Pack Your Bags

"How's business?" Councilman so and so I can't recall his name, he popped into my shop every once in a while to shake me down for political donations and talk business (so he could decide on how much to shake me down for). It was still winter, holidays were over, but the only thing I was selling was the occaisional heavy coat that lasted years so I didn't sell them very often (despite several attempts I never found a good coat that was warm that didn't last past a season, I still try though). Technically I was in this councilman's district, but its not like I ever saw a direct benefit to the pseudo bribery other than him leaving my store for a time.

"Slow." I always told him slow, even when I'm busy, because again he uses it to see how much money he can take from me.

"How slow? Because I've got a little problem I heard a person like you can solve with little issue."  This kind of thing comes up from time to time, even today in a new city in a new government entirely, word gets out that I'm a solver of stupid problems and stupid problems come find me.  Normally its reading some misforgotten language for an idiot who doesn't realize the "ancient" magic they found is actually a dirty limerick or a crappy stew recipe (not entirely their fault as I tend to sell these very things on the downlow to dirt merchants as a way to make some coin on the side, what can I say I'm not honest). Occaisionally though my reputation of slayer of beasts will arise and some misguided soul will think that their problem of the day is now my problem.

"Not that slow Councilman."

"You know its a shame you are looting this community and not really adding to it Lorentino, I heard theres going to be a vote on property tax increases coming up, would be a shame if yours went up."

"And wouldn't you know it business slowed down just enough for me to get away." Guilt trips, like normal trips always leave you feeling mildly pissed off for the journey.

"Excellent, I've heard of some merchants being harrased by a weird creature on the Northern trade routes, the town guard considers it Ronerawth militarys job to patrol trade routes, and the Empire feels its a local issue not worth military support."

"And you just can't hire a mercenary?"

"Because you are one and you won't charge will you Trezlan?" I hate when people put you on the spot and then be a dick about it knowing they have you on the spot.

"Northern trade route right? How far north?"

"Just outside of the plains where the ground becomes less grass more hard scrabble rock." With that he left my shop, he had the smug grin of someone who knew they got what they wanted at the expense of what the other person wanted. My staff still wasn't back from their holiday yet, so I gathered my supplies in silence, put a sign on the door that said "Gone Adventuring." And got on my horse and set out for the north.  I hoped it wouldn't be more than a week to take care of the issue, but I knew in my luck I'd be lucky to live at all, and not have like fifty years pass between when I set off and when I got back (You never know, could get stuck in like a time cave or something, its probably happened to someone, some time).

Saving the Saviors

"This is the thanks I get for saving you." And I'm back, not that I really went anywhere, nevermind roll with it. Morley looked at me a little too long with the hammer on his pistol locked back, he eventually decocked it and holstered the weapon in front of him.  He looked better, I guess the curse had run its course or Morley had killed someone else, or both.

"I'm sure you had nothing to do with it, actually as soon as you left I started to feel better, if I hadn't gotten sick prior to meeting you, I'd figured it was something I actually got from you." You know the sad part was, he was kind of right in a roundabout way.

"Touched Morley, but how the hell did you find me?" It was a valid question, I mean again not like I told the world "Hey I'll be kidnapped by a crazy group of cultists please come save me."

"I read the paper, saw you announced my death albeit horrifically, and figured this cult would come looking for you."

"Wait you knew about these crazy people?"

"Of course I knew, they don't know I know, but I know, I know a lot, and I even used them in the past without them knowing."  You know what I'm saying? Because I wrote that after he said it, and I'm still having trouble figuring out what he said.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind idiot lets get out of here." I wasn't about to fight Morley here, he knew the way out and I was in his debt sort of.  I mean I did try and save him! Its not exactly my fault he wasn't in any danger. I know you expected some large fight with some funny words tossed around (because I know me and thats what I would want) but honestly we skulked off like burgalars, aside from creepshow we didn't run across any more cultists (I almost think Morley persuaded them to avoid us prior and just staged the "rescue" so that I'd owe him, in fact I suspect this whole thing was a sham, a dirty damn sham! Even a hundred years later I still believe that!). He even had my sword back, see he totally set this all up!

That's the thing with Morley, he screws with me in subtle ways.  Like the other day there was no tissue paper in my entire house though I swore I bought some, I know that was Morley.  I know it, because he's petty like that. Don't look at my journal like that, I'm completely right.  Anyway blah blah blah, I made it back to Ronerawth cursed Morley's name and finished the holidays hung over from excessive drinking.  So much like every other holiday, including the murder (what can I say I have traditions too).

A Word About Shackles

Shackles are an important item to keep someone restrainted.  They come in all sorts of colors and metal types.  Some are more gilded than others, and even some are more metaphorical than actual. Restraints are important when you are engaged in slavery, law enforcement, sexual adventurism (not my thing, but you know I've heard some enjoy it).  They are especially important when dealing with magical users, as the proper shackles can prevent them from actually using their abilities. Not so proper shackles though will just make them think they are actually imprisoned, but not actually be locked up (I think you can probably guess where I'm going with this).

Yes I was fooled by my own lack of inventiveness to believe the shackles I had on were the proper type. They looked like the real thing, I had no reason to suspect they weren't the real thing! Also I'll couch this in that they are all magic eaters so I was afraid they'd just eat any spells I'd use to free myself (even if it was just one guy looking at me, and even then he wasn't really paying attention to me).  So I could use my magic the whole time and I kept myself shackled to a rock for I guess back support (we'll ignore how I discovered I could do this, because frankly it was a little embarrasing).

I waited till creepshow went to sleep watching me and quickly melted the ring holding my shackles in place and then severed the chain themselves (but not the shackles, super heated metal right next to my wrist not something I really wanted). Creepshow didn't even notice when I took his dagger and slit his throat (if I was feeling petty I would have said something about lying about killing him last, but I didn't want to alert the other magic eaters).  He also had a pistol I took, even though I'm awful with shooting a fire arm (it was a cave, I could have gotten lucky bouncing a shot).  I checked over the church to see if anyone was coming and there didn't appear to be anyone, relieved I looked for a way out. There looked to only be a single entrance in (makes sense it was a cave not exactly something constructed), it wasn't as well lit so I creeped toward it, dagger in one hand pistol in the other (dagger in my left pistol in my right). As I drew close to the mouth of the entrance I could hear someone approaching, I readied myself turned the corner and ran right into Morley sticking a gun in my face.

