Iron & Gold
Credits
This is a solo play-through of the adventure “Ironwood Gorge” by Eric Jones, published by Ludibrium Games.
Because I am not really an old-school guy, things have been converted to (originally) Iron Gauntlets by Precis Intermedia Games and after about chapter 6, Iron & Gold, also by Precis Intermedia Games. Where necessary, I use Mythic Game Master Emulator by Tana Pigeon, published by Word Mill Games.
This is the second Ludibrium Games module I’ve used for these characters, and I enjoy them. (The first was “The Sanctuary Ruin.”)
As usual, rules misunderstandings are mine and I try to present it as (bad) fiction, with game mechanics in footnotes. The italicized subtitles after the chapter title are prompts from Mythic Game Master Emulator; I try to work the intent into the scene. I am not always successful, but it keeps me a bit more honest.
“Ironwood Gorge” is meant to be the basis for a campaign, where the Bleak Tower is a home base for adventures. I have not yet decided whether I will do that; there could be additional Bleak Tower adventures, or they'll wander away until the third adventure in the trilogy is published.
18 — Mounting The Expedition
Vengeance Magic — Move Toward A Thread
Brede began barking orders as soon as they got through the gate. Felewin tried to help, but his arms were nearly useless from hours of holding the shafts of the cart and pulling. Finally, Brede sent him off to rest while the others emptied the cart.
He carefully threaded the way down to the dungeon, where the prisoners were kept. He had a question for Bodkin, but he was surprised to discover that Bodkin was not down there; only Vengis and the thief, Culwich the Black.
“Where’s the third one, the halfling?” Felewin asked the other two.
Culwich was doing press-ups and did not stop. Vengis said, “There’s no third prisoner. Just us two.”
“He should be! He’s a thief!” said Felewin, and rose to leave.
“Not enough of one,” said Culwich, between presses.
“Hey,” Vengis called after him, “tell them to include more treelet fruit in the dinners — I’m okay, but Culwich here is starting to develop black gum.”
If his arms hadn’t been so tired, Felewin would have made a rude gesture. As it was, he trudged up to the second floor, to the seneschal’s office.
Onomaclus was at his desk, writing. Felewin used the minimum number of honorifics allowed and then said, “Why didn’t you lock up Bodkin? He’s a thief!”
Onomaclus finished the sentence he was writing, set his quill down, and leaned back. “That isn’t proven, and in the meantime, he is literate and knows enough to help shore our building against sappers.”
Felewin squinted. “Sappers? No orc is going to dig a tunnel to undermine this tower. They can’t even manage a decent seige — we could leave easily.”
“They are cave-dwelling beasts, and we need to be prepared.”
“He steals things.”
“Do you have proof?”
“He tried to kill us!”
“Felewin, if I never worked with people who had tried to kill me, I would never work. If you don’t mind, I do have things to do.”
Onomaclus blew gently on the ink he had just written, hoping it would dry faster.
“At least the orcs let you know they’re out there,” said Felewin, and left.
At the stairs, the Lady Anwen called from above, “Felewin! Good man, I am glad to see you back. Is Kagandis here as well?”
“Yes,” he said. “She must be helping them unload the provisions. I am sure she will find you presently.”
“I hope so. In the mean time, I have a question for you. Can you please come up here?” Felewin hesitated, and she said, “I have some questions for you.”
Felewin sighed and became aware of Onomaclus having stepped out of his office and watching.
To spite him, Felewin said, “Of course, my lady,” and trudged up the stairs. He did not manage to avoid looking at Onomaclus first.
Lady Anwen welcomed him into her chambers; he entered but left the door open. “I was about to prepare tea. Would you like some?”
Refusal was impolite, but in truth, Felewin doubted he could hold a delicate teacup without his hand shaking from fatigue. “Yes, please, my lady.[165]”
“I would offer you sugar, but there is none.”
“It is all right,” said Felewin. His mother had insisted he practice: He had drunk tea with and without sugar, hot and cold, without insects in it and with. He sat as she made the tea, and noted with some concern that she shut the door. He accepted the tea, and left his leaden hands on his lap. With luck, he would never have to lift the teacup. That teacup would cost twice everything he had made as an adventurer. If only he succeeded in becoming a knight: with a title, he could own land and have an income.
“I am interested in the lore of the region,” she began. “Ultimately I want to understand what drew the wizard Stiggiswart to build this tower and settle in this reason. I suspect it was the Dwarf Roads that drew him—you are familiar with them?” Felewin shook his head negatively. “I shall tell you of them later; I am more interested in what you found.”
Felewin told her. He did not shy away from mentioning Bodkin’s band of adventurers, the orcs, and Odend. The only thing he did not mention was the gnome Ambrade Heardwhistle because he was not sure how much of that was his to tell.
