The Professionals, part one.
"We're trained professionals. Well, we're semi-trained quasi-professionals, at any rate."
On the afternoon of the 2nd of September, Jakob Fugger, together with a party of adventuresome men and animals, gallop through the capital city of Marburg, barely stopping for food, shovels, picks, and holy water, before taking the road NW towards Luln. What follows is a solo play report of their activities, activities which will shape the contours of the greater game for weeks and months to come.
Commerce is the great wheel upon which the world turns. From the fleshy fingers of slave traders to jewel-clad guild masters, the coin and commodities of kingdoms are controlled by merchants. But if the stereotypical merchant is the pot-bellied financier profiting from the work of others, the merchant adventurer is his opposite: An enterprising world traveler, he personally leads caravans into unknown lands, seeking out exotic goods and new markets. Every ‘venturer is, by definition, an adventurer, and interested in any expedition that promises riches and reward.
The son of an important cloth burgher, Jakob Fugger first sailed from the Holy Broman Empire to Karameikos nearly two decades ago to carve out his own fortune in the new land. He has since made much wealth and reputation, personally leading expeditions into distant dungeons, arbitraging food drink and goods to the growing realm, and becoming a fixture at court. Now approaching middle-age, the Merchant ‘Venturer is turning his wealth and ambition towards greater projects. His goal now is the hand of a great noble’s daughter. Wedding into the warrior-aristocracy of Karameikos will not only bring much wealth and land, but cement Jakob as the founder of a dynasty of merchant princes. This is his burning ambition.
However, Fortuna has not been kind to him, as of late. His close friend and confidant, Ebeneezer Scrooge, was recently burgled in the capital. Not only did the miser die of apoplexy upon the discovery, quite a sum of the wealth in his vaults was owed to Jakob himself! Furthermore, just the day before Jakob had lavished money and signed a contract with a certain Wilhelm of the Borderlands, who has now absconded with the initial investment.
In this medieval world without bitcoin, modern banking, or credit cards, capital must be raised with coin, physical letters of credit, promises made and kept. All this depends on presence and reputation, and the swirling rumors and lost debt around Scrooge and Jakob threaten that most precious reputation. Things get worse in the following weeks. Wilhelm is found, and accused of thievery. He demands, and receives, a trial by combat, which he wins against Jakob’s champion. By law, a failed trial must be paid for by the loser. Investments are made in the town of Kelvin, which is subsequently sacked by barbaric wolfmen. Jakob pays an exorbitant amount of money for a magical ring. Though flashy and powerful, and therefore much to be admired, Jakob’s finances are now looking shaky. There is also the dowry of his intended, and the wedding itself… expenses, expenses, expenses! Late one night, as Jakob ponders his options, he comes upon a solution.
The Barrowmaze. A great field of barrows in the west of the realm, its reputation is haunted, and filled with riches. Needing quick cash, Jakob assembles a few of his adventuring companions, leaves friends behind in the capital to raise more mercenaries, and gallops towards the ‘Maze. On the ride there, he comes across multiple merchant caravans. One of them is led by the merchant-sorcerer, Koschei.
Koschei’s people still cling to the Old Ways, though they have bent the knee to the Erzherrzog, and pay high tribute to be left alone. Koschei and his tribe attempt to remain relevant by arbitrage, trading their traditional pottery, mead, and furs for the silver of the grasping men who covet their lands. Koschei, ancient and yet hale and hearty, is immediately approached by Jakob. Surely a powerful sorcerer could be useful in the haunted barrowmaze? Though at first Koschei is unimpressed by Jakob’s small party, the quick talking, charming merchant soon convinces the sorcerer that wealth is waiting to be taken from the maze, not an opportunity to be missed! Koschei agrees, and leaves behind half of his men to follow Jakob to the ‘Maze. Luln is entered September 4th, and another man is posted inside the town to look for specialists and mercenary warriors willing to brave the depths of the ‘Maze. After a rather short night’s rest, Jakob and company remount and gallop towards the swampy lowlands, within which lie their fortune. Along the way, a group of surly, grimy woodsmen are found, who at first look as if they were wondering whether or not to shakedown Jakob and his men. Koschei sucks a lemon as he ponders with which spell to blast the impertinent dunces. Jakob, fast talking as always, makes a few quick signals to his men behind his back as he rides forward. Within minutes, the woodsmen are eating out of the palm of his hand as they are enraptured by promises of easy treasure and what they can do with it. Now bolstered by more than 30 men, Jakob rides on triumphantly to the little village of Hielichs, surprisingly busy.