"Trezlan nice to see you." I heard the hammer hit back on his pistol and thought for just a moment "I really hope that isn't one of my guns." What can I say, I was worried he stole that.

Morley's Malcious Minionry

I was taken underground and chained to a rock altar (because what else could go wrong in trying to save Morley, not only taken underground but to be sacrficed on an altar). The Altar looked like it was the set up for a church of some kin, I could see stone pews around torches that were built into the stone walls.  I had to wonder if the magic eaters had made this or just killed the previous cult and taken it over.  The stone I was on was at least more comfortable than the coffin (by comparison you see, everything by comparison) and it was clean for the most part it wasn't caked in red, which either spoke to no sacrifices or cleaning after the fact. Chubby left one person to watch over me, the rest of her cult going wherever a cult goes.  I had my hands shackled over my head, my feet were free, so in theory I could roll off the altar hit the ground and hurt myself, ok so plan A wasn't exactly a winning formula.

"When do I get to eat?" Valid question when you are a hostage, depending on the answer you can determine long term strategy. If they tell you never, they don't intend on keeping you around long.

"Quiet usurper I have to watch you, not speak with you." The guy they left me was a thin creepy looking guy.  Probably the sort that was picked on a lot while growing up (and not just for being a magic eater, he looked like the kind of guy caught peaking at where women go to the bathroom).

"I'm utterly at a loss as to what you guys think I did to or for Morley, let alone to be called a usurper, if anything you should be thanking me for saving him." Outlook not very good, didn't mention food or care, most likely a day at best until they try and kill me.

"You changed him usurper, ever since he visited you he is not the Morley of old, whatever spell you cast on him has altered him forever now be silent before I cut out your tongue." I still think its hilarious they think because Morley got himself in trouble trying to mess with politics (twice in recent times back then recall Marian's story and how he thought his curse was a result of that).

"I like you creepshow, I'll kill you last." He laughed and then took out a very sharp knife. The time for talk was sadly at a close. Creepshow continued to watch me always making sure to keep the knife in view should I feel chatty again. I have to admit chained to a rock looking to only live a day or so.  I was a little worried.  I mean its not like I left a note "You can find me with the creepy magic eater cult that worships Morley." So my talks of living was more bravado than belief.  Like 90% of what I do.

Coughin in my Coffin

There are certain things you don't ever want to do in life.  Traveling in a box meant to carry your body to its final resting place is one of them (its why I've told anyone should I die burn me on a pyre do not under any circumstance bury me, yes whoever is reading this if I'm dead BURN MY ASS!).  For one they are really cramped, I understand because their normal occupants care not how things go, but I as a still living person not being able to move ones arms hardly at all is a challenge.  Add on top of that I was shackled in a damn box and you can see my discomfort in the whole process.

I also want to complain about the people who carried me (yes this is going to be an all complaints entry DEAL WITH IT!).  They were the clumsiest bunch of jerks this side of jerkington.  I know they were supposed to act like I was just a corpse, but that shouldn't include bumping into everything! I had bruises they were so clumsy, and apparently weak as they dropped the damn coffin quite a few times (or were handing it off to someone else who was clumsy as an ox!)

Now you'll probably be asking yourself "Why not just cry out and say you aren't dead?" First stupid to ask a question long after a story is over and done with (must I keep reminding you I'm writing these entries long after they are done and I'm not a ghost!) Second sadly it wasn't unique for unwilling participants to be trafficed in the Red Hand territories.  Third honestly I was kind of intrigued as to what they were going to do to me, so I kept my mouth shut to see how far the charade was about to go.

So it went that I traveled in a coffin to a dark lair of magic eaters who worshipped Morley as some kind of anti magical god.  Not my best holiday, but not my worst (yes there is a story, maybe I'll explain it someday, maybe).

An Unusual Method of Travel

"Stay back you fiends or I'll carve you up." I had drawn my sword, magic eaters almost universally don't have magical abilities themselves (thus their curse to sample others but never be able to produce it, like teachers only less suicidal). That didn't of course mean they didn't have fire arms, but it was the lands of the Red Hand, an area that hates fire arms almost as much as magic eaters themselves.  The cocking of several pistols of course told me that surpringly anti magical people in a hostile land don't really care what the hostile people think.

"Drop your sword or we shoot you dead." Chubby wasn't playing around, and I could see that their guns looked to be Hanlon specials from having sold a few myself (ironic that saving that factory now screwed me, somewhere that freaky mist dragon lady is laughing at me) which meant even if I had my magic it would do me no favor.  My sword thumped on the ground and one of the cultists clapped me in irons (oh anti magical shackles I had not missed you). Unarmed and effectively magically neutered they still kept their pistols trained on me (I guess I'm just that scary). They pushed me toward the coffin and told me to get in.

"You have to be joking me."  I mean I'd purchased something that was cheap that looked fancy, I had no idea I'd be riding in the damn thing (though I was thankful I had not aquired a body to sell the illusion like I'd intended).

"Either way you are going in it Lorentino, decide now if you'd rather be breathing or not." So I got in the coffin. There I was captured again by a cult worshipping Morley who had set a trap at my trap to capture me because they really wanted to kill me and not Morley. I tell you its like I always say, I hate when friends come over for the holidays.  Well that and "Shoo beggars if the gods wanted you to get gifts they'd have given you money to buy them!"

Not a Cult of Personality

"Morley isn't dead though, look the coffin is empty this is just a trap for the person who is trying to kill Morley, not like a real funeral!" I hate having to explain the obvious, even when it isn't readily obvious and even when I didn't actually have to... Never mind lets just move on.

