Prospectus Logs #12: By Papal Decree, Part I +------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | Of a great ecclesiastical discovery, and what it brings. The coming of | | a Papal Legate, and the problems that his least outriders may cause. | | Also, letters, journeys, and death. | +------------------------------------------------------------------------+ Dramatis Personae: Docilli of Bonisagus Magus (Eric Rowe) Fabricarious of Verditius Magus (Chris Van Horn) Frangere of Tremere Magus (Eric Fulton) Lorum of Merinita Magus (Bill Filios) Risus of Criamon Magus (Dave Woo) Viator of Jerbiton Magus (Shannon as "Dave P.") Xanti Ex. Misc. Magus (John Tomasetti) Boy Docilli's Apprentice Esteve Grog-in-training Federico Calm Grog Juan Moralez Loyal Grog Julio Lazy Grog Marco Brave Grog Rodrigo Confident Grog Sergio Morose Grog Slim Sly Grog Stefan Angry Grog Torp Feral Grog Kadar Sufi Mystic Kadir Sufi Mystic Castello Nice Abbot Otto Naughty Templar Paulus Mysterious Papal Legate Gamemaster: Dave Pickering - * - Letter from Generarus of Plateau to Viator Scribed February 11, 1215 Delivered May 7, 1215 Viator of Jerbiton, I have received your letter requesting a pair of oculars which allow one to Discern the Images of Truth and Falsehood. I am willing to take this commision per the following stipulations. The instillation of the effect will cost GENERARUS OF PLATEAU, henceforth The Instiller, one season of effort for an enchantment which will be between the third and sixth rank as denoted below. Expected payment shall be: four pawns of Technique vis, or six pawns of Form vis, or eight pawns of Vim vis, plus any costs incurred by usage of vis or other materials, again noted below. This cost shall be paid by VIATOR OF PROSPECTUS LOCUS, henceforth The Client, and all costs shall be approved by The Client before construction is begun. The Instiller offers the three following possibilities for construction of this enchantment: A.) Enchanting a normal pair of glasses, in such a way that the enchantment constantly affects the lenses rather than the magus. Third rank, constant effect. (This is a limitation of the material.) Additional cost: two pawns of Intellego and/or Imagonim vis. B.) Enchanting a bone or soft stone pendant, in such a way that the enchantment constantly affects the magus. Between fourth and fifth rank, constant effect. Additional cost: three pawns of Intellego and/or Imagonim vis. C.) Enchanting a pair of glasses with sapphire lenses, in such a way that the enchantment constantly affects the lenses rather than the magus. Fifth rank, constant effect. Additional cost: three pawns of Intellego and/or Imagonim vis, plus an additional one Technique vis, two Form vis, or two Vim vis for the cost of the sapphires. Final ranks could be raised by as much as one if The Instiller experiments. The Client must authorize this and agree to take the results of the experiment as full payment even if they are flawed. Likewise, The Instiller must agree to turn over the results of the experiment even if it is extraordinarily successful. (signed) Generarus of Plateau Addendum: the cost of two pawns of Technique vis, three pawns of Form vis, or four pawns of Vim vis may be offset by a notarized statement guaranteeing The Instiller the use of The Client's sigil at the Iberia Tribunal of 1221. (initialed) GoP - * - Letter from Drake to Prospectus Locus Written in Crintera, Rhine Scribed March 24, 1215 Delivered May 7, 1215 My friends, fellows, and companions, It has been long months since I have written to you, but do not think my heart yearns less for home. I will soon be heading even further east, and so I suspect it will be long months before I return, but my spirits surge at the thought of once more seeing Prospectus Locus' mighty tower rising above the Ebro river delta. As for my doings over the last month: I have been delayed at Crintera for the most amazing reasons. When I arrived I found the Domus Magnus of Bjornaer in an uproar. When I asked about, I heard the most astounding claim: our founder Bjornaer had returned! My mind reeled with disbelief. The story involves two apprentices of Bjornaer, lost in the Black Forest and presumed dead. When they returned almost a year after their disappearance, there was rejoicing. The two apprentices described being taken in by a silver-haired wise woman who taught them many new secrets of shape changing. The woman never identified herself, but the description the apprentices gave matched certain ancient texts which discribed our founder. Further, the new knowledge that she taught the apprentices was undeniable. Each had gained a second heart beast, almost unknown in our house, and each had also learned how to affect only a partial transformation. Such things are beyond the knowledge of any Bjornaer today, and so when I arrived at Crintera the entire covenant was preparing great search parties to canvas the Black Forest. I joined an expedition, and helped search for a season. During that time, I spent much time with the two apprentices, trying to understand their new