Chapter 7. The Inquisitor.   Posted by Guildmaster.Group: 0
Guildmaster
 GM, 223 posts
Tue 3 Nov 2015
at 05:57
Chapter 7. The Inquisitor
2nd Firnset, Moonday, Year 215
The Green Griffon Inn
Trader's Cross


The night is cloudy and cold as a torrential rain poured from the skies, drenching everything in sight. The loud pitter patter of giant rain drops slashing down from the heavens created a steady drumming beat on the roof of The Green Griffon Inn, a popular stopover for anyone traveling between the capital city, Asterleigh, and the Duchy of Aberhaven. Anyone caught outside would be cold, wet and miserable. But thankfully, Fredrick of Triesstead is warm and dry in his rented room, reading the biography of the great wizard-adventurer Ellamin Sepenthelm, whose exploits included defeating a Dragon through riddle, returning from the Abyss with a scroll of Time and escaping Giants with a gold enough to found the town of Serpenthelm. His exploits happened at least a hundred years ago, and who can say whether these stories were fictionalised or not, but it mattered not for they were interesting and exciting reads nevertheless.

As a child, Fredrick had many books such as the one he's reading now to fill his time. His father too was an adventuring wizard, though of no repute. But still, his father was a good man and it is through him that Fredrick caught the reading bug. Fredrick likened himself to a sponge, every ready to suck up every bit of knowledge within his grasp.

This boyhood hobby proved to be highly beneficial in his current job as Inquisitor. Though he had only joined The Order of the Silver Star last year, he had recently been risen to the rank of Inquisitor after serving as squire for only a short time. Usually, initiates had to spend at least a year under the wing of an Inquisitor Knight before they would even be considered for the role of Inquisitor and many, even after investing a or two years of their life failed the test and had to either quit the Order or take on other roles that needed filled.

And his first assignment as Inquisitor was to travel to the City of Aberhaven to investigate a burglary where the suspected use of unlawful magic had been involved. Ever since the great catastrophe known as the Masquerade Massacre at Aberhaven Mansion nearly six years ago, wizards and magic users had lived under terrible scrutiny. The sudden appearance of Abyssal creatures through the entire kingdom into chaos and the King of Asterleigh launched a massive military campaign to drive back the demons, close portals and root out rogue wizards. Many wizards resisted at first and were put to the sword.

The Order of the Silver Star was born during this campaign and though Fredrick's father had been one of the persecuted, Fredrick somehow found peace with working for the very Order that quite possibly ruined his life by killing his father, and forcing his mother and him to flee to the capital of Aster, Asterleigh, from their home in Triesstead.

Feeling the beginnings of sleep setting in, Fredrick placed a marker in his book and placed it on the nightstand. He was about to blow the candle out when he noticed his Path journal on the table. Feeling the need to check it once more before he slept, he crawled out of bed and opened the leather book, flipping to the final page of writing which now had new text.

Judging by the messy scrawl, Fredrick recognised it was a message from Althane.

"Guess what, bro! I'm coming with you to Aberhaven. Just got the word. I'll probably only arrive on the 5th and I won't have a journal. They said I'll be sharing yours. So, let's meet up at The Arena at 10AM, I want to check out those Gladiator fights. ~ Al"

OOC: Welcome to the game! I tried to come up with as much history as possible, but we can continue building on everything together. A note about the Path Journal. They are usually two journals linked by a Path spell and it allows users on either end to communicate with each other, regardless of distance, through writing. These journals are expensive and hence, Fredrick's copy was provided by the Order for them to communicate with you and for you to write your reports for your superiors to read.

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:46, Fri 06 Nov 2015.

Fredrick
 player, 1 post
Tue 3 Nov 2015
at 06:29
Chapter 7. The Inquisitor
Frederick, tired by the long day, has to read the entry twice before he fully processes what it says. The early morning had been filled with paperwork and the rest of the day with traveling, only being forced to stop when the rain became more than a drizzle despite there being several good hours of riding left in the afternoon. Lucky for him this inn was nearby. A few extra coins ensured him a hot bath and a bowl of soup at his leisure and now with the moon rising high in the sky Frederick considers his bed. He could send a reply but if the message was seen at all it wouldn't be till tomorrow if it got passed on. There's nothing to do but wait and talk to his friend when they meet up.

With that string of logic reaching its conclusion Frederick douses the candle still flickering at his deck, packs the book back away and settle down for what he hopes to be a quiet night. The pattering of rain helping to soothe him off to sleep.
Guildmaster
 GM, 224 posts
Fri 6 Nov 2015
at 15:15
Chapter 7. The Inquisitor
3rd Firnset, Airday, Year 215
5 Kilometres from Trader's Cross, Enroute to Aberhaven City
1 PM


The rain from the night before left the roads muddy and wet and Fredrick had a hard time keep his shoes and the bottoms of his pants from getting muddy as he led his pack horse out of the village this morning. But at least, he would be making good time because the weather had cleared up and by mid-day,  he was just a few kilometers shy from the city.

He had stopped to water the horse and take a short lunch break of bread and cheese when a traveler with his mule approached.

The traveler wore simple clothes and had a jaunty cap atop his peppered-grey hair. The middle-aged man appeared to be breathless as he huffed alongside his placid looking animal that was laden with goods.

"Good day to ye, fellow traveler," the man drawled, "Got to make my way back up to Trader's Cross, what a bother for these old bones. The storm last night washed out the bridge and looks like some folks are out there searching for a poor young'un who fell in. If you're headed that way you're probably gonna have to find another way."