Hard Lessons
A Question of Ethics RPG Module
Ecanos L’Ordan appeared to be half-elven with the dark tan that comes from a life in the sun. He was taller and stockier than most half elves, dark haired with light grey eyes. He wore black canvas jeans and what looked to be a silk shirt with bone buttons. He had gem-studded gold rings in his ears, tattoos, and wore several unusual weapons sheathed or secured on multiple belts. He wore a wide brimmed, three pointed hat, and had several medallions and charms hanging about his persons. He moved like a seasoned fighter and wore lightweight boots.
Today he sat at the front of his Tinker’s Wagon coming down out of the mountains, heading towards Andrath, a medium-sized village along a small river that ran out of the Rock Mountains and through the foothills before getting lost in small pools out on the plains. It was time for Andrath’s annual fair.
The village normally supported around fifteen-hundred people with another five-hundred living in the country-side or regularly passing through. It sat on the trade route for Dwarven goods from the nearest clans. The trade route for the Halfling Kinstons out of the foot hills entered the town through a different gate. The Gnomish Rail did not come through the village, but Andrath was closer than the nearest cities that were. The village sat on the route that led north or south to other, more populated areas and East to the great Elven Ranches out on the plains. The city had a primarily human population, but Dwarves, Halflings and Elves made up half the townsfolk, and most other races were represented in shops that catered to travelers and those that crave the exotic.
Ecanos was looking for a group of Stone Giant, The G’mlacs he had heard about while trading with the Eagle Ridge Clan. The Giants had visited with the Clan looking for a rare mineral, Tinty-Byuleun. The mineral could be used to protect their cave homes from a group of Destrachans that have migrated away from the mining operations of the Eagle Ridge Clan and into the territory of the G’mlacs. The dwarves traded a few of the pieces they could spare and directed the giants to an area they had noted to contain the ore. The dwarves had given Ecanos an additional map they had located to take to the Stone Giants in order to assist their search.
Ecanos was also looking forward to trading at the fair. He had heard there would be several skill contests, including an Arcane Challenge. As this was his first time into the area, Ecanos was trying to decide if he wanted to even enter the challenges since he had an unfair advantage over most magi. As he rode along, watching the slow, rhythmic movements of his four horses as they pulled the large wagon, he decided that a display of his skills might get better sales once the anger of the other contestants settled down.
The sun was just easing down towards the mountains, and the wagon’s shadow stretched out over his horses as he topped a rise and saw the village several miles off. He could hear the sounds of the fair drifting on the breeze all this way, and could see the smoke from a great many cook fires. He horses perked up at the smell of the river.
Pausing to pull out a map and double check his surroundings, Ecanos sipped his canteen and lit a smoke. He sat with his feet up on the kickboard, settled back in the cushioned seat and tried to figure where he was in relation to the map of the area. In the time it took to finish the smoke, he’d determined approximately where he was compared to where he needed to start looking for the G’mlac. He folded his map away and nudged the horses back into motion. The terrain was too rough off the trail he’d been using even for his wagon. It would be simpler to secure it in town and ride back out in the morning to locate the tribe.
Most of the town sat on a rise a few hundred yards from the river. A few fishing huts on stilts and the floating docks attested to the overflow that came during the winter-melt season. The fair grounds were between the river and the town, in an open grassy field that had about a dozen trees. The few trees each had several carts, wagons and booths set up under their meager shade. The main area of the fair was a double row of tents with a trampled road between them that led to the village. Beyond that the vendors were haphazard and disorganized.
Ecanos turned the wagon and eased down the central avenue of the town, noting the businesses and tradesmen available. There were many horses tied to the rails, and the saloons, hotels and eateries doing a brisk business. Music and voices flowed from these establishments. Most people seemed to be in good humor, walking as couples; waving to people they knew as children ran about with colored cloth streamers tied to sticks chasing dogs. An old gnome pushed a cart selling small cloth bags or roasted nuts and seeds, while a woman with about fourteen children on her porch was selling grilled vegetables on sticks.
