Hook, Tale and Sting

I'd like to start by referencing events that I wrote about earlier, associated with the post, Who is Responsible.  One of the players foolishly attempted to cast an unknown spell inside a Merchant's Guild, which ended in his being taken off to prison.  Things looked certainly dire; the scene can be read on the first resource post from the Senex Campaign.

While the scene did not play out well for the player, as a DM I had no intention of executing the player for a simple mistake, which was reasonably a matter of not clearly understanding the rules.  Unless a player is deliberately obtuse, I consider it my responsibility to rebuild the situation into one that the player can rise out of ... and so I contrived a court scene that would end with the player character, Tiberius, receiving his freedom.

My perspective is that player foolishness is usually an opportunity for further events, which can set up a twist ... or, to see it another way, a sting.

In many ways, Dungeon Mastering is a confidence game.  The way in which con artists used to describe the process of fleecing their mark gives us the terms we still use in storytelling and in role-playing games.  The con's mark is given a "hook;" the hook is followed with a "tale" that baits the hook, encouraging the mark to want something so badly that they're willing to expose themselves. When the con artist takes advantage of that exposure, it is called the "sting."

For example, you're a mark; and you want to be very, very rich.  Being rich, however, is something hard to accomplish, so you're always looking for an easier way. This is what makes you a mark: your willingness to look for shortcuts.

The hook is the demonstrate that a short cut exists.  And the tale is the way that its revealed that you, if you're smart enough, and willing enough to break a few rules, can take advantage of this short cut.  And when you do try to take advantage ... I sting you.

That's what the Nigerian Prince is all about.  It's what most phishing scams are built around.  It's the tale behind Amway and most pyramid schemes.  "Do this, it's really easy, just get your friends to join, and once they get their friends to join, and so on, you'll be rich!  And in the meantime buy these products wholesale so you can make money off them, too!"

People believe because they want to believe.  Because they are desperate to believe.  Because the idea of not believing they can be rich fills them with angst and sorrow.

Role-players are excellent marks, because they have deliberately put their blinders on for the sake of enjoying the fantasy and taking risks that they wouldn't ordinarily take as real people.  They don't need much of a hook or a tale ... and though they are often doubtful, now and then they can be sweetly and beautifully stung ~ though personally, I like to do it in a manner that enables a continuing, satisfying and steadily profitable experience for the players.  This post is to explain how.

Of course, it's always possible to find some hook that can be baited for the player, but if we take a situation like Tiberius getting himself arrested, that's not necessary.  The player is already good and hooked, because the player is at the NPC's mercy.

I invented Johann Mizer carefully, on certain tried-and-true principles.  First, he had to be an important enough merchant that his word would be recognized by the Judge of the Court and be good enough to exonerate Tiberius:

Johann Mizer [known at this time only as a 'Gentleman']: “Your honor. I was present at the dinner in the Merchant’s Hall when this man’s honor was astoundingly and insultingly impugned by the action of the Hall’s concierge. The very idea that this man could stand in a public place and prepare to throw a spell in such a manner is utterly ridiculous and fully fantastical. This man is a well-known figure in the business world in Graz, in Syria, and is in the employ of the Baron von Furstenfeld, an upstanding gentleman and one of the Electoral College of the Empire, your honor. His faithfulness to the crown, to the well-being of his fellow man and to God is indisputable. I demand that compensation be made for this unforgivable attack!”

First and foremost, all of this is a lie.  The player behind Tiberius knows it is, but who facing a prison term would say so?  Obviously, if Tiberius did say so, as DM I would throw him in prison and ask him to roll a new character (for being deliberately stupid).  Secondly, the lie is ornate, excessive and full of names and details that I can advantage because my world is based on the Real Earth.  This is south Bavaria in the 17th century; Graz is an important trading city, there is an Electoral College in the Holy Roman Empire and Furstenfeld was a legitimate name of nobility.

Moreover, the details here took advantage of a background I gave to the character before the game started.  I did not create the background with this purpose; I didn't know the player was going to get thrown in jail so quickly.  But once I did know, I searched the background to find what I could exploit.  So that is Key: use the player's background, if there is one, to create a hook.
For Mizer's lie is a second hook, in that it leaves the player to wonder, "Why is this stranger lying for me?"

Connecting Tiberius to Mizer, as someone Tiberius knew once upon a time, helps create the hook we're going to tell.  The tale is this: Mizer always liked Tiberius, Mizer is rich, Mizer has power, Mizer has Tiberius' best interests at heart ~ and concordantly, the party's best interests also.  The virtue of the tale is that it helps convince the player, "1) If Mizer likes me, he'll help me. 2) If he's rich, he can help me with money.  3) If he's powerful, he can connect me with other people who can help me. 4) And he'll do all this because he likes me."