magics. It grieves me to say that both tasks were failures. Old Urgen has called off the search, and I have discovered I am too old to benefit from the new lessons of our founder. Now I am off to a small covenant in Novgorod called Nature's Teeth. I am most pleased to say that Urgen himself has assigned me a task of great importance to our house. When I am done there, I expect to return. This trip has done me good, and I feel more myself than I have in ten years. Drake PS: Tell Viator that I'm taking note of libraries, but that most covenants guard them very jealously. - * - Quaesitori Official Judgements Scribed by Barruch, Servant of Guernicus April 3, 1215 Delivered May 7, 1215 PRIMUS, Let it be known that the magus Darbo of Flambeau, formerly of Plateau, is wanted most immediately for questioning, judgement, and punishment in the case of the murder of Taniment of Tremere, formerly of Sader. The murder was carried out with a grog, and was the result of a heated argument, and so a Wizard's March has not yet been called, but any help at all in returning Darbo for approriate judgement will be rewarded. CODA, Rewards will only be processed after proper papers have been filed. - * - Letter from Grimgroth of Mistridge to Xanti Scribed April 7, 1215 Delivered May 7, 1215 Xanti of Ex Miscellanea at Prospectus Locus Your letter was received here recent and appreciated much for there are few who care of the doings of the Old Ones and instead say that they are figments of imaginations great and little more. Not true! They are entities real who still walk earth and hold within their hands old and ancient mysteries which may change our ways of life and death and living and few of us are wise enough to seek them. I am. Your presence would be most welcome if you wish to know more secrets of the Old Ones who still walk ably and I would be happy to teach you in these things which requires only your visit to Mistridge at your convenience though I suggest a soon convenience because before long I will go to join with they. Grimgroth formerly of Tremere now a Seeker at Mistridge - * - Letter from Generarus of Plateau to Fabricarious Scribed April 22, 1215 Delivered May 7, 1215 Fabricarious, You have not yet written me and must be quite busy. You have already heard of the latest atrocity. Darbo struck a poorly considered blow, but a righteous one. I tell this to you alone: Taniment considered our moving to Andalusia a betrayal of a deal between Sader and Plateau, and was preparing to certamen us into abandoning our new home. Is it any wonder Darbo had his grog strike the man down? Duresca and Sader both circle like angry Moors. Spread the word: we are innocent; Duresca overextends her old Quaesitori powers; and Sader prepares violence in the name of vengeance against we who have done nothing! Generarus - * - The Council Records Written by Boy at Docilli's Instruction It is May seventh in the year twelve-hundred and fifteen These Are Official! The magi in attendence are Docilli, Frangere, Fabricarious, Lorum, Risus, Viator, and Xanti. Five magi are absent. Aubrin is at Victrix. Drake is somewhere in northeastern Europe. Forticulus is off somewhere he would not reveal even when Docilli asked. Albus and Catorse are at a church near Barcelona. We had seven magi, and so that was enough for quorum which requires there be a majority. Because Aubrin, Drake, Forticulus, and Catorse are all gone, Frangere was the one who called the meeting to order. Mostly the meeting was just for announcements. XANTI said that he was leaving for Mistridge, which is in the Provencal Tribunal. The leader there, named Grimgroth, invited him to come learn about the Old Ones and Xanti agreed. Risus was interested too, but too busy on his own studies, but he may try to go later. DOCILLI brought up the wise and thoughtful suggestion of us building another lab outside, especially for those people that visit us. We still have to finish building our new three-story lab building inside, so this will be a long way off in the future, and the magi didn't actually vote on it, but just said it sounded like a good idea, and Docilli said he would bring up this useful issue again later. VIATOR brought up some suggestions of creating magic items to help mundanes teach their skills, but the topic degenerated into a discussion of the intricacies and limitations of Hermetic magic, and no vote was ever called on it. After that the council was called to a close, and it was a somewhat solemn affair, because with six covenant members gone, no more council meetings can be called until someone returns. - * - By Papal Decree, Part I A Story in Prose KADAR. May 10, 1215 =================== Having finished packing his meager possessions, Kadar considered the covenant he was preparing to leave. It seemed much the same as it had been when he arrived. No new aura of enlightment surrounded it, no fresh understanding. Oh, some people had attended his classes, magi and mundane alike. They learned Sufi philosophy and wisdom. But it was out of obligation, not desire, and no enlightenment can