Session 4
After Marcus & co realise that they don’t know Robert (the Covenant librarian) is going to be back from the Faerie party (Player M OOC “Well could have been worse, instead of a year and a day you could have been stuck in Faerie for a hundred and one years!” Player A OOC “Look, that only happened one time before. I was young and foolish!” GM: “And now he’s just old”) they decide a slightly different team will travel to Fudaris, to collect the magical books offered to Marcus ex Guernicus by an old friend of his parens – Buliste of Tytalus.
So Helena of Mercere, knowing the Normandy Tribunal well, agrees to take Marcus (native Frenchman, brought up in Confluensis) and Sir Frederick de Barfleur (again native French speaker) and Hugh de Neville (English, with 1 dot in French) to Fudaris.
They make an easy crossing of the English Channel in Summer 1221, leaving Mahult and their sole remaining Grog, Mitch to guard the Covenant. Travelling first to Confluensis, Marcus is remembered by his apprentice-hood friend Aristarcus of Guernicus. Marcus is mostly remembered for getting lost in the swamps around the stone rose shaped covenant, but its fond memories and much red wine is drank between fraternal friends.
Aristarcus warns them that a diabolist named Hercule ex Miscellania has fled Normandy Tribunal in the direction of the British Isles. As he has been Renounced, they should slay him on sight, if they encounter him.
Marcus asks about Fudaris and the ultra-competitive Tytalus (OOC “They are Winnerz! Tiger Blood flows in their veins! They may not be Warlock Vatican Assassins, but they are Warlock enough!”). The tale of how Buliste, Prima of Tytalus fell into a long Twilight and a successor named Harpax seized the Rod of Command and declared himself Primus of the House. Then a year later, Buliste awoke from Twilight desiring her position back and since then the two have warred endlessly in the halls of Fudaris, each trying to achieve dominance in the evenly matched struggle between them. The other Tytalus have fled until the Prima and Primus resolve the contest of Primacy between them – and its been over a decade so far!
Asking the Quaisitors about whether they’ve heard why no covenants remain on the south coast of England, it is mentioned that back during the Schism War, Normandy was a stronghold of the hated Diedne (spit on their name) and that Fudaris took Tribunal with Stonehenge instead. Also the hated Diedne (*spit on their name*) sent 3 Great Spiritsof Sea and Air to attack Fudaris, but the Tytalus there won the conflict and bound the spirits to protect and serve them instead.
Helena picks up some post from the Merceres at Confluensis and volunteers to carry the mail to Fudaris. After that they continue along the coast of Normandy and Brittany and charter a fisherman to take them to the Isle of Ushant. As they close in on the island, a sudden sea-fog rolls in, blocking out the sun. The fisherman starts babbling about the work of the Devil and asking to head back, but Helena stands in a certain way and says something foreign and a tunnel appears in the fog- Mogidell, one of those Diedne spirits has been appeased.
They then sail into a cliffside bay with a sprawling fortress above and great hanging ‘reverse’ towers plunging down the side of the cliff – the Domus Magna Covenant of Fudaris. The first trick is ascending to the top of the cliff as no staircase or rope exists to help them. Hugh and Marcus spont a Rise of the Feathery Body and float up (impressed with the Magic aura of 7 helping them make it work- fortunately the bay is still outside the Aegis). They then drop a rope and Frederick and Helena climb up. Helena remarks how glad she is that she didn’t have to free-style it again, and promises herself to pick up those boots of levitation.
Now at the top of the cliff, they are faced with a wall around the Covenant, pierced with a Dragonbone gate. Seeking entrance, an unseen voice, deep and gravelly resounds with “All who wish to enter must prove their strength in overcoming the challenges arrayed before them, and their wisdom in discerning the true challenge”.
With that, 6 the ground before the gate cracks open and 6 skeletons clutching bronze swords pull themselves out of the ground in jerky Ray Harryhausen-style. 2 quickly stab Hugh before he can flee into the air with another Rise of the Feathery Body. The grizzled knight, Sir Frederick is mighty in battle, shattering and severing bone with his sword, inviolate behind his shield and armour. Marcus ex Guernicus considers disbelieving with an Intellego Imaginem spont, but decides instead to throw a Perdo Vim magic ripper at two of them. His grey beams hit the skeletons and 2 vanish as if they were never there. Hugh considers doing using the Roadrunner tactic, the nearby cliff edge and his levitation spell to lead some skellies to their doom, but the pain in his gut convinces him he cant run so good. Frederick shatters the vertebrae of one, its upper torso crawling after him ineffectually. Soon, they are defeated, and Hughs wounds inspected. And with a supreme act of will (and a Confidence point) he disbelieves –and those two gut stabs are gone. While a little confused at how they penetrated the magic (but later learn that the skeletons were a puny CrIm species, but a Mentem (Corpus) effect was penetrating Hughs admittedly low parma to convince his body to manifest the wounds it perceived taking) they then turn to the gate.
Now they turn to the gate, which is within the Aegis. Unnable to unbar it from without, Frederick attempts to climb over. Cunningly Marcus positions some Unseen Servants to lift him up with a heater shield. He then scales the wall and unbars the gate to Fudaris.
Inside the covenant appears deserted, though invisible shimmers move around the place, Lost-style whispers at the edge of perception. Spiritual servants? Now within the Aegis of the Hearth, their magic is stymied (they guess a level 50 Aegis). Not sure what to do, Helena shouts “You’ve got mail!” and hurls the package of letters into the grounds of Fudaris, before retreating back to the fishing boat in the bay below. At a loss as to where to go, Hugh, Marcus and Frederick watch as the mail seems to float off the ground of its own accord and then move through the air at walking pace into the sprawling Covenant buildings. Shrugging, they decide to follow it to the recipient, thinking its 50:50 if it’ll take them to Buliste or Harpax.