To make this work, we've got to be subtle and not heavy handed.  Mizer will help, but not now, because he's busy, he has to go talk to really important people.  Meet him tomorrow at a reputable place so we can talk about stuff.

Mizer's lack of availability sells point (3), as does the fact that the judge believed Mizer.  The importance of the people Mizer meets helps sell point (2). A public place suggests he has nothing to hide and helps sell point (1).  And 1 + 2 + 3 helps sell point (4).  We can do all of that with so little.

The story in the past that I gave was that once, Tiberius' master sold Mizer a blind horse; Tiberius was present as a stable boy.  Of course he wouldn't have dared, as a boy, speak up; and the player accepts that immediately, when Mizer says,

Johann: “You sold me a blind horse! Well, the Baron did. I think that’s the last time I did anything very foolish. Have you had a decent meal? Do you have somewhere to stay?”

The words are chosen very carefully!  He brings up the horse; he exonerates Tiberius in it, and Tiberius naturally assumes this was because Tiberius was just a stable boy.  And Mizer seems very content about it, blaming himself.  What a good guy this Mizer is!  And generous, too ... the generosity following immediately after the concept of blame/self-blame.  Look at Tiberius' response:

Tiberius: I laugh uneasily at Johann’s small joke. “My jailors treated me remarkably well. Food, water, a place to think. All well and good, considering.” Tiberius informs Johann of his accommodations at The Pig. “If I might ask, what brings you to Dachau? Besides helping an old acquaintance out of an unfortunate scrape?”

Hook taken.  Tiberius reveals his abode without hesitation.  Ask yourself as a person: how quick are you to tell near strangers where you live?  Tiberius the player trusts Mizer already.  As a DM, it is my role to figure out a way to transform that trust into a good game experience.

Johann does not tell Tiberius where he lives; he gives his point of contact as the Market Hall, also called the Merchant's Hall.  And when the party does see Mizer the next morning, he's rushed and puts off their meeting to the beer garden.  This helps sell further that Mizer is too important to be interrupted, which the party buys hook, line and sinker (also a con artist's phrase - the "line" is another name for the tale and the "sinker" is another name for the sting).

Johann and I, the DM, are playing the same game.  I've fashioned Johann as a con artist to play off the vulnerability of Tiberius' arrest.  But the con I'm playing here as DM is not to take the player's money; it is not even to put the players into trouble.  Let's ask ourselves: what does Johann Mizer know about the players?

Well, he's heard what happened at the Market Hall with Tiberius, so he knows Tiberius is a spellcaster.  He talks to the guards and they tell him how the spellcaster came in with another man, who tried to ask about hiring mercenaries: Josef.  Mizer asks around and figures out that people have seen them both in the company of a very extroverted bard, who stays at The Pig ... and learns about the other two, Kazimir and Anshelm, through that connection.  He learns this group don't have jobs, they've been able to pay their way up until now, they don't seem to respect authority very much and they are constantly asking people about some sort of adventure they'd like to be on.  It's pretty much exhausting how often this group harasses others on that point.

This is how I want to think as a DM.  NOT about what I know about the party, but what an NPC knows ... from the way the party acts.  Parties tend to think they move through a world like ghosts; that no one is watching them on an everyday basis.  But that's not how it would be, right?  Player characters, with their armor, their cavalier attitude, their tendency to wander about without giving a care about things like responsibility, working, being concerned about others and so on, must leave a pretty large footprint as they wander around.  It's a good thing to remember.

So Johann thinks, "I'll give them an adventure."  And does.  But when he meets the party at the beer garden, he is careful not to say so directly:

DM: Mizer is there; he happily greets each one of you; introductions are made, and Mizer pleasantly insists that he buy the first round. The day did not begin too well for him; but an arrangement has been made and a silversmith is to be ousted from his rented property a few miles out of town, so that it will be put under Mizer’s ownership.

Anshelm: “This silversmith ... what’d he do?” I inquire after a moment, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.

Johann: “Oh nothing, I suppose. But it’s not his land, is it? I might have a look at his books, see if he’s worth having as a tenant ... but I’m thinking I’d like to turn the land over to cattle. There might be some trouble, depending on what sort of man he turns out to be - but I’ll send a group of hooligans if I must.”

Johann is generous again, he's apparently forthcoming as he talks about his "troubles" ... and he starts the ball rolling by inserting two words into his story: the word "silver" and the word "arrangement."