Ecanos paused when he saw a familiar banner flying from the porch of one of the larger homes. A grey rock on a black field that had been enspelled to glow. Ecanos had heard about the Company of the Shining Stone. They were the local adventuring heroes in the area. They had come west from across the plains, exploring abandoned tombs, delving into old ruins, and fighting various bandit clans in the mountains. He had heard Andrath had granted them a charter house after they returned with most of a group of children that had been carried off by ogres from some surrounding farms.
Rumor was the group leader was hot-headed and arrogant, but that his followers were loyal to a fault. The saw themselves as the ultimate good, especially against those they saw as evil. Ecanos had heard that the ogre band had only come out of the mountains and attacked after the Shiners had killed off half their tribe while exploring an abandoned castle the Orcs had claimed and were rebuilding. The Shiners had a reputation of fighting the good fight, so long as you were human.
Verrek was a large, hairy, brute out of the Min’Soda northlands. Many claimed he had orcish blood, but never in his presence. His battle rages were famous and his story included a claim of being able to throw a goblin fifty feet. He wore heavy furs in the winter or leather in the summer over polished half plate and ring mail. His axe is told to chill the bones of his opponents, slowing them and making them easier to kill.
Murt was a short, rotund monstrosity that clanked around in poorly fitted plate mail with a heavy iron shield. When not wearing his great helm, Murt had a squashed looking, bulbous head and eyes that seemed to always squint. He spoke poorly, mostly curses, in a high pitched falsetto that had caused many an idiot to die after hearing it and laughing. Murt avoids conversation, but has a keen mind.
Gastronal is an arrogant human raised in a half-elven community when his father met and ‘bred’ with an elf maiden. He dislikes elves, but has learned bow craft, swordsmanship and magic from them. He takes special pleasure in raiding the tombs and crypts of elves looking for their treasure. Tales are that while he carries a quarterstaff, it is enspelled to become any bow, longsword, or rapier weapon he might need. This allows him to carry his weapon into places where they would not normally be allowed and maintain an element of surprise when in a conflict.
Taranga is a petite, attractive maiden with ashen blonde hair and grey eyes. Some say she has six sisters who are just as pretty, and just as crafty. As much as she enjoys having treasures and coin, she claims to work with the group for the challenges the places they go present. And often, surviving with a group like this is a challenge in itself.
Ecanos had forgotten about the Shiners until he saw their banner. Several local ladies lounged nearby, trying to look busy as they waited for their chance to meet the heroes. Up on the porch, Taranga sat in a rocking chair, her feet up on the rail, with a drink in one hand. She looked to be working on a puzzle box, poking at it with a piece of wire in her free hand. She looked up as his wagon passed, and after a moment made a sign. Ecanos returned the appropriate greeting. She nodded and went back to work poking at the box.
Ecanos stopped at the town hall structure and parked the wagon out of the way. There were a few vendors standing on the steps milling, and some coming or going from the building. He waited a moment to get a feel of the fair from their conversations.
“…..Wish they had more trees out in that field. Bleedin’ ‘ot it tis out there….”
“….Want to stay away from the river. It floods easy and my bones are calling for rain…”
“….McGringle got here two days before me! If I hadn’t had to replace that wheel...! My shells are twice as nice as his, but he was here first and got the coin…”
“…. You keep your boys working the river side, and mine will work the town side…”
“… Still not sure if I’d rather pay a straight fee or the percentage tax…”
Ecanos continued inside, passing a large man in ring mail trying not to look bored as he watched over the exterior of the town hall for trouble. Inside was a hall full of people going from one of the rooms that lined either side of the hall, to another. The town, sitting on several trade routes, had tried to set up its town hall to accommodate the various things that passed through, especially during the week of the Fair. Ecanos felt they honestly did better than most.
A fat little gnome sat at a desk that blocked most of the hall ten feet inside the double doors. On his desk was a large ledger and several boxes of wooden coins, numbered and color coded. Ecanos stepped into line and watched as the prospective vendors stepped up, told what they wanted to sell, had their name and product marked down and were given a wooden coin and allowed to go past the desk to one of the rooms. Ecanos saw that the rooms had larger wooden markers above the door that were numbered and painted. Along the wall from the door to the desk were several postings explaining what items would not be allowed to be sold in or around Andrath, General Rules and Laws for the town, a large map of the town and principal businesses, and the primary groupings of vendors out on the fairgrounds. All were in the trade tongue, the common tongue, and done in pictograph.
