Sheryl A. Knowles - Paper & Pixels tarot card




Tarot Campaign

990422          "Artificers"

[The Players were in some disagreement as to where we last left our heroes, the previous game having straggled on past the point some had left physically. (I had left mentally, obviously...:-)]

Back In Time.
Claire asked the Magician which of the Arcana was our Duke. The Magician seemed a little nonplussed --as he had been when asked about the new appearance of the Duke's city. "Sounds like a city," had been that reply. This one was, "Which duke? I don't think that he's an Arcana."

A few more points were re-capped by Anton:

Being joined en-route by Claude and Georges, the Party and the four foresters headed back to the Duke's town. As the group topped the ridge from which the town could first be seen, the foresters halted in amazement. Although the Party had told them of the changes therein, seeing was believing. Paris asked Kivan if he'd prefer first to stop by the Inn of the Three Stars, but the forester agreed that they should go straight to the Duke with their findings.

The Run Commenced.
At the palace, the name "Citizens of Jouet" was taken down and the Party plus foresters were led through the palace. As they passed through the Great Hall (which the current duke seems loath to use), the observant noticed that the Duke's blue banner had been joined by a green banner - albeit the devices of both were hidden in the limpness of draping from their flag poles. On they were led, into the smaller reception hall that the Duke has used previously. There they joined a line of petitioners awaiting the Duke's attention.

"Citizens of Jouet," said the Duke as the space ahead of the Party cleared. He looked around and said, with only a slight hesitation, "with Paris and Red?" Paris stepped forward. "My lord, we have brought you a book which will aid you with your armor." She looked at Claire who had kept possession of that book. Claire stepped forward and started hurriedly giving an account of the meeting with orcs and Magician and her request for this book to be written. The Duke seemed interested in the orcs particularly but, when Claire actually handed him the book, he placed it very carefully in the crook of his shield arm and looked immensely pleased. "You say," he said, "that this will help me learn to control my armor ..?" The question was almost a statement.

Paris stepped forward again. "Yes, my lord. And ...." Paris looked at Calais and said quietly, "Please give me three cards." It is possible that Calais heard the statement as "the cards" for he answered more audibly and with obvious emphasis, "Here is YOUR SHARE." Calmly Paris turned back to the duke and handed him the silver cards. "These, we think, may help you in using that book, my lord. One holds the card between two hands and concentrates on what it is one wants to learn."

Meanwhile, the Duke's priest, who this time stood near the Duke's left hand, started staring intently at Mia in her rainbow robes.

The Duke asked, "How did you come by these cards?" Various of the other Party members chimed in with their own accounts of the battles with orcs and, for a moment, Paris felt overwhelmed by the bedlam. Someone in the Party called out, "We were told they are created by good deeds." All of the other books were brought out and presented to the duke -- with Mia making the specific request to be allowed to read the Water Magic book as soon as possible. When the noise died down, Paris turned back to the duke. "To answer you question, sir; my brother Calais searched the orc bodies and found the cards under some of their armor."

The Duke gave an odd little smile. Then he motioned forward a page with a box. As he opened the box, he spoke somewhat musingly. "I have heard that the cards are created by good deeds, therefore," he turned and held his hand out to Paris, "take back your cards. I believe you have earned them. And," he lifted the lid of the box to reveal that it contained similar silver-backed cards, "because you were willing to give them, I want you to take three more." With a smile, he handed those cards, too, to the dumb-founded peasant girl. She could barely stammer out her "Thank you, my lord." Then the duke commanded his steward to take the names of the Party and granted them an entitlement to use the library that had been building in their absence. Smiles of excited triumph passed amongst the mages.

The Duke turned to the young courtier on his right. "What did I tell you, William?" The dark-haired youth, magnificently dressed in green stepped forward, smiling. He approached Paris who found herself riveted by the fact that upon his chest he bore a golden mate to the sword-and-scales symbol she herself wore. The young man looked away from her and said, "And Red...."

"Rhori, my lord," Paris almost whispered the correction.

"Rhori," the courtier said smoothly, "I would have you meet my Master of Swords, Silverlocke." A much older man in even darker green stepped forward to greet the young giant. His once dark hair was now sprinkled with grey and it was clear that his sobriquet came from his completely white forelock. All could see that Silverlocke wore upon his shoulder a symbol twin to Red's -- but in gold.

The young courtier continued, "When our Duke's request for more food was sent by caravan, my father sent me to see what was happening down here."

The colour faded from both Claire and Paris' faces at these words. There was only one "father" whose son would rank high enough to "check up on" a duke. This young man was Prince William!

Oblivious, Red moved forward and dropped his load of orc weaponry before the three noblemen. "You wanted orc swords," Claire tried to explain. Brillig grunted, "Once an idea gets into Red's head there is no changing it." The Duke smiled at the boy. Almost gently he said, "I have enough orc swords now, Rhori. I do not need any more. Thank you." Then the Duke straightened and spoke loud enough for all to hear, while he looked the boy-ranger in the eye. "Mr. Rhori, I would like to ask your help. Silverlocke is going to be journeying to the north. While the orcs ruined our villages and then left, it seems they have stayed in the north. I would very much appreciate your helping Silverlocke scout them out. By the look of you, you are a good fighter."