See?  Everything is absolutely legal, though the players wouldn't recognize legal if the face-planted into it (they don't care anyway, they only care that an illegality doesn't pursue them).  The key word is silver ... which, though not a single player makes a comment on the word for the rest of the adventure, I know as a DM that it hasn't been forgotten.

Anshelm takes the bait with his question ... and then shows himself to me that he's eager by telling me he's not eager.  A real Johann would identify the exact same message by the mere fact of Anshelm's question, picked out of everything else Johann says, accompanied by body language and the like.

In How to Run, I talked about how a magician guesses your card by holding the cards shown to you in a specific way that makes you pick the card the magician wants.  We think we're using our brains, that we're exercising our freedom of action ~ but the magician knows better.  The magician knows we're being manipulated.

Here is a real example of my doing that.  I want the player to ask the question that lets Johann answer with more information; the RIGHT information.  "Oh, I have this problem, I'm sure some bully boys can solve it."

Johann knows he's talking to bully boys.  The players also know they're bully boys ... but they think, somehow, that because Johann is a stranger, he doesn't already know this.  They assume that I, as DM, know it ... but surely, I'm playing Johann here, so I'm not acting on that information.

It is a weird sort of double-bluff, and to play it well takes practice and an awareness that this is what you're doing.  You're giving the NPC the information they're entitled to have; you're reasoning with yourself how the NPC knows it (in a way that you know you could explain the legitimacy of it if you had to) and you're giving the TALE to the players so they'll walk into the sting:

Delfig [to Johann]: “Why would there be trouble?” I ask rather innocently.

Johann [choosing to answer Anshelm]: “Oh, these country bumpkins, they think they have rights because they pay their money. They never understand that these shacks and flimsy waterwheels they slap together hardly substitute as privileges of land.”

Anshelm: I lean forward. “Yes, the folk ‘round these parts seem the petulant type. Have you had trouble before?”

See?  They haven't got the job yet and already I'm explaining how easy it will be.  It's a total lie. When the players get to the Meyer's homestead at the end of this tale, it is far from a "shack" and a "flimsy wheel."  It is a monument to hard work and maintenance.  But the players don't pick up on this even when they're there.  In fact, until they actually find that Herr Meyer is prepared to fight them, they suppose he's absolutely a country bumpkin, just as Johann says.  So the tale was set deep in their heads; wasn't even that hard.

So the players try to sell themselves to Johann, and he asks if they've tried their hand at collections; and the players make the connection and accept the job, and there we are: the players are off on an adventure to throw someone they don't know out of their house: for 25 g.p. up front and 100 g.p. when they do the job.  Big whup.  But the party is sure, like all parties are, that this is just the beginning of their association with Johann Mizer.

Very well.  Onto the sting.

They're taken out to the Meyer house and mill, five miles west of Dachau.  Before they see the house, or learn anything about it, they have a big conflab about what to do and how to do it, and how many weapons they'll take and armor and equipment and on and on.  I'm never clear about these scenes; me, I'd walk up to the house, explain to Meyer what I've been told, assure him if he doesn't leave that I'll be back with more people and that is a promise.

This is what I expected from the party.  This is what Johann expected.  He didn't say, "Do you want a job threatening a man and his family.  He said, "I might have a look at his books, see if he's worth having as a tenant ..." That doesn't sound very threatening.  But he also says right after, "I'll send a group of hooligans if I must."

Players will convince themselves of the most absurd agendas, even when the original suggestion is written in text.  It is worse when everything around the table is spoken.  One of the players at the Meyer Homestead suggested burning the house down.  We should ask ourselves: if Johann were to see this immaculate mill and farmhouse, would he want them burned down?

Johann wants to scare the silversmith.  That's all.  He doesn't actually own the property (though he'd like to).  He isn't known by the name "Johann Meyer" to the silversmith.  The party learns both these things ... as they realize they never were given written proof of their right to do anything at all.  In fact, the party bumbles around like a bunch of buffoons as they slowly get it into their heads that, for whatever reason, Johann is playing them for fools.

That's a sting.  And the party's reaction was priceless.  They weren't hurt at all, not really, but it certainly buried them in the situation and they certainly came out of it with their faces red.

But that was supposed to be another sting ... which, to be honest, I don't remember if I ever got to play in the campaign or not.  It's a major reason why I've decided to rewrite the campaign out; I've forgotten more about what happened than I remember.

When the players get back to Dachau, they find out very quickly, by overhearing two guards, that Johann Mizer is dead.  Which throws the party for a loop.