Most everyone understood the process, but to one side a large fat vendor was arguing with a slender Elven clerk who was backed by a larger half-orc guard. “Why can I no sell my food!? Is very tasty. Grumblin is delicacy. Very tasty.”
“Good sir, as my under clerk explained, and as I have explained, we do not allow the selling of roast puppies on a stick. We do not care about what you put in your soups, or what your cuts of meat are, but we do not allow the identifiable selling of certain animals.”
“But is tradition. You do not cut up delicacy into soup!”
“Sir, we would appreciate your business, but cannot allow….”
Ecanos turned his attention back to the Gnome at the desk, who had gone stiff and was sitting back in his seat as if to avoid the cloaked person standing head and shoulders above the front edge of the desk. Sitting in the middle of the ledger was a box with the lid opened.
The person in the cloak was gesturing for the Gnome to take the box, and speaking goblinoids. Those behind the cloaked figure were looking nervous and backing away. The elf and guard had not noticed.
“Take box. We have many man to sell. This give for you. Very good. Very much dead making. Very good to protect treasures.” Ecanos heard the creature, probably a small goblin, saying in his native tongue, which luckily no one understood. Ecanos quickly stepped up, placed his hand on the goblin’s shoulder and flipped the lid shut on the box. The goblin stiffened, but the gnome relaxed. Ecanos could see the gnome and voided his bladder upon seeing the void spider in the box.
“I buy these,” Ecanos told the goblin, “Buy all. Big money. You sell me all.”
“We want make trade all people. Show not bad. Show want be good. Want come back again. Make more trade.”
“I trade good for you. Me take this. We talk with food tonight. Good gift this. They no understand good gift. Think bad. Think attack. Think want make harm. Is ok. I will make good. Make good trade for you. They no talk goblin. You have other trade? I talk them for you and make much trade.”
The goblin thought about this a moment, “Is good. You talk them. You keep gift. We trade you. We have more trade they think good maybe.” He pointed to the gnome and back at Ecanos, “You tell him what trade we have?”
A Question of Ethics RPG Module
Ecanos L’Ordan appeared to be half-elven with the dark tan that comes from a life in the sun. He was taller and stockier than most half elves, dark haired with light grey eyes. He wore black canvas jeans and what looked to be a silk shirt with bone buttons. He had gem-studded gold rings in his ears, tattoos, and wore several unusual weapons sheathed or secured on multiple belts. He wore a wide brimmed, three pointed hat, and had several medallions and charms hanging about his persons. He moved like a seasoned fighter and wore lightweight boots.
Today he sat at the front of his Tinker’s Wagon coming down out of the mountains, heading towards Andrath, a medium-sized village along a small river that ran out of the Rock Mountains and through the foothills before getting lost in small pools out on the plains. It was time for Andrath’s annual fair.
The village normally supported around fifteen-hundred people with another five-hundred living in the country-side or regularly passing through. It sat on the trade route for Dwarven goods from the nearest clans. The trade route for the Halfling Kinstons out of the foot hills entered the town through a different gate. The Gnomish Rail did not come through the village, but Andrath was closer than the nearest cities that were. The village sat on the route that led north or south to other, more populated areas and East to the great Elven Ranches out on the plains. The city had a primarily human population, but Dwarves, Halflings and Elves made up half the townsfolk, and most other races were represented in shops that catered to travelers and those that crave the exotic.
Ecanos was looking for a group of Stone Giant, The G’mlacs he had heard about while trading with the Eagle Ridge Clan. The Giants had visited with the Clan looking for a rare mineral, Tinty-Byuleun. The mineral could be used to protect their cave homes from a group of Destrachans that have migrated away from the mining operations of the Eagle Ridge Clan and into the territory of the G’mlacs. The dwarves traded a few of the pieces they could spare and directed the giants to an area they had noted to contain the ore. The dwarves had given Ecanos an additional map they had located to take to the Stone Giants in order to assist their search.