"We know he's not dead Lorentino, and you are right this is a trap, for you." Suddenly I'm reminded of curse assassins telling me to leave this one alone, or suddenly being really helpful, suddenly I'm reminded that I think I left the kettle on the stove and I hope it doesn't ruin the tea (that last one is much more recent and sadly I did ruin the tea).

"So the curse you put on him..."

"Will only inconvenience him and then go away." I remember being angry I missed out on seeing Morley in misery that would go away on his own so I could mock him.  It's sad that I remember that so clearly.

"So I have to wonder..."

"Why we didn't curse kill you? Simple, we didn't know who you were other than your name, and for a curse to work you have to know the person specifically." Makes sense, your hatred fuels the curse, you can't really hate a person specifically if you never met them (well I hope, because if not I'm in real trouble). There were twenty of them including their pudgy leader.  I didn't see weapons, but I figured any cult worshipping Morley were probably magic users, potentially even Necromancers.

"Morley will be upset with you if you kill me, he's your leader after all." I was stalling trying to think of a way out, burn the tent down? A little risky could end up setting myself on fire if I wasn't fast enough to escape, same with trying to burn them all up.

"Morley does not know we exist, we are his servants from a far following his deeds to enrich ourselves."

"So you are his cult but he's unaware of you? That's really creepy." Well it was I stand by that statement (not like I don't stand by everything my mouth shoots off, which has lead me to lose a lot of friendships, well that and death, lots and lots of death). Hoping to capilize on the insult I risked burning myself to death and ignited the roof of the tent, well I wanted to, but unfortunately NOTHING HAPPENED! Their chubby leader gave me a smile that told me it was not accidental.  Now there are a couple things that prevent magic being applied, I've gone over them in the past, but there is one type I might not have mentioned, and thats magic eaters. No they don't actually eat magic like a dish, but they can block its application through whatever gods horrible curse they have been given (though judging by chubby, maybe she should lay off the magic HEY YOO HISTORY BURN!).  It didn't surprise me a cult of anti magical people would form around Morley, because honestly its kind of been his thing to murder other magical users (not like by crusade or anything, but by virtue of being damn Morley).  It was surprising they were in the damn Red Hand lands though, that type of magical vampirism (and it is vampirism, part of being a magic eater is a desire to eat magic, its like a weird drug, I've heard fairly power magic eaters actually suffer withdrawls from not eating magic regularly) is exterminated because of how dangerous it is.  Its honestly one of the only things I totally agreed with the Red Hand with, well that and magic users being gods, but you know the one thing I agreed with that didn't screw over the common people immediately.

"That was delicious Lorentino." The whole group looked high.  Which was worse, because not only did that mean they were all probably magic eaters, it also meant I couldn't use my one get out of jail free card (figuratively, though I have exploded a few jail cells in my day).

"Crap." Its really all there is to say.

The Funeral of Morley

As you can see from my short inscribed post from yesterday I killed Morley.  Well in print anyway.  Hardest part of that was actually paying for all the flowery language that makes him out to be everything he certainly was not! Well that and finding where the hell Morley lived in Zorn (thankfully he had a Morley plaque in proud display near his gigantic estate, almost as if in defiance of what would befall him).  You'll note I said the ceremony would be outside, despite the weather being awful this time of year in Zorn, because Morley neglected to give me a key, and there was no way I'd ever break into his place and risk my life.

To my credit I did pay someone to set up some chairs and a couple tents so that the five people who showed up could have a place to sit and look at the empty coffin I had closed at the front near a podium (thank gods Morley has a huge estate or this would look like even more of a trap than it already was). So it at least kind of looked like an actual ceremony.  I was tempted to not use my own name, but I didn't think anyone alive would really connect me to past me (mistake number however million I make continually).

I was waiting up front by the coffin to keep people from noticing there wasn't a body in it (not for lack of trying, no I didn't intend on killing someone, just digging one up, but the cursed graveyard was watched like a damn hawk), when the room suddenly filled with people dressed in black.  So many different people dressed for an actual funeral I was caught off guard.  Here I expected to find the one person who looked too gleefully that Morley was dead and force them to take the curse off, and here an actual crowd of mourners! Thankfully/horribly I noticed this group of mourners was all wearing the same emblem and then I realized as always too late, that the only funeral they were planning on attending was my own.

"Mr. Lorentino, how nice of you to join us in mourning." Female, black hair, kind of plump for a cult leader or whatever these people were, but you know I really shouldn't judge, not everyone gets their exercise from running from everything like I do.

"Morley was a dear friend, I assume you were his uhhh church group?" I hoped my voice didn't show my signs of fear.  Despite the tent being canvas it was secured and they were covering the exit.  I could make an exit of course, but that assumed I'd have the ability to do so, with my previous experience with cults and leaders, thats like a fifty fifty kind of thing.

"We were his followers Lorentino, and now we are his avengers." Confused? Yeah so was I. And the revelation of the madness shall begin, tomorrow, got to leave you wanting something.

In Memoriam of Mr. Morley

An exerpt from a widely circulated paper in Zorn.

-With great sadness we announce the passing of Mr. Morley (no first name given).  He fought a long battle against a spreading disease but in the end he could not fight any longer and passed away over the weekend. Morley is survived by his one true friend Trezlan Lorentino. For anyone wishing to pay their respects to this brave fighter of the darkness a small ceremony will be held outside his home in Zorn, cash donations are welcome for the many charitable organizations Morley was apart of. Anyone who is not a friend of Morley or was touched by his life is recommended to stay at home and be silent, whatever grudges he may have had in life are no longer his in death.

A Curse On You All

"Clever." I believe this is where I left off, the remark of course was very clever.  You know the hardest thing about looking at someone upside down? Trying to keep yourself centered in realizing they are actually on the ground and you are not.  I know that doesn't make any sense, but hang upside down for a while and it will make total sense!

"I thought so."