What they didn't realize at the time was that the party had never met Johann Mizer.  Instead, they had met a doppleganger pretending to be Johann Mizer.  And now, the guards were talking about the REAL Johann Mizer, not the fake one the party had met.  That is why Herr Meyer at the mill in the country had never heard of Mizer.  And it was why the party had been sent there. The dopplegangers knew about the farm; they knew about the vein of silver under the mill, and the hidden mine the players never discovered, and the potential for funding themselves in order to go on looking like rich merchants, while killing real merchants ... and ordering the death of innocent innkeepers.  They knew about it as something they'd learned while being dopplegangers.

But, sadly, none of that came out until much, much later.  And a large part of it never came out.  Mostly, in this case, because the party could not get its shit together; and partly because I played the hand much too large later in the mystery (though that was to try to get the party galvanized, which proved near impossible, as they continued to bumble around like buffoons), and partly because it was played online and the players lost the thread of what was happening.

It was supposed to be a really great sting; at the very least, it was a good hook and tale.

Senex Campaign 2: The Meyer's Homestead

Having not as yet settled on what action to take, the night catches up to the party and they settle down in their beds to sleep. In the cold light of morning, they awake to find a gentle falling rain. It is Monday, May 6. The Pig tavern quickly empties of guests, as those who spent the night in Dachau, visiting the market and seeing the performance, pull out before sunrise to return to their homes and to the small mills outside of town. The party wakes, having the Inn to themselves, as most time.

As the party’s board has been paid up until the end of May, Helmunt has a breakfast prepared and waiting for you: duck’s eggs, boiled sausage and porridge. You eschew the porch, for while there is an awning over the outside tables, the cloth leaks. So, you find yourselves inside, finishing your breakfast and wondering if the rain will end before the evening.

Josef Mieszko, the Cleric: Paid through ‘til May! Then we’re in no rush - I thought that we were in much more dire straits than this! OK guys, what to do today?

Anshelm Helbelinc, the Thief: I only takes a bit of porridge to break my fast, as the cotters’ meal from the night before has left me uncomfortable. “It would appear the locals are in a state of agitation. That might be a situation we could use to our advantage; of course, it could also mean our heads...from either side! P’raps we should see what Tiberius’ friend has to offer us in the way of work and wage.”

Delfig Kôlhupfer, the Bard/Thief: Being the late sleeper, I will grumble and groan, stand and stretch, nod appreciatively at Helmut. “I agree, we should see what becomes of Tiberius’s friend.”

Tiberius [Adelbert Volkmann], the Fighter/Mage: I agree to go visit Johann at the Merchant’s Hall, once I have broken my fast.

Josef: Is Dachau divided into “quarters” – are the low and high class areas of the town physically separate? And if such sections exist, which are we in?

DM: There would be “quarters” of the town--specifically, there would be four quarters: a) the wealthier, merchant and noble’s quarter; b) the impoverished quarter; c) the Jew’s quarter; and d) the foreigner’s quarter. These are not the same size.

If you imagine a clock face, with the Cathedral, and The Pig across the street at the center of the clock, with 12 o’clock pointing north. From 9 to 12 on the face would be the merchant’s quarter. Extending outward from the Merchant’s hall on the main square are several walled estates; the mayor’s hall, the arsenal and the town bath. Past this are larger merchant’s houses, with artisan’s shops on the main floor and living quarters above, some of them four floors high. There are also half-timbered houses possessed by private clerks, city officials and independently wealthy persons. This area is built on a flat plateau above the Amper bottomland. The center of this plateau is dominated by a fortress, occupied rarely by the Duke of Bavaria, usually held by the Duke’s steward and occupied chiefly by soldiers and those town members who serve the soldiers: cooks, lamplighters, servers, stablers and so on.

Between 12 and 4 o’clock, the poor live in a wide, ramshackle circle, mixed with open gardens and cropland, scattered along the bottomland, below the merchant homes. The further away, the greater the poverty, descending from those living nearest the merchant quarter outwards, from strong laborers, to rat catchers and gong farmers, and finally to beggars.

Between 4 and 6 o’clock would be the Jew’s Quarter, strictly separated from the rest of the town by a wall built within the city. For other residents of Dachau, free passage is not denied; but the Jews are not permitted to freely roam into the remainder of the city.

Finally, between 6 and 9 o’clock is the foreigner’s corner, which is not as deep as the other quarters of the city, though it is an elongated neighborhood extending a third of the town’s circumference. It includes the largest monastery in the town, and the customs house.

The North Gate would pass between the Castle and the poor district, at 12 o’clock on our clock. The South Gate would come at 6 o’clock, between the Jew’s quarter and the foreigner’s quarter.