be forced. Kadir appeared at the door and without another word the two left the domicile behind. It was just a short walk through the courtyard and then out the gate, past its lazy guardian. The two Sufi were walking along the causeway risen so recently from the Ebro's grasp when Kadir raised his hand to point north. Kadar saw it too, a dark presence hanging over the landscape some hundred miles north, toward Barcelona. He nodded his head, for it was apt. As the kind religion of the Sufi returned south, it would be replaced by harsh teachings from the north. It was the balance of life. Perhaps if the members of Prospectus Locus had learned more deeply it could have been averted, but now it was too late. JULIO. May 16, 1215 =================== Julio stood stiffly at alert. Rodrigo's sharp words still hung heavily on his mind, and he was determined not to betray the trust of his turb captain. Especially not since Rodrigo had threatened another trip to Oviedo and back if Julio was caught sleeping on duty again. Julio's dog had turned deaf ears to Rodrigo and still dozed at his master's feet. When Esteve came running toward the covenant, Julio was awake and alert, genuinely getting the hang of this keeping-watch-thing. Esteve brought bad news. He spoke of a band of weird, armored churchmen in town. He said that they were causing troubles: breaking things, demanding food and wine, and kicking peasants who didn't move fast enough. So, at his father's instruction, Esteve had come to alert the covenant. Julio frowned. Standing guard, even staying awake while doing so, that he could deal with. But, he balked at what to do about abusive churchmen in Bercula. Clearly, this _must_ be magus business. Shouting "Stay!" to the boy and dog, Julio ran into the covenant to alert Frangere, the elder in residence. MARCO. May 16, 1215 =================== Whistling cheerfully to himself, Marco checked his morning star, then smoothed down his studded leather. He noted his fellows doing the same while Federico looked on with approval. With a group of Templars in Bercula's inn, it was only prudent to be prepared before entering. When no one was watching, Marco quickly ran two fingers over his nose too. Still short, thank God. The journey to the Goddess' realm, that had not been a trip that Marco had appreciated. Finally, Federico gave an impatient wave, and the four of them entered the inn: Federico, Sergio, Stefan, and Marco. It had been deemed prudent to send a small advance force in while Viator waited nearby with the rest of the magi and grogs. The fear had been that the Templars might be led by Clement, seeking revenge for the retaking of the Napkin of God almost a year before. As Marco scanned the room, he was pleased to see that was not the case. There were four Templars in the room, and with them two men-at-arms. One Templar sat square in the middle of a table. His fellows were scattered about. They were all strangers; none had been members of Clement's band. The peasants in the inn looked cowed, perhaps even afraid; Marco knew that under Aubrin's benevolent protection there were unused to the abusive treatment that they were clearly receiving. The Templars all turned to look at the grogs. Marco did his best to look competent and stout while Federico cleared his throat to speak. Then, suddenly, the stillness of the room was broken by the sound of a table hitting the ground. Marco jerked his head about in surprise, and in the same instant his hand went to his morningstar. He saw what had happened in his instant. Stefan was looming over a Templar, a dumb smile on his face. The Templar had taken the action as a threat, and so had thrown his table to the ground, and was now drawing his sword. The other Templars began to stand and go for their blades as well, but then Federico's voice cut across the room. Marco felt his eyes drawn inexorably to the grog lieutenant as he talked; he knew this was the result of Viator's magic, but that made no difference. "Everyone step back!" Federico shouted. And, they did. The grogs jumped back at the command while the Templars carefully shied away. There was another moment of uneasy silence before Federico broke it again. "We are here representing the local lord," he said. "We have come to see what we can do for you." The Templar leader eyed Federico warily for a moment before returning his weapon to its sheath. "I am Otto," he said, and with that most of the tension went out of the room. Marco breathed a sigh of relief. Most of his fellows still considered him green because he hadn't fought many battles. Though he wasn't afraid to fight when required, he was happy that he wouldn't have to prove his worth today, against these well-armed and armored churchmen. Federico and Otto talked for several minutes. The Templar wished to see the lord of the area, and Federico assured him that was possible. Marco smiled, for he was sure that even now Torp was reporting that fact back to Viator, so that the mage could be properly attired by the time the Templars reached the covenant. Further conversation