"You should be more careful when contacting people like myself, some of my colleagues would not find your inquiries quite as humerous and would just kill you rather than talk with you."

"So should I say thank you?" I was really at a loss as to what courtesy hanging someone upside down provided.  I did have my magic so I could burn him and free myself, but I figured that would not accomplish what I needed accomplished.

"You should, but not for this.  You are chasing the wrong people Lorentino, we are no more guilty than the pistol that fired a bullet is the real culprit, our curses only work on the active hatred of the person they are intended on killing."

"So you're saying if I want to stop the curse on Morley."

"You have to find who cursed him, no I can not tell you who that is, and I'd recommend against going back to talk to Morley as he doesn't have a lot of time even with your laughable alchemist potion." Damn these guys were good at knowing my moves, if I wasn't writing this entry years after this happened I'd think they were reading it in the past!

"Well can you at least untie me, I'm getting a head ache." He shook his head and was gone.  At least I think it was a he, could have been a she with a deep voice.  I used fire to cut the rope and landed with a thud on my bed thankfully, he was at least that kind.  I also knew I had to find out who hated Morley enough to curse him, so that was only like half the known world, possibly extra dimensions, you know no pressure or anything.  I was seriously just thinking of leaving him to his fate, if only it didn't mean he'd some how come back and make it worse for me (a fear I still have to this day). I did have another wild plan to try and figure out who cursed Morley, but to do it I'd have to kill Morley.  Yep I'd have to kill him to save him, its a Lorentino kind of thing, I'll explain tommorrow.

Assassins Greed

"You looking to have someone killed?" Why every assassin in the world looks as shady as their profession I'll never understand.  In theory they are supposed to be hidden, or at the very least not so damn obvious! This guy had a thin mustache and jowls, he looked more like a comical pimp than an assassin.  I'd been in Lork for a couple days now, putting out feelers about needing someone killed, this was my first bite.

"I don't know if I'd say that, I'd like for them to die, and badly, but I'd prefer for it not to be traced back to me." I was in one of the many skeevy bars in Lork.  It wasn't the kind of place the high rollers wound up on purpose (if they had a need for someone hanging out in a bar like this, they'd send an assistant).

"I can do that." He seemed confident, but clearly not the type I was looking for.

"Can you do it with a curse that turns them into a slowly decaying mess?" His face soured, he looked at me like I'd ask him to do an impossible sex act and then left my table immediately.  I'd figured that whoever this group of assassins were they had a reputation, and if I bugged enough people they'd find me, again (hopefully with better results for myself).  It was risky, but as always my plans are go long on stupid and hope to win big. Surpingly this works more often than it does not, because I'm awesome obviously.

The scene above played out quite a few times over the next few days. With reactions varying from outright disgust to partial fear.  I was beginning to think the group I was looking for would never actually appear until I woke up in the middle of the night suspended in the air having been tied to the ceiling with some rope.

"I heard you're looking for us." The man in front of me was dressed in all black (naturally and really it conformed to my idea of assassins a lot more than the dirty ruffians I'd seen previously) his face was also obscured, hell it could have been a she for all I knew.

"Yeah I heard you guys make a hell of a steak, and I was wondering just what is your secret?" And that's where I'll leave this entry for the day, me being suspended after making a really bad joke.  Just like I expect my final moments in life to go.

Red Hand Land of Opportunity

"So you're leaving me here and going north to fight a group of curse assassins who already managed to disable you completely once in the hope of some how getting the curse off of me so that I don't die?" Morley did not sound like he trusted my plan to succeed.

"Yes Morley." I was stocking up on different types of flammable material, food, and toilet paper (look when you're alone in the wild toilet paper is the one comfort you really want).

"And all I have is that foul fluid you've given me and assured me it won't just kill me faster." As you can see Morley has no trust.

"Yes Morley." I mulled over bringing one of Hanlon's pistols with me, but ultimately decided to leave it, the Red Hand was really averse to firearms, especially a Ronerawth merchant carrying one.

"Oh this plan can't certainly fail, I certainly shouldn't just dig a hole and throw myself in!" His optimism was stunning.

"You go to war with the plan you have, not the plan you want Morley." While hoping to actually avoid going to war, my plan was pretty much an invitation to battle as it stood.  I had no idea how I'd get them to uncurse Morley, I was really hoping asking nicely would get the job done.

"Well at least I know I won't die alone Trezlan." His optimism is astounding. I didn't argue with him I just packed my things and told him I'd leave the key to his shackles sitting on a hook near the door when I left (see I'm not a total monster I left him a way to use his magic again). I wanted to take a train north and then ride on horse back to the divide, but after my little meeting with the curse assassins (curssin? Assasurses?) I figured staying away from public anything would be in my best interest.  So I saddled my horse and made for the Divide.

Now there was the small issue of actually getting across the divide as both the Red Hand and Ronerawth were never on "trading" terms especially following their conflicts.  I had this covered by simple bribery as everyone knew if you really wanted to get across the border the right amount of money and they let you through, hell if you paid enough you could probably get an entire army through, at least as far as Ronerawth was concerned.  Money as always was the great fixer of problems. My journey north was pretty uneventful, thanks to most of Ronerawth being civilized now either by shooting anything hostile or accusing it of being a traitor and beheading it (damn traitorous wild life got their due!)

Once I was across the border without some of the coinage I started with I felt that imposing sense of doom you can only get from being in the Red Hand's territory (thankfully now that the Guard is in charge things have, well gotten a lot worse since the war ravaged everything and let loose horrors beyond imagination!) I felt good you know, optimistic at my chances, because I'm damn idiotic! I should have ran away and waited for Morley to die.  Alas in for dumb in for the full dumb, and off I went to Lork to try and figure out a lead on these mysterious assassins, because the best way to find a secretive organization is by blundering around asking about them!