Delfig: After waiting for awhile, I comment to Anshelm, “Perhaps we should put our knowledge together, as we have had bits and pieces of conversations. Although we’ve been here awhile, we’ve just now learned that the merchants are squeezing the locals, and perhaps enforcing old grudges to clear them out of the way. This may be leading to some unknown end, as I overheard some of the higher class speaking of an unknown purpose to the building, perhaps for more soldiers. This leads me to believe that there will be a period of unrest coming. Tiberius and the cotters both spoke of the merchants looking for more soldiers. I noticed you were asking questions that seemed to annoy the patrons. Do you wish to share something that you’ve learned? You didn’t say much last night after the performance.”

“And Josef... have you anything to add?”

Anshelm: I agree with Delfig. “You have good sense for a mummer,” I say while reaching for my snuff. “I wasn’t able to glean all that much from the locals; they’re a suspicious lot and didn’t like me prying, asking about the recent unpleasantness around here.” I mention my overhearing from the coachmen about the four killings. “I, for one, am curious about these murders ...”

Delfig: I’m not going to get involved in fomenting rebellion unless there’s a damn good reason for me to risk my neck doing so.

Josef: I believe that the activities of the merchants and leaders of the town are common and will be the case in most of the market towns we come across in the Empire - and just as likely were we to go west. If the issue came up, I know which side I would favor - but I fear that the merchant-lords and bishop-brokers have the upper hand. They have the means to declare their will and then enforce it. However the commons resist, the money is entrenched. Perhaps there is a smaller village nearby that we could base ourselves, then come back here once we’ve somehow acquired some wealth.

Delfig [to Josef]: “I don’t know enough. The lay of the land feels quite treacherous with the murder of the innkeeper and now talk of other murders. We don’t have a good source of coins yet, so my belly tells me to take care of local business before I consider travelling abroad.”

Nothing else is said and the DM moves the game along.

DM: Let us presume the party’s meal is done. Rain continues to fall, steady and drearily, a bit more than light and less than heavy.

Tiberius: Any who wish to come with me to meet with Johann may do so. Otherwise, I will go out into the rain, cloak pulled tight around me, and see if Johann is in the guild hall.

Anshelm: I will accompany you.

Delfig: I am with you.

Josef: I will stay at The Pig, but I appreciate the offer. I’m afraid I don’t make a good impression on the upper-class.

Kazimir Kropt, the Assassin: Kazimir will stay at the Pig with Josef, having no desire to go out in the rain when there’s sausage to be had.

So we follow Tiberius, Anshelm and Delfig as they head out into the rain to cross the square. The group is somewhat damp as they poke in the front door of the Merchant’s Hall. It is quite different today. While there lingers a bit of the barnyard odor, you can also detect the strong smell of vinegar and lye that has been used to scrub the Hall’s floor and some of the walls and pillars. The hall is quite empty, except for a long, narrow table where sits a single gentleman, the insignia on his cloak identifying him as a clerk of the guild. An open book showing pages partly covered with signatures waits in front of him.

Tiberius: I step up to the clerk and ask politely if Johann Mizer is available.

Clerk (npc): “You are Herr Volkmann?”

Tiberius: “Yes. These are my companions.” I motion to the others.

DM: The clerk produces a bell from his tunic and a boy appears from behind a pillar; the boy then runs to fetch Mizer. When Johann appears, he will seem somewhat rushed. But he will reach out for your hand and greet you warmly. He asks after your companions and waits for you introduce them.

Tiberius: I return Johann’s warm greeting.

Johann Mizer (npc): “I did think we would get together, Adelbert,” says Mizer, “but not in the day. Tonight perhaps? I know an excellent beer garden near the baths.”

Tiberius: “Yes, that’s fine. We can meet with you later tonight.” I get the name and location of the beer garden and leave with my companions.

With no one speaking to the contrary, the group leaves and return back to The Pig. There, they find that Kazimir and Josef are already off.

Josef: Should the rain lighten, I would like to go wander the Foreign Quarter looking for vendors, bars, etc., looking perhaps toward Bohemian or Polish neighborhoods.

Kazimir: I will go with Josef to the Foreign Quarter.

DM: The rain is not that heavy at the moment. You head out, and soon see a sign hanging on the front of a building showing the word, “Gospoda.” This is a common description in Silesia for a tavern that caters to soldiers.

Josef: As it is early in the day, I would consider coming back to the Gospoda in the later evening.

[OOC: Perhaps when others go to meet Johann at the beer garden?]

And so that was a short journey. The rain seems to cut short the players’ interest in doing much of anything, at least until the evening.