William spoke. "While Silverlocke has always been good in the woods, once we found some of those cards, his ability to move silently in the forest is down right scary."

Paris said quietly. "Rhori is good, my lord."

The prince turned back and gave Paris an appraising look. He spoke, seemingly to the duke -- or perhaps the air between himself and the peasant girl. "The Council will have quite a problem with this." Then, almost to himself, "My elder sister was quite formidable." He seemed to come to some decision within himself. Looking directly at Paris, he said, "Would you learn more?" "Y-yes, my l-lord!" Amazement and joy almost blocked Paris' ability to answer. "Then be here in the morning and prepare to practise for the next week." Dazed with wonder, Paris scarcely noticed as the Duke turned the questioning back towards the Party's adventures.

The four foresters told their stories. Anton told a tale based on all the information the Party had gleaned in its discussions with the Magician. The Duke commented that many people were likely to seek out the Magician once the Party's story got out. Anton avowed that they would not find the Magician. This grabbed Paris' attention and a slight frown creased her brow. 'What,' she thought, 'would make Anton think or say that? The powers he had absorbed from the cards must have given him a great deal of knowledge that he had not yet described; he has been so certain since then that all his views were the correct view.' Paris shoved the peevish idea aside and concentrated on the Duke and Prince... stars in a firmament she'd never dreamed of touching. Her cards were still in her hand.

When Anton had finished, Brillig pulled him aside and whispered at him. Anton turned back to the lords. "My companion asks if you would tell us how you got your powers? Did you find a Font of Chaos? Or was it the silver cards?"

Prince William laughed. "While we were traveling with the caravan to your Duke's, Silverlocke and I happened to pull aside and managed to rescue a young lady from more of those orcs and one even larger -- an ogre. We found some ornate cards near the young lady. And..." his shrug was eloquent.

As the audience neared an end, the Duke asked if the Party would have silver coins or more cards as their reward. All the vocal Party members took cards. The Duke gave out 2 cards each. Claire remembered to tell the Duke of the ox rental and, very seriously, he had 25 coppers counted out to pay for the ox.

Right at the end, Calais steeled himself to beg a boon of the Duke: to study with the Duke's artificier. Gently the Duke explained that many have now asked to study with and -- help -- his artificier. But due to the trust and long-standing relationship between the artificier's line and his own, he hoped Calais would realize that it was not possible to easily bring new people into such a significant position of trust. Paris, understanding what the duke meant, looked at her frustrated twin and said, in a low voice, "Another time, my brother. Another time." Some in the Party may have wondered why she did not choose to use her apparent new status to vouch for her brother.

By this time Mia had noticed the priest's stare and tried to return it with a glare of her own. In just a moment, though, she scuttled like a scared mouse from the chamber, followed by the rest of the Party.


Paris turned to Kivan. "The Three Stars?" Grinning but anxious, the young man nodded. The Party escorted the foresters to their people's square, and Paris led Kivan to the new inn's door. He entered and they turned away. Suddenly a scream and a crash split the air. Paris and some of the others flung the door open and rushed to the rescue... only to find Kivan and Yvonne locked in each other's embrace amid 3 empty mugs, damp patrons, and a serving platter only now clattering to a rest on the floor. Quietly they withdrew.

Heading down the main drag towards the Jouet section, Anton and Claire noticed two new establishments had opened. Anton entered the northernmost of the two and met Argum Johnson, "chief rangler of the Adventurers' Guild at the Sign of the Mule". He recognized Anton as a mage, but the other corrected him: "I'm really a bard, but I know some magic." Argum spoke of adventuring teams forming to go seek out the holes in the ground where orcs live, and bring back copper and silver and "gems as big as your fist." Argum was loquacious and so Anton learned he once adventured in the Mystic East, then moved out to the Kingdom of the Isles. When news of what had happened here reached him, he packed up and moved in to open this guild, collecting and selling adventurer's materials. Maps, 50 copper. Training, 10 copper/day. "No better rate anywhere else!" Anton listened intently and then left his name and residence on a card under the 'Proven Mage' area of the Guild's bulletin board.

Meanwhile, Mia and Claire had learned the establishment with the 6-pointed star was the Order of the Celestial Star, owned and offering training by an Easterner, Adjih Rafia, Master of all the schools of magics, Master of genies and effrits. As neither of the women had money, they could only listen and consider the potential offered in study with this master.

The mages rejoined the Party and explained what they had learned. Thence began a week in town.

Paris vanished into the palace at daybreak and returned each day well after dark, too tired to spend much time with the others. Most of the Party availed themselves of the free learning in the Palace library where, eventually, even a book on Earth magics showed up -- to Claire's delight. Brillig particularly spent time hunting for a book that might explain how to "break the mirror", knowing by the Magician's words that breaking the mirror would destroy the world -- and all orcs as well. Claire spent part of her time teaching Arcane magic. Calais sought out Argum and managed to buy a beginner's set of the [lock pick} tools he had been coveting.

[Red, presumably, headed north with Silverlocke. Paris would have tried to see him off, if the opportunity arose.]