Saftey is an Illusion

There's a problem with being in the same place for a while. You grow to feel safe there, for anyone else this isn't so much an issue as much as it is a "feature" of the society they integrate with (busting out the big words today).  I am not most people, so when I feel safe its probably best to assume I am not, and so with this in mind I left my shop completely unarmed (well aside from my magic but you know there's just something more comforting about cold weirdly blue steel as opposed to magics wildly different results). You can probably see where this is going.

I hit up most of my normal above board contacts early, the usual suspects of apothecaries, witch doctors, that guy who claims his oil will fix everything (it does not fix anything aside from an excess money in your pocket problem).  I was feeling pretty run down and hoping to cut through an alley to hurry things along when I was blinded, gagged, and shackled immediately (or as I like to call a little me time with some ladies of the night).  I didn't even have time to think of using magic or striking out.  A hot breath was on my ear.

"Leave this one alone Lorentino, or you'll be the next one dying." I muffled a response through my gag that I won't repeat here and then I was free.  Gag was off with the blindfold and shackles. I spun around ready to burn my brief captor, but there was no one there. I started to wonder if maybe the letter hadn't started to screw with me, which only got me to move a bit faster to my last stop of the day.

My final contact was a supposed alchemist (that being someone who believes they can change metal into gold, now I've seen all kind of magic, I've never seen this particular trick), he lived underground through a couple sewer passages to hide his craft (mainly because while he couldn't do metal to gold, he was quite adept at brewing poisons and other maladies). His little hovel always smelled like bad gas from all the brewing fluids and poor ventilation.  It was surprising he hadn't killed himself already.

"Trezlan!" He looked like you'd expect someone who brews poisons and potions to look, short, fat, balding.

"Boly!" What better name for a short fat guy who mixes poisons than Boly? Its like his parents knew before he did!

"I assume you aren't here to try my holiday cider?" Boly was a get down to business kind of guy, he and I had worked together a couple times already to sort out some fairly unpleasant yet kind of boring business (you don't want to hear about killing fungal infections underneath the city? Yeah I didn't think so).

I produced the letter, "Friend of mine, well aquaintenance, well ok nevermind this guy I know got a nasty case of dying from this letter, I'd hope you'd be able to figure out what." He grabbed the letter with some tongues and took it back to his alchemy lab, I sat down in a nearby chair and waited for the verdict.  Boly for all his kindness was a secretive man, I've never actually seen where he does the majority of his work because of that.  Never really bothered me as someone who doesn't want to die gasping from air from sniffing the wrong vial of evil.

"Well good news bad news Trezlan."

"I'll take the good news first I like good things."

"The letter did not carry anything on it, its not dangerous." He tossed it back to me, I could see the edges had been partially singed.

"And the bad news would mean you have no idea whats killing that guy I know."

"Exactly, my guess would be a curse, I've seen that type of letter before when I was in Red Hand territory, group of nasty killers tended to use them as way of instilling fear and spreading their reputation." Great my fear about going crazy before was not true, instead I was mixed up with some super group of murderers.

"Fantastic, do you have anything that can help with a curse?" He tossed me a glass vial that was warm to the touch.

"Have your friend drink that, should last a couple weeks and at the very least hold whatevers killing him at bay until you can get the curse off of him."

"Or I could just let him die."

"You could do that, either way shall we settle the bill?" I frowned at Boly but rolled up my sleeve.  Boly didn't take normal payment for his services from people like me, it was always in blood. I felt needle slide in to my forearm and saw his little jar filling up, it didn't take long since I'm a strong century old guy (look I don't like to think about how old I am at times, especially when I'm looking at the ladies). Happy he gave me a small bandage to wrap my arm in and be on my way.

I didn't really want to return to Morley, whatever he'd done had probably earned him the curse, but I also didn't like some mysterious organization telling me to keep my nose out of it.  What can I say, I hate being told what I can and can't do, its one reason I'm still a necromancer, everytime someone told me "We all have to die Trezlan." I said screw that! And continue to say that till this day! So I knew even then I'd have to help Morley, if only to keep up my defiance of any kind of norms.  Once again when he kills me I'm getting the biggest I told you so in the afterlife I know it.

I Knew I Told That Story For a Reason

"It all started when I decided to try and influence the Red Hand council..." Now you may be thinking to yourself that its silly to ask someone how they arrived at near dying when they are in fact dying, and that's correct it is silly, but Morley is hardly a person and I wanted a story for the malady before I even bothered helping. I mean who knows he might have pissed off a god and this was divine punishment, I don't want in on that, I already had one dark god thing after me to begin with. "I discovered a councilman had a pretty nasty secret he was keeping and with a couple secret bargains I had a guy in my back pocket."

"He wasn't keeping frozen dead women in his house was he?" See you see? I knew I told you that story for a reason, yes I know thats the title of this entry DEAL WITH IT!

"How, how could you have possibly known that?" Morley looked at me with those what else aren't you telling me eyes.

"Nevermind continue." I didn't want Morley going after Marian, despite him not being in good shape, because I knew I'd end up saving him and then he'd go after my other "friend" and I didn't have a lot of them at this point.

"Well anyway aside from your keen observation.  All was going well, he helped me buy influence with the other councilman and I kept his secret and even helped him with some preservation techniques (side note ewwwwwwwwww). And then someone killed him! Damndest thing to, they killed him, his guards and burned the entire manor down and no one in the Red Hand cared." Morley's voice sounded wet, like each word was being parsed through a wet towel, "And I thought that was the end of it, with his house burned down any connection to me was covered, and it was for years! I thought I was safe back in my homeland after the recent horrors of Ronerawth, but no I receieved a letter, and before you ask yes I live in a house not a cave, the legacy of Valrya is dead we both saw fit to that." I wasn't going to ask, ok I totally was.

"The issue wasn't the content of the letter, but what was on it, it was a simple 'I know' type in a normal font, but the letter was some kind of curse or poison, all I know is that it started this wasting disease and here I am, with you looking at me with horror enough to tell me how bad its gotten."

"Do you still have the letter?"

"Why do you have someone you don't like other than me?"