Tiberius: Not wanting to catch pneumonia, I will stay out of the rain for most of the day, taking the time to dry out at The Pig.

Anshelm: I will be accompanying Tiberius to the beer garden.

Delfig: I will be with him too.

We wait with the party. The rain ceases to fall in the early afternoon, though the weather remains gloomy for the remainder of the day. The high hills to the southwest of Dachau retain a shroud of fog into the evening, with no sign that it will lift before sunset. It is, altogether, a dreary day.

In the afternoon, a message arrives from Johann Mizer as to the location of the beer garden, and an indication that Tiberius and his friends should meet him there at six bells. It is not a great distance; Helmunt, ever eager to please, offers to send a boy with the party to show the way, if only a copper piece is given. One way or another, through the wet streets the trio find their way to the garden, which at first glance is unfortunately in the out of doors.

No Medieval image could be found.

Stepping through an arch constructed of latticework and holly branches, the party finds a group of wet wooden tables and benches. The latticework extends over their heads, and weaved into the frame are more branches, not quite thickly grown with holly leaves—this will take a few weeks yet. In the sunshine it would be a beautiful shaded recluse.

To the group’s delight, however, it is discovered that half the beer garden is roofed, and a solid structure built on three sides. On the fourth side is a roaring fire, fully eight feet wide and four feet deep, in which burns hemlock and yew. Stepping between a few puddles still filling the hollows between the exposed benches, Tiberius, Anshelm and Delfig join the hearty throng of forty people sitting in the warm comfort provided by the fire.

Mizer is there; he happily greets each one of you; introductions are made, and Mizer pleasantly insists that he buy the first round. The day did not begin too well for him; but an arrangement has been made and a silversmith is to be ousted from his rented property a few miles out of town, so that it will be put under Mizer’s ownership.

While hearing this tale, the trio cannot help noticing that the barmaids are exceptional - all beautiful, all quite young and with remarkable ashen skin and near-perfect teeth. This last, of course, would be quite rare to their experience, and Mizer will laugh when he sees his companions noticing it.

He’s quite happy to explain the happenstance. The beer garden is in part owned by an adventurous young fellow, who a few years ago took part as a mercenary in the recent 30 Year’s Holy War, in Saxony. He made his fortune in silver. This young fellow, a paladin, Eberhardt Hornung by name, has since become the darling of the town, and this beer garden is a contribution to his fame. It is true, adds Mizer discreetly, that Hornung also manages a string of harlots … the “cleanest” harlots in Bavaria, since none ever suffers from any disease, not even in their teeth. But Mizer suggests not spreading such rumours that one might hear in a beer garden.

Anshelm: I chuckle to myself as Mizer tells Hornung’s story. “This silversmith ... what’d he do?” I inquire after a moment, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.

Johann (npc): “Oh nothing, I suppose. But it’s not his land, is it? I might have a look at his books, see if he’s worth having as a tenant ... but I’m thinking I’d like to turn the land over to cattle. There might be some trouble, depending on what sort of man he turns out to be - but I’ll send a group of hooligans if I must.”

Anshelm: “Indeed. Sometimes you just need to crack a few skulls when tenants become insolent.”

Delfig: I will be very pleased to see the eye candy and indeed, I will wink and nod and flirt as would best befit a place like this. I’ll try to blend in with the general mood and feeling. Are the two gentlemen who I overheard at the play yesterday here at the garden?

DM: There’s quite a lot of flirting all around - the wenches seem fond of it. But no, you don’t see the gentlemen here.

Delfig [to Johann]: “Why would there be trouble?” I ask rather innocently.

Johann [choosing to answer Anshelm]: “Oh, these country bumpkins, they think they have rights because they pay their money. They never understand that these shacks and flimsy waterwheels they slap together hardly substitute as privileges of land.”

Anshelm: I lean forward. “Yes, the folk ‘round these parts seem the petulant type. Have you had trouble before?”

[OOC: Do we recognize Hornung’s name, by the way?]

In the campaign text, Johann never does answer this question; we should assume that he shrugs.

DM: [OOC: I don’t know ... do you?]

Delfig: If it seems appropriate (and if no one else is playing), I will take out my lyre and begin strumming and continuing to enjoy pleasant conversation. The type of music will be quiet and celebratory, meant to make people feel at ease and enjoy themselves.

DM: There seems less pleasure at your playing here than there would be at The Pig, or gratitude like that given by the cotters. A few of the patrons scowl at you. It is likely they are used to a bard who is at least a member of a College (which you wouldn’t be at 1st level).

