he knew he had to go with them.
Plus, he’d wanted to see Minx again.
Jeddar rubbed the medallion around his neck, unconsciously, as he thought about his old flame. He had enthralled Minx the moment they met, even to the point of her distancing herself from Dabuk and her tight group of friends in the Tiger Guild. He’d been wary, at first, thinking Minx and Dabuk’s relationship had been more than professional, but Minx had assured him that she didn’t see Dabuk that way. Jeddar glanced over his shoulder at his friend, as the half-elven ranger paced. Even after all these years, Jeddar wasn’t sure Minx had told him the truth, not that it mattered anymore. Minx and Jeddar’s relationship had gone beyond friends and lovers.
He’d have married her a dozen times over if she’d let him.
Dabuk turned back towards the door leading into the Sorcerer’s audience chamber just in time to hear the lock click and the door swing open. A young apprentice stepped out, made sure he had their complete attention, and then spoke.
“Master Tallinson will see you now.”
* * *
Dabuk Tigerstorm paced impatiently in the anteroom of the audience chamber of Heward Tallinson. Two weeks. It had taken two weeks to get a meeting with the Sorcerer, while The Ishtar waited in dry-dock. Bactra sat on a nearby divan, his nose in an alchemical text left in the room for guest arcanists to browse. Jeddar stood looking out a reinforced glassteel window, while Dvalin and Mesik sat at a small table munching on sweetmeats and fine venison, also provided for them, while they waited for the Sorcerer.
Dabuk hadn’t spent all that time only trying to speed up discussions with the Shipbuilders League, however. He had spent several days gathering contacts that would allow him to quickly put together a crew and cargo manifest. The regulations of the Shipbuilders League were very strict, on this matter. A new ship required full approval before it’s captain could assemble a crew. It was another layer of red tape designed to tax new captains to the brink of insolvency, so that the League’s control of Fruen’s docks, ships, dockworkers, and sailors remained absolute.
Dabuk had refused to wait, however, and had slowly and quietly begun to recruit groups of hardy sailing men using his contacts in the Tiger Guild. For while the Shipbuilders League controls the docks, the Tiger Guild has the ear of the King, specifically Dabuk’s grandfather, Carl Tigerstorm. Dabuk had soon gained access to the best sailors available from the King’s fleet, at least, those King Dragonguard could spare. Once the sniveling Dock Master of the Shipbuilders League approved The Ishtar, Dabuk would quickly finish his recruitment and provisioning.
But for now, his mind was firmly on this meeting with Tallinson. The archmage was definitely a recluse in kingdom’s society of powerful noble lords and mercantile guilds. The citizens of Thallin view arcanists with much awe and respect, and the Arcane Order was almost as influential as the Tiger Guild. Dabuk knew little about the Order beyond what Bactra had told him, which wasn’t much. Bactra wasn’t important enough to gain entrance into the Order, or wealthy enough to buy his way in. Not even his association with the Tiger Guild was opening that door for him.
Tallinson and Carl were old friends, but not even the Sorcerer would go against Japheth Arcane when it came to membership into the Arcane Order. That had been what his grandfather had told Bactra when his cousin had asked the Guildmaster of the Tiger Guild, several years ago, to speak to the Sorcerer on his behalf. Bactra hadn’t known about the two old men’s friendship then, but after Stephan Kassadine had mentioned Heward’s friendship with the Tigerstorm Family Bactra had realized that he’d been asking a lot from Carl’s old comrade in arms.
Bactra was content to sit and wait for the man he’d wanted to meet for so long. The book, a fascinating study of the craft of alchemy, was one of the most engrossing manuscripts on the subject he’d ever seen. And the book was written in the Sorcerer’s own hand! Amazing!
Bactra watched Dabuk pace out of the corner of his eye, while at the same time taking an occasional glance towards Mesik. The hairfoot rogue was his friend, but this was the Sorcerer’s Tower, and the last thing Bactra wanted was for Mesik to filch something innocent-looking, just for the hell of it, and have it turn out to be something that Tallinson valued, greatly. Of course, the chance of this actually occurring was remote, more due to the fact that Mesik wasn’t likely to steal from an ally of the Tiger Guild than there being something that valuable in the antechamber.
Regardless, Bactra knew that Dabuk was keeping one eye on Mesik, as well.
No, what concerned Bactra more was the mood of his other two friends. They were different since their time, in their homelands, to the north. War did strange things to people, and he wondered what they had suffered through. Dvalin was less morose than Jeddar, but that could have simply been his greater age showing through. Dvalin was nearly 60 summers old, per the New Calendar, and the second oldest of the group, besides Bactra himself. The elf wizard often forgot that he was 80 years older than the dwarf, simple due to the fact Dvalin seemed older, from an “old hand” point-of-view.
Bactra could feel the sadness and weight of the world coming from his right. Jeddar stood there looking out the window towards the north, worrying. He did that a lot, and wasn’t even aware of it. Dabuk hadn’t noticed it until Bactra had pointed it out to him. The half-elven bard was troubled, to say the least, but refused to talk about it. Dvalin had told them, that being Bactra and Dabuk, to leave it alone. Jeddar would talk about it when he felt the time was right, if at all.
The war wasn’t going well in the Kingdom of the Silver Leaves. Jeddar had agonized over leaving his homeland when Dvalin had come for him, at the time they had previously set. He had not wanted to go, but a promise was a promise. The Tiger Guild had taught him that, and he felt a responsibility to his other guild, the famous Bardic College of Thallin. He hadn’t been back to “sing to his superiors”, so to speak, about his exploits in some time, and knew he’d put his guild responsibilities on the backburner long enough. And once he’d heard what Dabuk and the others were planning to do, he knew he had to go with them.
Plus, he’d wanted to see Minx again.
Jeddar rubbed the medallion around his neck, unconsciously, as he thought about his old flame. He had enthralled Minx the moment they met, even to the point of her distancing herself from Dabuk and her tight group of friends in the Tiger Guild. He’d been wary, at first, thinking Minx and Dabuk’s relationship had been more than professional, but Minx had assured him that she didn’t see Dabuk that way. Jeddar glanced over his shoulder at his friend, as the half-elven ranger paced. Even after all these years, Jeddar wasn’t sure Minx had told him the truth, not that it mattered anymore. Minx and Jeddar’s relationship had gone beyond friends and lovers.
He’d have married her a dozen times over if she’d let him.
Dabuk turned back towards the door leading into the Sorcerer’s audience chamber just in time to hear the lock click and the door swing open. A young apprentice stepped out, made sure he had their complete attention, and then spoke.
“Master Tallinson will see you now.”
* * *
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