"No well yes, but no I need it to look at it." He produced it, I made sure to grab it with some tongs and move it over to my desk.  It didn't outwardly look evil or anything, but I made sure to keep my distance all the same. "Did it come in an envelope or have a seal?"

"No, it was just folded up." I couldn't see anything on it, it didn't feel magical or look poisoned, nothing wrong with the paper or anything.

"Did the person delivering it wear gloves?"

"You know come to think of it he didn't."

"I'll have to ask around with some contacts I have, do you have some time?" Morley looked at me with a scowl.

"Oh sure Trezlan I have all the time in the world." With that I took his letter sealed in a small metal container and went off to a couple not so honest contacts I'd developed just in case these kind of things came up (well it was more some people who dabbled in alchemy just in case I caught a disease that wasn't readily apparent what it was, look I go some crazy places you wouldn't believe the kind of things I pick up from such journeys!).  I left Morley shackled, though it didn't appear he had much strength to do anything, better safe than a necro snack.  Still it was quite a mystery and I love those, well I love them as long as it isn't me currently dying, even then its still a great mystery!

Where There's a Will, There's a Morley

"You shackled me." Morley was awake now, he did not look any better than when I'd see him the day before, but Morley never looks good, he's Morley.

"I brought you tea!" I had brought him tea, I felt it was a nice trade off.

"I come to you dying and you shackle me." Morley was barely able to climb over the side of the bed.  He truely looked near death.

"Couldn't find any honey, some kind of weird shortage, you know how it goes, you'll have to make do with sugar." I was trying to play down Morley's overreaction to being shackled, you know honestly I've been shackled so often its not exactly a rare thing for me. Not that I break the law that often... look ok we're looking past this.

"Glad to know what you think about me Trezlan, I come to you in my time of need and you immediately suspect me."

"To be honest Morley I figured you'd swap my life for yours."

"You think so little of me?"

"I'd do it to you."

"Fair enough, and I was planning on it originally, but unfortunately having a person along the way it doesn't actually fix anything." That was a rarity, this was one of the few times I've ever run across anything that Necromancy couldn't fix (the other things? broken heart, bad gass).

"So despite planning on killing me, you are mad I figured you'd do that?"

"Yes."

"Well at least you admit it, so Morley who did you piss off and what the hell did they do to you?" Morley looked at me sourly, took a long breath and then his story unfolded.  A shocking tale! Not really, it was actually par for the course for Morley, but you know how things go with me.  Also this is a nice stopping point for the tale.  Tommorrow I'll go over what Morley did, and sadly what we did to get him out of it. Yes I keep helping him when he's almost dead, I swear when he kills me these will pointed out to me by an unkind god.

Home For the Holidays

"You'll be alright Mr. Lorentino?" I was letting my staff take the holidays off (holidays, plural, starting around the end of the year there are six! Of them, from feasting, to celebrating the new year, to mourning the dead who didn't make the new year, I'd go over the holidays, but honestly who cares?) Before you think this is an overly nice gesture its because no one generally buys either guns or clothes despite gift giving being a big thing, so it was a cost saving measure made to look like a nice one.

"I'll be fine." I would be fine, during the holidays I just mainly kept the shop open for the person who ripped a pair of trousers right before some big meal and gouge the living gods out of them (see I don't entirely hate the holidays).

"Don't you have any family?" Tabitha and I always tend to have this conversation every year, its like a dance where both partners know all the moves.

"Nope they all died long ago, go Tabitha you'll miss your train." She gave me a small peck on the cheek as was our custom and picked up her belongings and made her way to the door.

"Just don't burn the shop down ok!" And with that she was off.  The burn the shop down thing was a one time attempt to try and put fire in a bottle.  I still maintain it would have worked! Just unfortunately as soon as I applied the fire to the flammable liquid, it exploded. And here I thought magic would help, alas.

The day preceeded like I thought it would, whole lot of nothing.  No customers, no complaints, not even a window shopper.  I spent the day reading a couple books I'd picked up from a passing merchant who claimed to be selling ancient power (I'm a sucker for a good story as I'm sure anyone reading this can tell) and drinking wine (beer is good for bullshitting, but wine will always be the superior reading drink).  So needless to say I was kind of wobbly in the late afternoon as the normal dark and cold settled in all over the city.  I was about to turn my placard from open to closed when a hooded man burst in.

"Sorry I'm closing up for the night, you'll have to come back tomorrow." He looked ragged, the traveling robes and hood he was wearing were frayed.

"Trezlan you have to help me." To my shock it was Morley, I mean I knew in a way he'd be back, but I hadn't anticpated he'd be back looking like he was fighting off the worlds worst flu. I kept my distance, when dealing with a wounded necromancer this is a wise thing, because as I've written before, you can be a solution of sorts for whatever ails them.

"What is wrong with you? You look paler and deader than usual." Its hard to look at someone who normally looks like a corpse and see something wrong, but Morley was so pale he was almost see through. Morley attempted to speak, but instead collapsed his frail frame not able to keep up with whatever had brought him to my shop.  I won't lie I poked him with my sword to make sure it wasn't a trick (didn't have a stick available, and if it was a trick well I wanted a better weapon than a damn stick). But he was out cold, in more ways than one. His body felt like ice as I carried him to my room at the back of the shop and shackled him in bed (look I was giving up my bed, I sure as all get out was not going to let him have magical abilities while I looked after him, he was dangerous as all necromancers are). Taking a place at my desk near the bed I watched over him, something was direly wrong with Morley, and I was pretty sure it wasn't just lacking holiday cheer. And thats how it went that night, Morley sleeping/dying, and me watching over him fearful of falling asleep and waking in the afterlife.

Don't you just love when family visits for the holidays?

Now Back to Our Normal Narcissicm

"Bring it?"

"And then I killed all of them."

"Bring it really? No one is going to believe that." And back to the future past (future of the story I was telling, my past as I'm writing, do keep up gentle reader).