revealed that the Templars were frontmen for a large delegation that was on a special mission for the Vatican, but Otto refused to reveal more until he spoke with the lord. Marco truly began to relax when Federico bought a round of beers for everyone. The Templars were arrogant and uncouth, true, but maybe they were so bad; after all, they did drink beer. BOY (BETRANDUS). May 16, 1215 ============================= During a lull in the discussion, Boy carefully underlines the words "Unofficial Council Meeting", once, then a second time. He is very pleased to be here, at the council meeting, keeping its records while Lucindia is away. Prospectus Locus is not at all like Interritus, where his Flambeau master used to lock him in a closet with the book on magic theory, a single candle, and instructions that he had better finish 50 pages before the tallow burned down. Docilli has not once locked him in a closet, at least not yet. Docilli, Boy's kind new master, has begun to speak now, and Boy carefully writes down every word: "I'd prefer to burn down our village, close our doors, and wait for them to leave." Boy underlines "burn" because Docilli put extra emphasis on that word, then smiles at the result. He wonders for a moment if it is odd to have the unofficial council records be so full of quotes from Docilli, but then shrugs; he can't help it if no one else is saying anything interesting. The magi have been meeting half an hour now. There are actually only four of them left, for Risus has grown bored and returned to his lab, and Fabricarious has mounted his house to go and speak with Abbot Castello. It all began when the Templars came to speak with Viator, or rather Lord Paulo. Boy regreats that he was not there to record that meeting, but he has learned what went on. Perhaps he should write it into the covenant logs later; Docilli would be pleasantly surprised. The Templar Otto apparently had presented himself to Lord Paulo as the speaker for Papal Legate Paulus. The Legate was coming to the Ebro delta on some mysterious but important mission, and Lord Paulo was to offer all requested hospitality to the Legate and his men. And that was what had started the whole discussion. Boy would almost call it an argument, but he knows Docilli does not argue: he only debates and presents points of fact. The magi are at odds over what problems this Legatial visit will cause. Docilli believes the covenant should retreat totally. Lorum suggests that the magi should drive the churchmen away with bad smells and bad food. Frangere thinks that the churchmen can be killed. Viator tries to balance the long-term danger of scorning the church against the short-term danger that the Templars pose to the peasants; he suggests that perhaps the legate can be bribed to quarter his men elsewhere. When Docilli speaks, Boy again records every word: "I can just take all the peasants on a two month vacation." Such wisdom! But the other magi are unable to see it. Boy is amazed by how much the magi care for the peasants. He is not surprised that Docilli places that matter forefront, but Viator does too, and the other magi seem to accede. Already, the grogs have been dispatched back to Bercula, to gather the women and children, so that they can be protected against feared Templar atrocities. Boy hopes that it will be enough. Docilli opens his mouth and Boy begins to write again. He is sure that there will be no resolution until Fabricarious returns with word from Castello--an explanation of why this Legate is coming--but in the meantime, much wisdom will be spoken. CASTELLO. May 16, 1215 ====================== Castello rubbed his fat and sweaty hands together as he spoke. "It is a great, but secret discovery that we have made. That is why the Legate comes here." He smiled, but would say no more, not even when the mage begged to know everything. Castello had already shown these magi the power of faith, and it had affected them not at all, not even when they saw base lead turned to pure gold. He wondered for a moment how they would react when faced with the far greater faith of a Saint. Fabricarious had begun to talk about Bercula now, worrying about the Templars quartering there. "I expect they will stay for a long time," Castello said. "Some will likely stay in Bercula." Frowning for a moment, Castello thought of the problems that might cause. Most churchmen were of a less loving temperament than he, and might try harsher means to convert the heathen. Then, after just a moment, Castello's frown faded away like the last wisps of fog in morning; God would provide. Fabricarious stood to leave, but then Castello gestured him to sit back down as he put a teapot on the fire. There was still plenty of time to talk, no need to rush. SERGIO. May 16, 1215 ==================== Sergio eyed the Templars with suspicion. He and the other grogs had cleared most of the women and children from Bercula, but there was still the matter of the nine of so women at the inn: the innkeep's wife, and a number of ladies who had been taken by the Templars as "companions". They