Accessory - Dragon Magazine #111.pdf - Index of

occasionally supported and assisted by
Alkus Alambar, the chief alchemist of
Jonholm. Romdril's sixteen years as mayor
brought new prosperity and security to the
city of Kelburn.
Romdril’s life came crashing down
around him in the Kelburn mayoral election
campaign of 1352. His wife Liana died
unexpectedly on December 14, a scant
eleven days before the election. Her death
devastated the mayor, leaving him vulnerable
to a political attack from his challenger,
Orian Flaloch. Running on an anti-magical
platform, Flaloch seized upon the archmage’s
grief as proof that he had lost his
alleged magical dominance over the good
citizens of Kelburn. Romdril succumbed to
his tragedy, stopped campaigning, and
virtually withdrew from public view, ensuring
Flaloch’s victory. Romdril retired to his
country mansion and has been seen in the
city on only very few occasions since then.
Flaloch’s attempts to dismantle Romdril’s
legacy during the last few months have not
met with much popular support. He has
threatened to remove what he calls “demonwork”
from the police force by dismissing
all members with magical powers or
items, but has not yet succeeded in persuading
a majority of the city council to back
him up on this. However, the police force
has felt the pressure and has sharply curtailed
its use of magic to avoid drawing
undue attention to the issue. The new
mayor has issued two edicts that are within
his power to declare and enforce: He has
cut off relations with Jonholm and declared
the magic-users’ guild in Kelburn to be
illegal, although no action has been taken
against the guild’s members.
The lessened influence of the police department
and the magic-users’ guild has led
to an upsurge in the influence of the
Kelburn assassins’ guild, suspected to be
under the leadership of one Andre Le-
Meurtrier. The combination of all these
events has caused a new breakout of conflict
between the assassins’ guilds of Kelburn
and Jonholm — something that Flaloch
does not encourage but by the same token
has not taken steps to prevent. It is in this
climate of turmoil and increasing despair
that the police department received Romdril’s
request for manpower.
You reach the mansion at 7:00 p.m. on
October 19 and are promptly led inside by
Raleigh, Romdril’s longtime manservant.
Romdril appears calm and collected as he
receives you, projecting a regal appearance
in his arch-mage’s robes. Romdril’s mute
bodyguard, Mok, stands stoically next to
his master. He carries a heavy crossbow
secured in a shoulder strap, a quiver of redfletched
quarrels slung over his other shoulder,
and a great mace dangling from a loop
at his belt.
Romdril greets you serenely, giving the
impression of being a man at peace with
himself. No trace of the sorrow and tragedy
that tainted the mayoral election can be
seen in his eyes or perceived in his de-
meanor. The arch-mage effusively welcomes
you as “members of the finest police force
in the world” and courteously asks for a
report on the status of his cherished city.
You briefly fill him in on the general state of
affairs and he frowns slightly as the bad
news reaches his ears, but then he suggests
that maybe something will happen during
this gathering to change the situation. He
then bids you to sit nearby in the inner
foyer and oversee the proceedings as his
guests begin to arrive.
The first guest to enter is Sandar Fleatis,
who was Romdril’s apprentice in days long
gone by. Romdril greets his former student
with a smile, which is quickly reciprocated.
Fleatis introduces himself to you, but there
is really no need for introductions; you
know that he has become one of Kelburn’s
most successful businessmen since the election.
This fact presents an interesting paradox,
because he is also well known as one of
Orian Flaloch’s most vociferous critics. He
has taken this stance in part because of his
personal attachment to Romdril and partially
because of his position as leader of the
magic-users’ guild, an organization that
Flaloch would gladly see disbanded.
Though Fleatis is twenty years younger
than Romdril, the brown-cloaked man
speaks with the same amount of wisdom
that his former master is renowned for.
The door chimes ring again momentarily,
and Alkus Alambar is admitted to the mansion.
The chief alchemist of Jonholm shoves
his dress coat into Raleigh’s arms as well as
his old bones will allow. Alambar, more
than eighty years old, is known for his gruff
manner and sometimes violent temper, both
of which seem to be in fine form tonight.