"It's what I said, and who cares about believeability? Isn't that the whole thing with heroic stories that they defy imagination?" Marian had a lot of ale flowing through her at this point, I'm cleaning up how she spoke because it was a lovely combination of grunts and slurs.

"I don't really think its that heroic that you were blackmailed into murdering a murderer so that someone else who was probably equally as bad could take his place." I mean in that definition of heroism I'm the most heroic person who ever heroed and even I don't believe that.

"Look are you going to write that down or not?"

"Fine,'bring it' it is, no matter how ridiculous the idea is, so is that all you killed all the guys guards went back and got a job well done?"

"Pretty much, eventually I found my way south to Ronerawth and in kind of an interesting story I was able to get my families name cleared let me tell you about that..." It was not an interesting story, it was fairly boring.  Her family was accused of treason based on a clerical error, A CLERICAL ERROR! Someone wrote the wrong name down in a book of people who had donated to a failed coup and Marian discovered the actual traitor, this story took three hours to tell and had a lot of internal boring to it, seriously I wrote down for the next section back then (Marian can not tell a story, her parents died by clerical error).  The most hilarious thing was seeing the pardon letter by an undersecretary at the time apologizing for the mistake and any hardship it may have caused, sadly I didn't get the letter.

After Marian finished her second story she paid the tab and left me to "finish writing".  Which as I admitted to, I hadn't done very well, sadly I can't even blame it on liquor as I wasn't really drinking despite Marian's incentive of covering my tab, mainly because I kind of took writing thing seriously, even though I clearly didn't.  Marian would leave town a day later with not even a good bye.  She went off to do what mercenaries do and eventually was killed in the Red Hand lands, I heard it was for killing that councilman all those years previous despite being told to do so.  Such is the nature of politics and why I try and stay far away from them.  Tell you good job out of one side of their face, set you up to be murdered out the other.

The Big Chill

*Smash* Ice broke way under Marian's mace (note to self Marian's Mace, good name for a tavern potentially catering to women). The frozen body trapped within fell to the flood with a wet thud. Marian continued along the wall freeing the dead women from their frozen display cases, it had the desired effect the door behind her blew open with a shatter of wood and ice.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The councilman roared his voice almost too loud to understand clearly. Marian was waiting by the door when it blew open, her mace swing connected what she thought would be his head, but she misjudged his height and hit him in the shoulder. The councilman collapsed all the same (you try and get hit in the shoulder with a big mace and not fall over, well actually don't, because that could kill you), Marian tried to follow up his collapse with a shotgun blast, but the councilman put up a wall of ice between her and him and the shot impacted on it, but did not break it.  She was about to swing her mace again when an ice spear impaled her right shoulder and pinned her to a wall. The councilman got to his feet, his right arm hung useless at his side.

"You will be the start of my new collection!" His hand had formed into some kind of ice blade.  Marian acted fast first breaking the end of the spear off, and then pulling with all her strength to get it out of herself. The weapon in hand she impaled it into the councilmans eye. The iceblade instantly melted, as did the remaining ice in the room (I've heard of this phenomenon, something about magical things not lasting past the creators life, as a fire user its not something I run into, haven't set any ever burning flames, well that I'm aware of). Marian unloaded another two barrels of shotgun shells into him, just to make sure. She emerged from his viewing room with her right arm in pain, about ten shells of ammunition left, and bleeding from where the ice spear had impaled her.  Greeting her was the rest of Councilmans guard, about ten men.  All ready to kill her.

Marian grinned reloaded the shotgun and said "Bring it!"

On Flies And Parlors

"So they finally sent someone to try and kill me, and a woman even, someone has a sense of humor." The voice echoed in the building, it didn't seem to be coming from one place specifically but all places. Marian held the shotgun in front of her trying to check for the source of the noise.

"You've gone too far councilman, they can't hide your problems any longer." It was a lie Marian had no idea if he went too far, or not far enough, all she knew was she had been told to kill him or she'd die, not much of an option.

"Please they wouldn't tell you why you need to kill me, I'm sure they even threatened to kill you should you not try.  You are just their errand girl, and not the first, you'll mark their fifth failed attempt at killing me." Marian shot, a darkened cabinet exploded in wood and glass from the impact, the councilman was not inside. She felt a chill run down her back that solified into a block of ice.  It was so cold it burned, from the house laughter erupted. Marian dropped to her back and the ice shattered (see there's where fire is a boon and ice is just something for people who got the raw deal, personal opinion of course), she fired behind her because she doesn't understand how magic works (I did not say this opinion to her while she related this story to me), and of course just destroyed more furniture bringing more laughter. Marian realized she had to control the enviroment, so instead of remaining in the big open room, she rushed to a side room.

She ran in and slammed the door behind her, the room was lit by oil lamps like most places were, though it was a bit too bright compared to other rooms she'd been in, and Marian could immediately see why.  Incased in unnatural ice around the room were the heads and naked bodies of several women of various ages. It was so grotesque a scene Marian had to fight back a feeling of vomit. Whatever else was going on with this guy this was enough for Marian to want to crush the life out of him and watch him die.  And she had a perfect plan to do it seeing his frozen trophies...

All Manor of Problems

Marian is not a subtle woman.  I mean she's big for a woman, she swing a huge mace, carries a large shotgun, and has a presence you really can't ignore (as well as a horrible laugh, seriously this laugh its the worst thing). So the thought of her sneaking up on a manor as she described it to me seemed alien.  It would be like me saying I negoatiated something artfully, its hard to buy. Still since I did not witness this and I'm only reporting it second hand I have to go with her description. The Manor was thankfully not near any city enough to worry about random people walking by, which also provided a complication because it meant Marian couldn't rely on a crowd to mask her approach. Though she had a plan, a plan that even I kind of balked at.

"Halt!" The guard at the front was wearing one of those silly suit/uniform things that really rich people make their bodyguards wear.  I have no idea why really, it always looks ridiculous. This particular set also was dressed in bright yellow, or so Marian claims, she could just have been screwing with me.