As they follow the floating mail down the corridors, the trio find it getting it getting warmer and warmer, till the place feels like an open door to a blast furnace. Well it does to Hugh and Frederick, but Marcus’ puissant Parma is just strong enough (25) to block it out. Marcus scouts ahead as the others head back to cooler climes after seeing the mail yellow and curl in the furnace-like temperatures. It continues down a spirally staircase (a look through a window slit shows the bay below- they must be descending into one of the stalactite-like towers on the cliffs face). But at the bottom of the staircase is a corridor of magical darkness, though with a reasonable temperature. Returning to warn, them, Sir Frederick takes off his armour and drinks deep of his waterskin. Hugh and Frederick will race through the furnace like corridor and down the steps, Marcus ready to aid any who shall fall.
With a deep breath, they are off. For Sir Frederick, who has crusaded across the deserts of the Holy Lands, this is a familiar obstacle and he quickly covers the distance. Hugh de Neville is more a lover than a sprinter, and halfway along the corridor, he is overcome by the baking heat- he falls to the ground, exposed flesh reddening. Marcus scoops him up and with supreme effort struggles to the descending spiral staircase. But at the top, the weight is too much for Marcus and he missteps, sending both Magi flying forward down the staircase!
Crashing down the steps head over heel (till Hughs head and forearm cracks into a step for a medium wound, and Marcus breaks his thigh bone for a crippling heavy wound) the 2 Magi find themselves in a world of hurt. And a world without light. Stifling their screams, Marcus urges the uninjured Crusader to go ahead, as the Quaistor tries to use his scabbard as a splint for his thigh. Hugh is unconscious.
Frederick ventures into the darkness, and eventually hits a wooden door. Exploring and trying various ways to open it, he settles for swinging at it with his sword in the dark – Thump! Thump!
“Who is there?” comes a quavering female voice from beyond
“Sir Frederick de Barfleur. Open the door, my companions need aid!” calls out the lone knight
“I dont know you. I wish no callers. BEGONE” commands the voice and Frederick finds himself irresistibly returning through the dark to his companions. Conferring, they hope they might be close to their goal. Hugh is awoken and Frederick lays his cloak on the floor and drags Marcus onto it (to great screams of pain). Then Frederick (somehow still unhurt- Companions really are tough!) drags his cloak (and Marcus) to the door.
“Open the door! It is I Marcus!”
“The boy who smelled of wee?”
“Yes, thats me!”
The door creaks open.
In Bulistes sanctum, the aged Prima looks disapprovingly as Marcus is dragged in on his cloak – “Come on boy, get on your feet! Show me your strength”
“Its rather painful” says Marcus through gritted teeth
“Mind over matter. Conquer your fear and pain! Stand up!” she cackles at the man with a broken thigh.
With lips white with pain, Marcus exerts himself (with a Confidence point), putting his weight on his unbroken leg, he rises and hop-steps to the nearest chair, narrowly avoiding blacking out form the pain.
“Well done, young Marcus- thats why I always liked you. We’ll make a Tytalus of you yet!” commends Buliste, just one gom jabber short of being a Bene Gesserit.
“Couldnt you make visiting a bit easier?” groans Hugh
“Easier?” queries Buliste uncomprehending. Though she does agree to heal their wounds, advancing them the Corpus vim in trade for 11 pawns that they have on them.
After healing they make small talk and discovering more about the nature of the conflict with Harpax (apparently he has ownership of the environmental controls , which is why the corridor is like a furnace and other parts are plunged into utter dark/ Bulister controls the spirits that inhabit the place), and how each attempts to harass the other into submission (they are too evenly matched for certamen) , Marcus mentions that his parens had said Buliste had some magical books going spare which would be really useful for a new covenant.
“Indeed I do” cackles the Prima, and invisible spirits fetch down a succession of books from the bookcase and float them before Marcus’ eyes. Titles like “Magical Theories of the Elder Magus” tantalise Marcus, who eagerly leafs through them. Noticing also that all bear a sigil of a stylised ‘H’ within a triangle. These unrefusable books once belonged (or just belong) to Harpax, whose sigil it is a stylised H within a triangle.
“We are so dead” murmurs Hugh. “How could we even get them back to Stonehenge if Harpax figures out we’ve got them?”
“Thats simple” suggests Sir Frederick “We post them back to ourselves with Helena. No one messes with the Redcap mail!” (though Helena makes sure to charge them a pawn of vis for making her carry the books in her Mercere mail pouch)
Begging Buliste to distract Harpax with some boasting about how her agents have smuggled in her secret missives from agents and returned with new orders, they hope this will be enough to satisfy Harpax’s curiosity as they abscond with his old tomes.
And with that, Hugh and Marcus float down to the bay below through a window. Frederick strips down to underclothing, lowers a rope to within 20 feet of the waters surface and drops/dives in. Spluttering from the cold, Frederick swims to the fishing boat where Helena and the other Magi help the tough Crusader aboard. And looking at Sir Frederick, soaked to the bone in linen underarmour, Hugh suddenly realises that perhaps Sir is the wrong prefix to use. In her wet underclothes, Frederick has more lady parts than any knight should possess. Lady Frederick’s Dark Secret is revealed...
Uh oh.
End of Summer 1221
I just hope he finds it funny (or decides that the contest is who can give us the best presents :mrgreen: )
We have never had visitors of such category ourselves. Well, in Man we have the high councilior to the king and the king himself from time to time, but his domains are not as impressive, heh