Ecanos was also looking forward to trading at the fair. He had heard there would be several skill contests, including an Arcane Challenge. As this was his first time into the area, Ecanos was trying to decide if he wanted to even enter the challenges since he had an unfair advantage over most magi. As he rode along, watching the slow, rhythmic movements of his four horses as they pulled the large wagon, he decided that a display of his skills might get better sales once the anger of the other contestants settled down.
The sun was just easing down towards the mountains, and the wagon’s shadow stretched out over his horses as he topped a rise and saw the village several miles off. He could hear the sounds of the fair drifting on the breeze all this way, and could see the smoke from a great many cook fires. He horses perked up at the smell of the river.
Pausing to pull out a map and double check his surroundings, Ecanos sipped his canteen and lit a smoke. He sat with his feet up on the kickboard, settled back in the cushioned seat and tried to figure where he was in relation to the map of the area. In the time it took to finish the smoke, he’d determined approximately where he was compared to where he needed to start looking for the G’mlac. He folded his map away and nudged the horses back into motion. The terrain was too rough off the trail he’d been using even for his wagon. It would be simpler to secure it in town and ride back out in the morning to locate the tribe.
Most of the town sat on a rise a few hundred yards from the river. A few fishing huts on stilts and the floating docks attested to the overflow that came during the winter-melt season. The fair grounds were between the river and the town, in an open grassy field that had about a dozen trees. The few trees each had several carts, wagons and booths set up under their meager shade. The main area of the fair was a double row of tents with a trampled road between them that led to the village. Beyond that the vendors were haphazard and disorganized.
Ecanos turned the wagon and eased down the central avenue of the town, noting the businesses and tradesmen available. There were many horses tied to the rails, and the saloons, hotels and eateries doing a brisk business. Music and voices flowed from these establishments. Most people seemed to be in good humor, walking as couples; waving to people they knew as children ran about with colored cloth streamers tied to sticks chasing dogs. An old gnome pushed a cart selling small cloth bags or roasted nuts and seeds, while a woman with about fourteen children on her porch was selling grilled vegetables on sticks.
Ecanos paused when he saw a familiar banner flying from the porch of one of the larger homes. A grey rock on a black field that had been enspelled to glow. Ecanos had heard about the Company of the Shining Stone. They were the local adventuring heroes in the area. They had come west from across the plains, exploring abandoned tombs, delving into old ruins, and fighting various bandit clans in the mountains. He had heard Andrath had granted them a charter house after they returned with most of a group of children that had been carried off by ogres from some surrounding farms.
Rumor was the group leader was hot-headed and arrogant, but that his followers were loyal to a fault. The saw themselves as the ultimate good, especially against those they saw as evil. Ecanos had heard that the ogre band had only come out of the mountains and attacked after the Shiners had killed off half their tribe while exploring an abandoned castle the Orcs had claimed and were rebuilding. The Shiners had a reputation of fighting the good fight, so long as you were human.
Verrek was a large, hairy, brute out of the Min’Soda northlands. Many claimed he had orcish blood, but never in his presence. His battle rages were famous and his story included a claim of being able to throw a goblin fifty feet. He wore heavy furs in the winter or leather in the summer over polished half plate and ring mail. His axe is told to chill the bones of his opponents, slowing them and making them easier to kill.
Murt was a short, rotund monstrosity that clanked around in poorly fitted plate mail with a heavy iron shield. When not wearing his great helm, Murt had a squashed looking, bulbous head and eyes that seemed to always squint. He spoke poorly, mostly curses, in a high pitched falsetto that had caused many an idiot to die after hearing it and laughing. Murt avoids conversation, but has a keen mind.
Gastronal is an arrogant human raised in a half-elven community when his father met and ‘bred’ with an elf maiden. He dislikes elves, but has learned bow craft, swordsmanship and magic from them. He takes special pleasure in raiding the tombs and crypts of elves looking for their treasure. Tales are that while he carries a quarterstaff, it is enspelled to become any bow, longsword, or rapier weapon he might need. This allows him to carry his weapon into places where they would not normally be allowed and maintain an element of surprise when in a conflict.
Taranga is a petite, attractive maiden with ashen blonde hair and grey eyes. Some say she has six sisters who are just as pretty, and just as crafty. As much as she enjoys having treasures and coin, she claims to work with the group for the challenges the places they go present. And often, surviving with a group like this is a challenge in itself.