did not appear happy about the situation. Federico had left Juan Moralez and the rest of the men to watch over the inn while he escorted the other women back to the covenant. Sergio stood steadfastly with his fellows. It was Otto who broke the silence, his impatience with the grogs clear on his face. "You boys can run along now that you've done you're errand," Otto said, gesturing to the food that the grogs had brought down from the covenant. "No," said Juan Moralez, and then when he saw anger light the Templar's eyes, explained further. "Our lord has ordered us to remain here." Indeed, Viator had ordered the grogs to stay and make sure none of the women in the inn were being abused by the Templars; by the liberties the Templars were taking, it seemed a wise precaution. When Otto rose to his feet Sergio felt for his long sword at his belt. It was an old friend, and he was well skilled in its use, but he preferred to avoid it when possible. When Otto grabbed Juan Moralez by his over-sized shirt and began to yell, Sergio knew that a conflict was very near. He sized up his opponents. Four Templars and two men-at-arms, arrayed against the covenant's six grogs. However, the Templars and their men were well-armed and well-armored while the covenant's grogs were a mixed lot. Torp was a tracker and Slim a thief. Both Marco and Julio were still green. Sergio only had faith in himself and Juan Moralez to hold their own against the churchmen. The argument grew heated. Juan Moralez yelled for the peasants in the inn to leave. Otto continued to threaten the grog leader. Then Juan Moralez shouted the words that Sergio had dreaded to hear. "Draw your weapons!" This was going to be a very bad fight. Pulling his sword and shield, Sergio moved to engage a Templar. All about him he saw his fellows doing the same. Out of the corner of his eye, Sergio could see the peasants taking the opportunity to flee. Sergio was pleased to discover that his fellows fought better than expected. Both Torp and Julio were exceeding his expectations, managing to hold their own. Slim and Marco, however, were not doing as well. Neither shortsword nor morning star was a particularly defensive weapon, and defense was called for, as the grogs tried to hold the Templars until the peasants were all gone. Within seconds Slim and Marco had each taken blows from their foes, and their tunics had begun to dye crimson red. Finally, the room was clear of peasants, and Juan Moralez shouted, "Fall back, slowly, to the door." Sergio was impressed with Juan's leadership skills, as the warriors carefully began to back toward the entrance in a semi-circle. But, it was too late for Slim. As he took a few hesitant steps backward his foe sensed an opening and plunged his blade deep into Slim's body. The elderly thief fell lifelessly to the ground. While the remaining four held the door, Torp was ordered out. He ducked back through the door, and the semi-circle closed tight behind him. It was a costly escape, though, for in the same moment Marco dropped, gutted, his more skillful foe finally have overcome him. Sergio noted that they were now outnumbered two to one. At Juan's command Julio fled next, and Sergio and Juan fell further back. Only four could attack them now. Sergio's blade and kite shield gyrated through a desperate dance to deflect the incoming blades. "I'll see you back at the covenant," Juan said and then he ducked through the door. Taking another step back, Sergio was forced to defend against three opponents. He blessed his years of experience as he held off the onslaught. Sergio realized that his remaining opponents were going through the windows, and that very soon he would be surrounded. Still, caution won the day. He took another step back and won the safety of the doorway. Then he was forced to defend against another flurry of blows. Chips flew from Sergio's shield and from the wooden door frame. His arm felt numb. By then, Sergio knew that one opponent was behind him. It was his last chance to escape. He offered a feint to the foe who stood in the doorway in front of him, and then Sergio turned and ran, dodging past his final assailant. The short distance to the protecting walls of the covenant had never seemed so long. TORP. May 16, 1215 ================== Torp traced the hoofprints of the horses in the hard earth of the road. The Templars had fled north. Perhaps they went to the monastery. Or perhaps that was where the legate's force lay. Torp did not care; it was his job to discover facts, not draw conclusions. It was very lucky that the Templars had fled after the grogs had withdrawn. They clearly expected reinforcements from the covenant; it was fortunate that they did not know what a poor state its defenses were in. With Marco and Slim confirmed dead, there were only eight grogs left in residence. And the four eldest magi were all absent, besides. Torp worried for a moment more as he loped back to the covenant, but then decided that his worries were unwarranted. No matter what came next, the magi would know what to do. They always did.