Hielichs is located between the northern edge of the Barrowmoor and south of the Schwarzewald. This village was established a few decades ago atop the ruins of a much older settlement. The location affords access to water, the protection of the forest, and fuel supply in the form of harvested peat moss from the bog . The people of Hielichs are a mixed group . The remote location of the village, on the western edge of the known world and far removed from civilized society, means the townspeople are either hardy frontiersmen who make the village their home or scoundrels and knaves seeking refuge in the distant corners of the realm . The time of year also influences the village population. Summer, relatively dry, is the safe time for navigating the marshlands by intrepid adventurers. The rainy season in the fall and winter months turns the moorland into a treacherous quagmire. This year, however, two things are different. The locals are calling this year a ‘Traldari summer’. The hot weather and clear skies have shown no signs of abatement even as August comes and goes, keeping the moorland relatively navigable. Jakob is also surprised to learn that he is not the only adventuresome merchant in the borderlands…
Wilhelm Wagner is a man on a mission. He has returned from prospecting in the northern mountains with exciting news. IRON! Lots of it! Even now, his men are unloading ore by the cartful in Hielichs, with plans to sail downriver to sell more at the markets down the coast. This annoys Jakob greatly. How, exactly, can he expect to turn a profit when the labor market has been already bought out?! Raise wages? Ridiculous! His margins are thin enough as it is! Fuming, Jakob decides that the men and horses he has already brought will have to do. Looking for a man knowledgeable of the ‘Moors, Jakob finds the miller’s boy, Samson. Though he is not yet in his twentieth winter, Samson is tall and strong, a good shot with the yew longbow. He is given five silver pfennig and the promise of ten more, if he can guide Jakob’s expedition to and from the Barrowmaze. The following morning, September 6th, the animals are loaded before dawn, and Samson leads the way across the barrowmoors. The day is clear, hot, and uneventful. Before noon, Jakob and company stand before the unnervingly silent mists of the barrowfields.
Not even a crow breaks the solitude, here. For the past hour, men and animals grew restless, jumping at shadows and bubbling mire. As the mists thicken, even furtive talk of treasure and boasts grows silent. Samson is asked more than once if they should not back out of the ever thickening mists. His terse reply, barely heard, is “This is the way.” Suddenly the mists clear, and the leading men see an overgrown pathway, lined with small stone cairns, leading towards a large central mound. Other mounds can be picked out, closer or more distant. The central mound is encircled with standing stones. A large stone door rests face down, broken in two, in the long grass of the entranceway. The area is littered with skulls and bones. A foul smell emits from the interior of the mound and the darkness beyond is black as night. The sunlight reveals carved stone steps descending into the darkness. Koschei picks a handful of men from his retinue to guard the animals and the entrance. Many of the woodsmen also bravely volunteer for the safety of guard duty.
Jakob and Koschei enter with the following men.
Simeon, a contemplative and hesychist, a man of great faith and miracles.
Barrett, an old sea-rogue and swashbuckler, close friend to Jakob.
Bulvei is a cousin of Koschei’s, and leads a half dozen of his warrior kinsmen.
Ralof leads two other woodsmen, skilled with their hands and with silent footsteps.
With torches lit, armor clattering, and weapons drawn, they descend into the large room of the barrow. There are both booted footprints and other tracks they cannot make out. Bones litter the floor. Four huge square stone columns support the structure. Between the pillars there is an old, rusty six foot high tripod with a block and tackle suspended over a hole in the floor. A rope descends down into the darkness. Bulvei drops a torch into, and they see that they stand above a room with a 35 foot high vaulted ceiling. It has partially collapsed, containing rubble, bones, and faded frescos on the walls. This place is dark and very quiet. Shrugging, each man in his turn takes the rope and descends. Bulvei leads the way.
The group reassembles in the dark, dank pit. Torches are now their only light. A hall built of worked stone leads out of the pit, quickly divided into three choices: left, right, or center. Barret and Ralof opt to lead the group left, down another hallway. The scene of a massacre greets them. Over a dozen men lie splayed in death in the hall, quite bloated and decayed. With them are numerous, enormous insects, each a nasty shade of red in the torchlight, and the size of a small dog. Barret and Ralof poke at the remains. Impatient, Bulvei leads a cousin warrior up ahead, to a where a door stands in the hall. It opens towards them with a creak. Boldly they step through, only to be surprised by the stone block falling, and separating them from the others! As if by a signal, a door on the far side opens, and, screaming “ORCUS TAKE THESE SACRIFICES!” out rush nearly a dozen men swinging weapons and clad in armor. As once, the corpses of the slain in the hallway begin to rise and claw at the company of men. The battle is short and bloody. The rising corpses are quickly smashed to pieces before they can do any real harm to the men. When the stone block is pushed back, Bulvei and his cousin are covered in blood not their own. The Orcus worshippers were no match for the two of them, though Jakob wishes that prisoners could have been taken.