“Odend,” she said. “I knew him, and I am pleased to know he lives still. He and my father were adventurers together. Together with Mord the Magnificent. Both Mord and Odend used this as a second home and a base, you see, until something happened. Over the course of a few months, Mord disappeared, Odend swore to live a life as a hermit, and my father…” She stopped for a moment. “My father became ill.” Matter-of-factly, she added, “I am sure that Onomaclus could give you the details but he won’t. So there is nothing for me to do but research the Dwarf Roads. And now I can talk to Kagandis!” She brightened. “But you haven’t touched your tea!”
“Of course,” Felewin said. Some feeling had returned to his arms. With great care, he picked up the tea cup and drank from it, careful not to break the cup. His hand did not tremble until the cup was nearly down, so he was safe for the moment. “It is excellent,” he said. It was not”excellent” but it was very good. He had complimented things for less reason.
She beamed. “My own blend, with a few goblin touches. I think Kagandis will appreciate it.”
In goblin, he said, “It is an earned thing.”
“Do you speak goblin, too?”
“Not really.”
“Would you like to learn?” She looked very….lonely. “I mean, you are nobility.” By which she meant I am socially allowed to spend time with you.
“I have no title, milady. If mine were a more settled people, I would be just barely in the peerage.” By now, Felewin thought, Onomaclus must be very annoyed. It was time to go. “I would like to learn, but I would not want it to be unseemly.”
“No one who matters will notice.”
“Then I accept your invitation, but I cannot start at this moment,” Felewin said. “I must help the others.”
“Of course you must,” she said. “But I will teach you the language.”
Felewin thanked her and left, backing out, as was proper.
#
Felewin couldn’t find the others in the pantry, the buttery, or the chapel. He finally stuck his head in the office of the tower warden, Stadano, and asked. The warden, a haggard man of middle age, looked at Felewin and glowered. “I told them to get out. Try out back.”
In the courtyard, the curate was tending to his small patch of garden, and Hrelgi was near him, clearly pestering him with questions. Ninefingers and Kagandis were watching as Uthrilir and Daerdun wrestled an anvil over by the corner. Daerdun had already set up a bellows beside the visibly pregnant nanny goat. (There had been a billy, a male, but he had been outside when the orcs arrived and hadn’t been seen since.)
“We’re helping Daerdun,” explained Ninefingers, as if that weren’t obvious. “Stadano, the steward, he refused us provisions so we can’t go on Uthrilir’s quest.”
“It’s not a bloody quest,” said Uthrilir.
“It is a quest,” said Hrelgi.
“Anyway,” said Ninefingers. “‘There aren’t provisions to let you go haring off,’” said Ninefingers in a squeaky impression of the tower warden.“‘We’re short-staffed as it is.’”
Hrelgi said, “We figure if we’re very helpful, Stadano will change his mind and let us have the provisions.”
Daerdun said, “You had an ulterior motive?” The blacksmith shook his head. “Enh. If a horse steps in the right direction, doesn’t matter he was preparing to kick you.”
“That’s the truth,” said Uthrilir.
“Long as he doesn’t connect,” pointed out Ninefingers.
Felewin grinned. “How can I help?”
“Well,” said Daerdun, “I’m building a portable forge in this box, and I need the clay tamped down, in layers. Use this piece of wood.” He handed Felewin a rounded piece of wood that had seen use.
“In layers?”
“I’ll put the clay down, you tamp it.”
“Where’d you get clay? This isn’t a clay area.”
“Had it buried in a leather bag under my shop in the Lair. Couple of years ago I walked down the river until I found a clay deposit, along the bottom of the gorge. Thought I had some in the marsh near the top, but it released noxious fumes.”
“You’ve been in the gorge?”
“Couple of years ago. There were dwarves living along the wall at that point. Small group. And then Lady Anwen questioned me for hours.” He shook his head. “Dwarf roads, she calls them.”
“You don’t believe in the—” and Uthrilir spit out a word in the tongue of dwarves.
Daerdun replied in the dwarven tongue and then in the common tongue said, “Stories for children.”
As the day advanced, Felewin and Daerdun kept moving to stay in the shade. The sunlight was bright and there was no need to have the clay harden before they were ready. The others continued to make sorties out to the Lair’s smithy. It took them four trips without Felewin to carry items. Once the tools were in, Kagandis had to go tend to the Lady Anwen.
By mid afternoon, the others were arranging tools to Daerdun’s liking and Felewin was finished boring out the air-tube to Daerdun’s satisfaction. Stadano the warden came out and found Felewin. In a staccato delivery that indicated he didn’t agree, he said, “The seneschal has ardered that you be given the provisions for a lengthy expedition into the Ironwood Gorge. You leave tomorrow at dawn or first opportunity thereafter. Come with me and we’ll get you kitted out. You’ll sleep in the palisade tonight.”.
No goblin lessons for me, thought Felewin.
Game Mechanics
[165] Alas, I didn’t have points to give Felewin the Etiquette skills though it would certain fit with his background. Let’s say he has Etiquette 2 anyway and Etiquette 4 in his father’s court: He knows how to be quiet when invited for tea, and so forth. That would be Etiquette 5≥ for him. He rolls a 3, which would make it even if I hadn’t decided to let him have Etiquette 2.
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