Delfig: Then at the first sign showing of lack of appreciation, I will stop playing and choose to ask a question of Johann. “Has there been much unrest from the commoners recently? We encountered quite a shocking sight as we entered the city through the North Gate, recently. We wondered if there had been an uprising.”

Anshelm: I nod at Delfig’s question and wait to hear an answer.

Johann: “Oh yes, the matter of the north blockhouse. Very similar to what I was only just saying. That was nothing more than Von Asper invoking his family’s rights. The inn was never on private land ... and for the defense of the town against the valley bandits it was voted six months ago that the blockhouse be converted into a defensive fortification. I understood there was some resistance to the law, and matters came to a head ... I think the innkeeper was hanged?”

Delfig: I listen impassively and shrug. “Was it the innkeeper who was hanging next to a woman in front of the blockhouse? I didn’t know and thought it best not to ask. Is it normal for the good Baron to take such an involvement in matters like this to where a vote was needed?”

Johann: “That would certainly be the Baron’s privilege.”

Anshelm: I make an impatient gesture. “Yes, yes. Very much the baron’s privilege, and you’ve got to make an example of the rabble, else they all get it in their heads that they can defy the word of law, eh?” I say with a forced smile.

“So, what is it you’d like to speak with our friend Tiberius about? You need someone to provide another example for you, then?” Again, said with the best smile I can muster.

Johann: “Who is Tiberius?”

DM: We'll have Tiberius explain to Johann that it is the name he uses now, rather than Adelbert. Johann signals that he understands.

Anshelm: Understanding that Adelbert wanted to inquire about work with Johann, I say so and add that we have skills of various sorts that could be useful to him.

DM: Johann seems amused. It has to be explained to him that Tiberius is no longer working for the Baron in Friesing, where Tiberius is from. Johann will answer Anshelm, explaining he has no ‘soft work’ that needs doing.

Johann: “You have ‘various’ skills? Have you tried your hand at collections?”

Anshelm: I scratch my chin and look to Delfig and Tiberius for a moment, trying to gauge their reactions. “Collections, eh? I’ve not had the pleasure myself, though I can’t speak for my compatriots. You’ve a pressing need for such employment of late, I take it?”

Johann: “Yes, of course. Someone will have to explain my rights to the silversmith we were just talking about.”

Tiberius [rejoining the campaign]: “I think you’ll find us to be very persuasive men, Johann. And we’re not above a little hard work.”

Johann: “Very well then. Come around to the Guild in the morning and I’ll pay each of you 5 g.p. up front, and up to four other men besides. I’ll send a dogsbody along with you to find your way, and a flat sum of 100 g.p. for all of you once I have proof the action is taken and Herr Meyer is off my land … and since you’re now in my employ, allow me to get the next round, too.”

DM: Revealing that ‘Meyer’ is the name of the silversmith.

Tiberius: I grin. “You’re a very generous man, Herr Mizer. I hope this will be a fruitful relationship for all of us.” I lift my mug, salutes my new employer, and down the beer.

Delfig: As they negotiate, I just pull on my beer and listen.

Anshelm: I take a sip on my beer and nod. I reason that it’s employment.

As the conversation at the beer garden turns to less business matters, Josef and Kazimir choose to return to the foreign quarter, in the evening now. And as I did not give a longer description, I’ll include one now.

The Foreign Quarter is a mashing together of temporary housing and tents staked out on open land, culture-focused taverns and shops, offices for obtaining privileges to begin business in the city or to own land as a foreigner, and people who tend to spend much of their time waiting between opportunities to do casual labor.

Josef: What time is it? Evening, yes?

DM: Yes. You hear the cathedral striking six bells.

Josef: I would like to loiter in the general vicinity of the Gospoda to see if it is very active. Kazimir and I stand outside and talk casually.

DM: The Gospoda has become quite active by this time. However, as you’ve chosen to loiter instead of entering, you’re harassed after a short time by both the town watch (made up of local landlords and their kin) and by one of the tapmen of the tavern. Neither demands that you move on your way, but that is coming. You are able to tell that Gospoda seems to be a meeting place for foreign (largely Silesia and Polish) mercenaries.

Josef: We enter the Gospoda.

DM: You find some forty men inside, equal to your stature, familiar in their behavior - some of them remind you of your taskmasters when you were trained at the use of weapons ages ago. There is much more noise than at the Pig: much pounding of tables, much more rough-housing. You must jostle yourself to the bar to get something to drink - a bottle of ale will cost you a s.p.

Josef: I’ll reach in to my belt pouch and pull out 6 coppers and my holy symbol, and open my hand to the barkeep. I turn to Kazimir and say, “Ach! Silver! Will you buy this round?” while replacing my coins. I turn back to barkeep. “Perhaps you have some simpler fare?”