"I have a letter from the Council, special delivery." Yes her plan was dressed as a mercenary with a large mace and shotgun to pretend to be some kind of special courier. When she relayed this story she was about half past drunk, so take this with the usual amount of belief you trust in me. The guard turned to look back for some kind of supervisor and that was the last thing he ever did.  Marian had hopped off her horse and using her warhammer as a bit of a crank snapped his neck in one swift motion. Unfortunately she did it in the middle of a lamp light and the guards were in position to cover each other with sightlines.  A shout from in front of her was answered with two roars of the shotgun (Marian was again not a subtle lady). Which only drew the rest of the guards to her position.  She quickly reloaded the gun and caught the guard running from her left with another double barrel blast.  The guard to her right found out that while not intended to be swung one handed Marian can still pull off the maneuver and splattered his skull all over the opening yard area.

With the jig effectively up she just decided to crash through the patio doors and bring the councilman down to just end the whole thing early.  Unfortunately as soon as she crashed through the doors she tripped a magical barrier (pro tip about antimagical trinkets, they are completely useless) and trapped herself inside. It wasn't exactly a huge difference considering she was there to kill the councilman either way, but it did make escaping/murdering everyone a bit harder.

"Welcome to my parlor fly." The voice boomed all around her and Marian knew just like everything else in life, things went from bad to worse.

To Kill A Councilman

"Kill everyone there." The judge was going over the plan for murdering the Councilman.  It wasn't so much of a plan as a directive.  He had the layout of the Councilman's manor, with possible guard patrol's marked in red, and best ways to enter circled (the patio had a double glass door entry that would be easy to smash through and see anyone on the other side). Also next to the plans was a double barrel shotgun with a belt of shells.

"You mean like anyone who fights back?" Marian had her mace returned to her, and she'd been gifted a couple supposedly antimagical artifacts to help out against any traps or runes he may have had inscribed in places.

"No I mean everyone in the manor, leave no survivors, burn the whole thing to the ground. We need to control the narrative, anyone who sees what really happened has to die.  I recommend doing this at night because that way there will be less people there, but its up to you." The judge was clam as he could be while pronouncing everyone to die in the building.  Marian caught the implication about night time, during the day there would be more servants and therefore more people she might have a problem killing.  She didn't ask about any family, already assuming she wasn't going to get out of this without being a child killer.

"Anything I should know about the councilman? What kind of magic does he use?"

"Ice, been doing it for years, though he's gotten up there in age and so he will be weakened in theory."

"In theory."

"No one said this would be easy Marian, if it was I'd have just paid some criminal on the street to stick a knife in his ribs, well I should say that would have been successful."

"Anything else?"

"Clock is ticking, you have a week to reach the manor and deal with him.  If you fail or run away I'll find you and believe me death will be the least of your worries." Again the chill, Marian had heard what the Red Hand can do to you should you upset them enough and it was enough for her to realize failing to kill the councilman and dying to his guards, was better than messing with this judge. Marian gathered the shotgun and the plans and made her way downstairs to the new horse they'd arranged for her.  She noticed no other guards were in the building despite several being there earlier.  All the more reason to fear the Judge, he was probably doing this outside of his own governments authority, and her failure would be all the more painful on either side.

It was night out when she set out for the Councilman's manor and there was a cold chill in the summer air. Marian feared it was a sign of things to come and as she tells me the story, she was absolutely right.

Red Handed Diplomacy

"Marian Ribiachi." The judge was seated at his desk, Marian was still in her armored tunic but her weapon was placed on the desk in front of the judge.  The room was fairly lavish, red tapestries with the Red Hands grasping fist proudly displayed along all the walls, the desk itself was a fancy wooden thing that appeared hand crafted with gold inlays. The chair he was seated at was high backed and matched the desk. Marians chair was a bit more simple, just wood with small padding.

"Never heard of her." It had been two years since Marian fled, but she had learned many times annoucing her full name was a bad idea.  Its not like anyone in the Red Hand territory would really care her father had been executed in Ronerawth for being a traitor, but it was better safe than sorry when dealing with any kind of authority.

"Oh please Marian, there is no need to hide your identity we are all friends here." He had stood up and moved to the edge of his desk.  Marian was seated but not restrained, but she could sense the power the Judge wielded was not one of martial strength.  She hadn't dealt with a judge before, but had heard of their abilities and didn't want to tempt ones wrath.

"Friends who murdered a fellow mercenary, took my job, and have me locked up here?"

"You aren't really locked up are you? No bars on your door, shackles on your wrist? No you are merely being kept, its a shame you got caught up in a kidnapping, but we don't fault you.  In fact we want to," He paused to think over his next choice of words, "Reward you."

"I'm listening." Marian was an opportunist, even back then, her loyalty has always been as far as her coin purse.  I can respect that.

"We have a situtation brewing with a councilman, he's becoming a little unhinged, his obsession with his niece kind of prompted this little show in the first place."

"And so you want me to talk to him?"

"I want you to kill him, before you react all indiginantly know that I have two seperate places I could send you, either Ronerawth to face the music for your father being a traitor, or our own prison apparently a couple years back a mysterious brown skinned woman murdered a couple guards and escaped with a known spy, now the survivors didn't get her name but I'm sure they could be coaxed into indentifying her if need be."

"Not exactly much of a reward killing a man." Marian was between a rock and a hard place, but she still wanted to work a deal.

"The reward comes after, but there's no point in discussing it with your task at hand.  You know of course I can't directly help you."

"Of course or you'd be open for your own government coming after you for murdering one of your own."

"Exactly, though after its done things will change, for country, for you personally, and for me, it all works out, once he's dead.  So we have a deal?" He extended his hand, Marian had a sense of hesitation like she was making a deal that would not be the easiest to back out of.

"We have a deal." She shook his hand and felt a shiver run down her back. It wasn't exactly making a deal with a dark creature, but it certainly felt like one according to Marian.  She still got shivers about that meeting even when talking to me about it.  Which sounds about right for dealing with anyone in the upper parts of the Red Hand government.