Ecanos had forgotten about the Shiners until he saw their banner. Several local ladies lounged nearby, trying to look busy as they waited for their chance to meet the heroes. Up on the porch, Taranga sat in a rocking chair, her feet up on the rail, with a drink in one hand. She looked to be working on a puzzle box, poking at it with a piece of wire in her free hand. She looked up as his wagon passed, and after a moment made a sign. Ecanos returned the appropriate greeting. She nodded and went back to work poking at the box.
Ecanos stopped at the town hall structure and parked the wagon out of the way. There were a few vendors standing on the steps milling, and some coming or going from the building. He waited a moment to get a feel of the fair from their conversations.
“…..Wish they had more trees out in that field. Bleedin’ ‘ot it tis out there….”
“….Want to stay away from the river. It floods easy and my bones are calling for rain…”
“….McGringle got here two days before me! If I hadn’t had to replace that wheel...! My shells are twice as nice as his, but he was here first and got the coin…”
“…. You keep your boys working the river side, and mine will work the town side…”
“… Still not sure if I’d rather pay a straight fee or the percentage tax…”
Ecanos continued inside, passing a large man in ring mail trying not to look bored as he watched over the exterior of the town hall for trouble. Inside was a hall full of people going from one of the rooms that lined either side of the hall, to another. The town, sitting on several trade routes, had tried to set up its town hall to accommodate the various things that passed through, especially during the week of the Fair. Ecanos felt they honestly did better than most.
A fat little gnome sat at a desk that blocked most of the hall ten feet inside the double doors. On his desk was a large ledger and several boxes of wooden coins, numbered and color coded. Ecanos stepped into line and watched as the prospective vendors stepped up, told what they wanted to sell, had their name and product marked down and were given a wooden coin and allowed to go past the desk to one of the rooms. Ecanos saw that the rooms had larger wooden markers above the door that were numbered and painted. Along the wall from the door to the desk were several postings explaining what items would not be allowed to be sold in or around Andrath, General Rules and Laws for the town, a large map of the town and principal businesses, and the primary groupings of vendors out on the fairgrounds. All were in the trade tongue, the common tongue, and done in pictograph.
Most everyone understood the process, but to one side a large fat vendor was arguing with a slender Elven clerk who was backed by a larger half-orc guard. “Why can I no sell my food!? Is very tasty. Grumblin is delicacy. Very tasty.”
“Good sir, as my under clerk explained, and as I have explained, we do not allow the selling of roast puppies on a stick. We do not care about what you put in your soups, or what your cuts of meat are, but we do not allow the identifiable selling of certain animals.”
“But is tradition. You do not cut up delicacy into soup!”
“Sir, we would appreciate your business, but cannot allow….”
Ecanos turned his attention back to the Gnome at the desk, who had gone stiff and was sitting back in his seat as if to avoid the cloaked person standing head and shoulders above the front edge of the desk. Sitting in the middle of the ledger was a box with the lid opened.
The person in the cloak was gesturing for the Gnome to take the box, and speaking goblinoids. Those behind the cloaked figure were looking nervous and backing away. The elf and guard had not noticed.
“Take box. We have many man to sell. This give for you. Very good. Very much dead making. Very good to protect treasures.” Ecanos heard the creature, probably a small goblin, saying in his native tongue, which luckily no one understood. Ecanos quickly stepped up, placed his hand on the goblin’s shoulder and flipped the lid shut on the box. The goblin stiffened, but the gnome relaxed. Ecanos could see the gnome and voided his bladder upon seeing the void spider in the box.
“I buy these,” Ecanos told the goblin, “Buy all. Big money. You sell me all.”
“We want make trade all people. Show not bad. Show want be good. Want come back again. Make more trade.”
“I trade good for you. Me take this. We talk with food tonight. Good gift this. They no understand good gift. Think bad. Think attack. Think want make harm. Is ok. I will make good. Make good trade for you. They no talk goblin. You have other trade? I talk them for you and make much trade.”
The goblin thought about this a moment, “Is good. You talk them. You keep gift. We trade you. We have more trade they think good maybe.” He pointed to the gnome and back at Ecanos, “You tell him what trade we have?”