Mia at one point noticed a maternal-looking woman seated at an outside table along the Main Drag. The woman had a deck of cards and invited the mage to a "free reading". On impulse, Mia agreed. The woman had Mia draw the cards. The Page of Cups represented Mia. It was covered by the 10 of Cups representing lost family. The 10 of Swords represented her fear that such loss would happen again. The Magician, Mia admitted to having met. The High Priestess, the woman said Mia would meet. The Wheel of Fortune represented great variability. "You will have a choice -- but not if you allow your fear to overcome you." The 5 of Pentacles: "much travail, sadness, a small group of people who will help you, much danger and death." Mia then introduced herself. The woman took the proffered hand and said, I am the Reader." Mystified, Mia walked away, wondering if this had been another Arcana. When she turned back, the table was empty. Mia realized that the woman had looked a great deal like a younger version of Deidre, the strange crone who had taken Goodwife Green away from the root cellar back on that fateful night.


[Here is where Sheryl was not present. Most of this is guess-work based on what I did hear.]

At some point, the balance (minus Paris and Rhori) of the Party was approached by Goodman Swordkeeper. The Duke had provided a new form of administration for the new city. It had been divided into sections and "Town Barons" had been appointed for each section. These Barons were responsible for seeing that the Duke's bounty was distributed equitably amongst the refugees under their protection. Others had, in the last week, been pouring into the new town who were not refugees, but opportunists from the Capitol. Their area was now the Main Drag, there goods were bought and sold, not provided free at the Duke's expense.

Food still being dear and in short supply, the Town Barons were conscious of their responsibility. The Baron responsible for Jouet's area -- Baron Southward -- was being plagued by thievery. Five instances, according to Goodman SwordKeeper. Potatoes had been taken -- and, in the last instance, a bag of flour -- from the storage area for Jouet: the town house abutting on the Goodman's own.

The Party decided to lay a trap for the thief. Night watch was set: Calais who could hide in the stairwell to the basement, Claire who claimed to be able to see in the dark, and Anton who could sit invisible in the store room itself. Having sought Paris' advice and tracking skills, they also laid down axle grease to aid in tracking the felon were they unable to actually catch him -- or them. The only real trace Paris had found was a handprint on an upper windowsill of a shuttered but unlocked window.

As luck would have it, the quarry spooked before ever reaching the storeroom. Claire watched him hoist himself from window to roof -- and alerted the others. In the night, however, the Party could not co-ordinate well. Anton flew Mia to the roof, but the intruder had already gone down again. Claire followed him into another building and -- lost him.


Towards the end of the week, Paris realized that -- in all of the training that Prince William had made available to her -- she was being trained as though she were to be a knight. Unthinkable for a peasant and a woman!

One day, as the week of training drew to a close, Genelle dropped by Paris' room. The warrior looked up in some surprised and then hastily made the other girl welcome.

Genelle spoke with some slight hesitation, whether from nervousness or fright or some other cause, Paris could not tell. But then in many ways both girls had changed vastly over the last several weeks. It was like getting to know a new person, Paris thought, who looked remarkably like an old friend.

"Paris, you once said that if ever I needed to talk, you would listen?" The young warrior nodded. Genelle continued, growing more sure as she spoke. "I need to talk. I need to ask a favour of you." She sat silent for some moments, hands folded in her lap. Then she looked straight into Paris' eyes. "There is no place here for a woman of the cloth."

Paris' eyes widened and then she remembered the Prince's words. There might not be any place for a woman like herself here either -- if peasant women could not become warriors-of-honour. She nodded in understanding.

Genelle went on. "The High Priest of the church is to come here soon. I would be gone. I would return home. Would you and your friends take me back?"

Paris stiffened at this second shock. Take Genelle back? To the burned out ruins of what had been her -- their -- home? Where no one was left to till the soil and provide food or companionship? Where the first orc cave was not so far distant? The taking would certainly be possible; the leaving -- how could Genelle even contemplate that Paris would leave her there. But it was plain to see that she also could not stay here. Paris sat for long, drawn-out moments in utter silence. Genelle watched her. The silence grew heavy.

Paris realized how it could be possible to grant Genelle her wish. "I will do as you ask," she said hoarsely. Genelle bowed her head in acceptance.


Paris made sure that she could be free of her training duties at the time the others usually gathered for supper. She hadn't been able to see much of them, but Genelle had asked for them as well -- for the trip. They didn't seem all that surprised to see her join them. They'd been busy in their own ways, no doubt, this week. Paris arose and addressed the Party. "Genelle has asked to return to Jouet. I have promised to take her. She cannot stay here and wants to stay there. She asked that you all come along to provide escort for the trip. Will you?"

Bedlam arose. All the protests and more that she had made to herself clamoured forth from the lips of the others. Chief above all they asked "Why?! Why?!" Paris kept her silence. The 'why', she felt, was Genelle's business. What she had seen of her friends in their last outing made her unwilling to present the reason herself. If Genelle felt they should know why, she would tell them. But, in answer to Claire's strident, "How will she live?" Paris could reply steadily, "I will see that she is cared for."

[This is where the run ended.]

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