Romance of the Perilous Land - Session 03

11th August 2021

It's a Wednesday and we're round Simon's for the 3rd session of Matt's Romance of the Perilous Land TTRPG.

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​Location: Hykaria - Ascalon

Hykaria; Ascalon’s vibrant capital, well known for its industrious sea trade and commerce, sat upon a glittering coastline and was the jewel of The Summerland, the city welcomed a cosmopolitan population behind its resolute walls and soaring alabaster towers that watched over a sun-soaked ocean approach.

Narrow, shady alleyways cut through urban and mercantile neighbourhoods, criss-crossing wide thrumming white-paved avenues that ran the length of the capital and in one such shady alley was ‘The Hairy Fig’, a grimy wood and dirty glass fronted inn that nestled in an out of the way cobblestoned courtyard through an old archway.
It was here Colan, Titus, Trefor and Hobard had found themselves for the past week, nursing cheap beers in the small inn while sat at worn, old oak tables in a smoky common room poorly lit by dusty slats of weak light that streamed through shutters and was populated by perpetually inebriated patrons who scoured at distrusted outsiders.

While pondering their next action, our company was approached by a woman of middling years with drab brown hair, in a grey woollen frock, a look of  recognition across her face.
Introducing herself as Joan, she explained that the company had once in the past helped a friend of hers and now she went on, it was she who needed help.

Joan continued; Georgina was a friend of hers and had been taken to the ‘battle pits’ and was due to fight in four days. 

The battle pits were known to the company.
Extensive use of the battle pits were made by King Vortimer as harsh punishment; forcing criminals to fight to the death. The barbarism was a popular form of paid entertainment among the elite class of Hykaria who found it sufficiently cruel to slake their baying taste for blood.
The entire affair was managed by the king’s own gold cloaked guards.

Joan went on: Georgina, disguised as ‘George’ had been caught stealing some documentation from the residence of Baronet Philip, a distant cousin of Vortimer and considered to be minor royalty.
George had been accused of stealing information with the intent of harming the city and then slung into the pits.

Intrigued, the company agreed to help Joan.

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​The task would require some degrees of subtlety, Joan explained. It would be wise to avoid the watch, she added.
For some time, the company and Joan waited. The gloomy mote filled sunlight that lit the common room lessened before fading altogether as day darkened, replaced by tallow candle light.
Only then did they vacate The Hairy Fig when night had settled over Hykaria They headed into dimly lit streets draped in the blanket of night which were mostly empty, only the bars and major thoroughfares presented any activity which the company deftly circumvented.
The battle pits’ venue was well known to most but more importantly; the location of the holding cells were known to Joan.
She took the company closer to the capital’s centre and as they strode in, they saw spluttering fiery braziers give way to gas lighting which in turn eventually gave way to magical lighting!
Their journey ended in some tightly clustered neighbourhood of timber-framed townhouses that gave the appearance of leaning over them.

Behind shutters, a hundred eyes seemed to pierce the company as Joan gave a coded knock at one particular door while they waited. Swiftly, it swung open, she entered and equally swiftly it shut. The company was alone.
Two minutes and the door opened again, the company was waved in by an old man dressed in some sort of nightgown, consternation written in the creases which decorated the face of his balding visage.
Geis was his name, Joan told the company and he could get them into the pits. Geis warned them that their task would be a dangerous one.

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​Once Geis had dressed and pulled on a smock and boots, he led Joan and the company into a twisting warren of narrow and mostly unlit alleys, the moon was nearing its zenith in a cloudless starry sky as they reached a large rust-licked iron disc embedded in the paved ground at a junction.
The company knew enough of cities to know this was a manhole cover that would lead to Kykaria’s sewage network.

With some effort and the correct tools, the manhole cover was wrenched open with a metallic screech.
The company was surprised to find no smell emanating from the opened way. Before they descended, Geis handed a piece of vellum to Joan who in return nodded.

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​To the surprise of the company, the tunnel was exceptionally well constructed and was both wide and free of effluence. Whatever this tunnel was, it was not connected to the sewers, at least not directly.
Trefor uttered the words of a blessing and gesticulated, a soft but cold light radiated from his hand. The company marched onwards.

The tunnel led the company north-west, various branches and junctions materialised out of the darkness ahead, branching off into darkness. Joan ignored them, seeming to know her way. For ten minutes they marched without incident; then they saw glittering eyes in Trefor’s light, malevolently staring at them.

Rats were ahead, enormous ones too, which also had little fear of man. With animalistic pace the rats lunged. It was a short fight though, enormous or not, the rats could not withstand the onslaught of the company and soon they were defeated.

Pressing on, the company soon encountered the sprawled remains of some poor solitary soul who had not fared so well against the vermin.
Dead for some time, the cadaver had in part been consumed and what remained had decomposed beyond recognition. Even so, the company could identify the torn uniform of the city watch on the dead man. Whatever had possessed the soldier to enter these tunnels?
With little else of interest, the company continued, soon stopping at what Joan told them; was their destination.
A ladder led an iron manhole above.

Trefor climbed up and with a laborious grunt managed to lift and slide the heavy disc aside a little from his precarious position. Beyond the cover, it was unlit.
Peering inside, Hobard could make out the carved wooden legs, a table directly above the manhole. Further on, he could see some sort of bookcase lined with tomes. Was this some sort of workroom, Hobard thought.

To be continued.