The alchemist barely acknowledges his host
with a grunt and goes off muttering into the
inner foyer. There he begins to cough and
wheeze, but soon arrests the problem by
swallowing a small white pill that he has
taken from a bottle in his pocket. Romdril
and Fleatis exchange sidelong glances, as if
they are concerned about the old alchemist’s
health. They certainly needn’t worry about
his wealth, however; Alambar’s black, sigilladen
robes are expensive-looking — clear
evidence of the fact that the alchemist is as
rich, and probably as powerful, as his fellow
arch-mage Romdril.
Once more the door chimes sound, and
Orian Flaloch strides regally into the mansion.
As usual, the mayor of Kelburn is
traveling without a guard; he is fond of
demonstrating that his faith is all he needs
to protect himself from the “machinations
of demons,” as he puts it. Flaloch deftly
tosses his ornate black jacket on a coat rack
and smiles thinly when Romdril dispassionately
welcomes him. Flaloch hands Romdril
a small metal box, identifying it as “the
documents you asked me to bring,” and the
arch-mage gives the box to Raleigh, instructing
him to put it in the master bedroom
for safekeeping. Romdril appears to
remain at ease as the two enemies exchange
small talk for a couple of moments, but
Flaloch has difficulty at first hiding his
anxiety. Then the mayor regains his composure
as he is introduced to your group, and
he utters an off-hand remark about the
motley composition of your team. Fleatis
begins to issue a response just as Raleigh
steps in to announce that dinner is ready.
Everyone prepares to move toward the
dining hall, and Raleigh takes the opportunity
to announce that the meal and the
service for his guests will be an out-of-theordinary
treat; a special cook, named Mennek,
and a highly recommended maid,
Enni, have been contracted for the duration
of their stay. The manservant adds that the
servants are well regarded in their home
city of Jonholm, where they have performed
this sort of special service on several occasions.
Abruptly, Raleigh is cut off in midsentence
by a fourth chime of the doorbell.
From your position in the entranceway to
the inner foyer, you can see Raleigh react
visibly, and quite negatively, as he opens the
door. Mok, his body planted firmly in the
path between the front door and where his
master stands, brings his crossbow to the
ready with impossible speed as the alleged
assassin Andre LeMeurtrier saunters into
the foyer. Raleigh grabs the man’s arm to
stop his advance and states firmly that
LeMeurtrier was not invited and is certainly
not welcome here. Just then, Romdril
claps Mok on the shoulder in reassurance,
steps out from behind his bodyguard, and
advances toward LeMeurtrier. He welcomes
the new arrival in an emotionless voice, but
with a thin smile on his face, and bids Raleigh
to take the gaunt man’s light jacket.
Another round of curt introductions
ensues as Raleigh, grumbling to himself
and shaking his head, goes off toward the
dining hall to have another place set for
dinner.
Moments later, you sit down for the
meal. Romdril begins the feast with a short,
cryptic toast: “To endings and new beginnings.”
Mennek brings in a sumptuous
meal of roast turkey and all the trimmings,
and everyone eats heartily with little conversation.
The tension in the room becomes
almost tangible as all four of the guests
seem to be sizing up each other. The unease
is broken as the maid, Enni, enters the
dining hall and informs Romdril that a
fourth guest bedroom has been prepared.
Romdril thanks her, resumes eating, and
begins to take a more active part in the
conversation. Romdril says that there will
be plenty of opportunity tomorrow morning
to deal with more weighty subjects. Under
his direction, the table talk turns to more
mundane, less controversial matters. The
occasion takes on a more enjoyable tone,
and time passes quickly. After about three
hours, the meal long since ended, Romdril
says he is tired and bids the rest of the
group a good night, asking them to reconvene
in the morning for breakfast. The
guests follow their host out of the dining
hall, are shown to their rooms by Raleigh,
and the house is quiet for the rest of the
night.
Your squad awakens shortly before 8:00
D RAGON 43