BoE Session 1

Fjorn didn't believe it. No nation that had for so long been so deeply entrenched in diabolism could change its ways just like that. Mind it had been almost a century since Bael Turath's fall, but to a dwarf 92 years is not so long. Thus it was that Fjorn decided he would fulfill his grandfather's grudge against the Dragon Isles to buy back his honour in the blood of devil-worshippers. That was three years ago. Since that time Fjorn's righteous fervour had all but dwindled beneath a haze of ale and harsh laws. It was when Fjorn was beginning to feel that all hope was lost-that he would never win back his honour-when Janiven came. Her offer was too good to refuse.

Vllad wasn't normally the type for deep introspection. But even he had to wonder where his life was going. The army was bred into him. Since he had been a child, he had dreamt of admiral. He was going to sail the Dragon Sea, protecting his homeland from the dangers that beset it. When he had been stationed with the ruin wardens in the rundottari to guard the Parego Dospera, he had been disappointed, but at least he knew that he was keeping his city safe. Everybody knew the horror stories of the fiends and mutants that lurked in the ruined northern parts of the city, Vllad included. But he had been unprepared for the reality of it. When people speak of mutants, they talk of evil, twisted menaces with hardly a scrap of humanity left in them. That wasn't what Vllad had found. And when he had been ordered to execute that family, as twisted and broken as their bodies may have been, Vllad had seen the humanity in their eyes. In truth, he hadn't meant to kill them. He was on edge. One, a little girl, had started to bolt, and he jumped. Vllad resigned shortly thereafter. And now, here he was. He knew the steps he had taken to get himself here, but somehow he just couldn't imagine how that patriotic little boy with his big dreams of being a war hero had ended up a bouncer at a brothel. Vllad sighed and took another drink. That was when she sat down next to him-Janiven. She told him she had a job offer for him. She told him she had a solution to his problems. He didn't have anything better to do, so...

Being raised on the streets had its advantages, thought Arcanis. For one, knowing how to pick a mark. For two, knowing the layout of the city's streets and back alleys of Westcrown better than said mark when he notices your hand in his money pouch. For three, knowing all the best places to spend one's ill-gotten gains. Yes, there were worse ways to live. Arcanis eyed the pretty brunette across the tavern. She had been staring at him since she had arrived, and it was starting to give him the creeps. She wasn't dressed like a dottari, but still... In truth, she wasn't bad to look at. She wasn't his type though. She looked hard, all edges. She also looked like she had a brain between her ears and more on her mind that most of the girls he went after. It was another hour before she crossed the smokey room to sit beside him. Just when Arcanis thought it might be his lucky night, she said something he didn't expect. She had an offer for him-something dangerous and not, in the strictest sense, legal. She introduced herself as Janiven. Despite himself, Arcanis found himself interested.



Two days after Arcanis's rendevous, he and Vllad entered Vizio's Tavern about half an hour before the time appointed by Janiven. She served the two men and made small talk while busying herself with minor chores around the tavern. Just as she was about to begin the meeting for which she had summoned them, Fjorn burst through the door. Janiven then began her meeting, though she appeared nervous. She told them that she had gathered them together to help bring an end to the tyranny that reigned over the city of Westcrown, and indeed all of Bael Turath. She was forming a group who could help the people, and bring about change. She told them that though they were willing, the people needed someone that they could rally behind.

Just then, the door slammed open, and a small boy of about 13 burst through. He slammed the door shut behind him, gasping for breath.

"They've got Arael! The hellknights nabbed him and now are arguing with the dottari over whose prisoner he is. I ran, but they followed me. They've got the place surrounded right now!" Janiven's face turned white. She grabbed the boy and ran behind the counter of the bar. Once there, she opened a trap door in the floor and began to motion for them to follow.

"Quickly, there's not much time!" Arcanis and Vllad followed Janiven, but Fjorn moved to the door, grinning wickedly. He drew his axe and ran his thumb down the blade drawing a bead of blood. A pounding came from the door.

"All those inside, come out and drop your weapons. We know you are in there and have the building surrounded. There is no escape."

"You cannot fight an army, master dwarf," Janiven pleaded. Fjorn looked from Janiven to the door, duty and rage warring on his face. H grunted and turned and ran down the trap door. Once everyone was down, Janiven descended and locked the trap door behind her. She led them down a rough-hewn tunnel into what appeared to be the city sewers.



Lighting a torch, Janiven led the way through the tunnels. Eventually they cam to an intersection. Janiven searched around the walls before exclaiming, "This way! The sword points to the safe house." She gestured to a difficult to notice sword drawn in chalk on the sewer wall. They walked for hours, and at every intersection, Janiven would find a small chalk symbol pointing the way to the safe house. The whole way the sounds of armoured boots could be heard echoing down the tunnels.

They ran into trouble only once, when they walked into an ambush set up by some indigenous sewer dwellers. The rat-like creatures attempted to ambush teh goup, but were swiftly dispatched. Fjorn identified them as nezumi, but the others disregarded him, stating that the nefarious rat-men were naught but a myth. These were clearly just mutants that resembled rats. Fjorn snorted.

With the time it took to dispatch the rat-creatures, it wasn't long before the hellknights finally caught up with the group. Two swiftly charged Janiven, and, faced with two warriros at once, they both landed telling blows, severly wounding her. Arcanis ran to cover her, while Fjorn and Vllad battled two others that came around from behind.

Vllad's two-bladed sword was more than the amiger could handle, and it took Vllad only a few seconds to make the apprentice knight a head shorter. Fjorn's berserker style was predictable for his disciplined opponent, and it took the dwarf longer to fell his foe. Vllad rushed to aid Janiven, giving her room to fire her bow. The armiger went into a defensive stance and managed to deflect both Vllad's swings as well as Janiven's arrows, but he gave too much ground. Eventually, Fjorn's powerful swings proved to much for the hellknight squire, and Fjorn's attack powered right through his opponent's sword and into his chest. Likewise, Arcanis's superior swordsmanship won out over the knight's heavy armour and found soft flesh. He fell into the sewer water and bled profusely as we was slowly washed away. Fjorn charged across the small area where they did battle, and ran to intercept the final opponent. It took every iota of the hellknight's strength to parry the dwarf's powerful blow, but it also left him open to Janiven's arrows. He was dead before he hit the floor.



They did not have time to rest and continued on. It was almost nightfall when they found the ladder that led up and out of the sewer. Once out, Janiven led them across the alley and to a rundown temple to the All-Mother. Janiven knocked on the door, and shortly a worried looking man holding a lantern answered. When he saw Janiven he ushered the party inside just as the sun sank below the horizon.