DM: [OOC: Kazimir does not seem to be watching just now]

The bartender seems about to tell you to leave, when a patron being struck in the face behind you lets out a bellow. You’re just able to get out of the way before the same patron slams face first into the bar. He lifts himself up again, looks towards the fellow who’s hit him and shouts.

Patron (npc) [in pain]: “Criminy, Leo! You’ve broken my tooth!”

Josef: I will leave the Gospoda. Are there sounds of fighting coming from inside?

[OOC: I feel a little hesitant to get into it, without some input from Kazimir]

DM: No.

Josef: Well, what’s done is done. Perhaps I can come back tomorrow and offer my services as unskilled laborer.

Kazimir: I feel restless and leave the Gospoda after Josef, somewhat reluctantly. Kazimir is feeling restless and leaves the Gospoda with Josef somewhat reluctantly. Are there any places in the foreign quarter that might contain places of interest for someone of my ancestry?

[OOC: Curses. I missed the opportunity for fist-a-cuffs]

Josef [before the DM answers]: Of course, we could engage in a little practice-bout, between friends, you and I, and I could then heal whichever of us came-off worse for the wear. I’d wager that would be me, had I the means to back a wager. Maybe then, we should instead wander off to the beer house that our companions occupy?

Kazimir: “Aye. To the beer gardens, then.”

And so, having accomplished little if anything at all, our two players retreat a second time from the foreign quarter. There is little happening there, however, and as the evening winds down the members of the party find their way again to The Pig. The only new agreement that’s been made is that someone should collect their front fee from the Merchant’s Hall, after breakfast.

That night it rains again, more heavily this time, with lightning shaking the tavern’s rafters with its force. As the sun rises on Tuesday the 7th, the sky is clear. It promises to be a beautiful day. In many places on the street and in the square, where the drainage is poor, there are large ponds left from last night’s rain. As the party emerges from the Pig to eat on the outside porch, the temperature is already warm but comfortable. There are three kittens licking at the puddle just a few yards away.

DM: Who will go to the Merchant’s Hall for 5 g.p.?

Anshelm: I will go.

Josef: I’ll go to collect my share.

Kazimir: I’ll go along.

Delfig: I will go, but I continue to be very quiet, as I’m troubled.

Anshelm: “Delfig, have you a thought you’d like to share? I’m not terribly happy at being Mizer’s brute squad, but it’s money. Who knows, we may even find a way to help our silversmith and put the sting to our new employer.

Delfig: I shake my head at Anshelm’s words and whisper to him, “I have a sense of ill wind about this. I think we are getting into the middle of something quite larger than ourselves. I have no wish to ‘sting’ a powerful merchant, neither do I have a wish to be marked by the common men as a lackey to the greedy. It’s a bad situation all around.”

Josef: “I will think no less of you, friend Delfig.”

Anshelm: “My friend, I would think that you, of anyone. would know that life often puts one in such a situation. I’ve no love for greedy merchants, but I’ve no particular loyalty to the folk of this village, either.” I scratch my head thoughtfully before continuing. “Besides,” I say with a grin, “If we manage to come out of this situation alive - and believe me, I feel some of the foreboding you do - think of the songs you’ll spin about it all!”

Josef: “Besides, it is only through action that we experience life and better understand it, after the fact.”

DM: The party, save Tiberius, heads off to the Merchant’s Hall to accept their starting fee. Does anyone have any misgivings?

Anshelm: I definitely don’t. I’m the type to put aside moral considerations for the money if necessary. I’ve learned to live with past misgivings before.

DM: Then, at the Hall, the money is given over by Ells, the dogsbody mentioned the evening before. Ells is 20 years old, a somewhat unkempt fellow, whose body seems to function poorly. He moves with a strange amble towards you, his left leg seeming a good deal shorter than his right. His face hasn’t been cleaned in a few weeks, and he has a distinct body odor.

The party may add 5 g.p. to each of your pouches, which Ells induces a clerk to hand over. Ells expresses Mizer’s apologies for being absent, for he is in a conference with the Lord Mayor’s chief tax farmer this morning. Nevertheless, Ells knows the way you must go. He expresses in a few words, uttered with difficulty, that it will take until mid-day to reach the silversmith’s homestead.

Josef: “What direction? Do you have a cart, Ells? If not, this will be a slow walk.

Ells (npc) [haltingly]: “The vess rudd. No kert.”

Delfig: I take the 5 g.p. without comment. I dress in my leather armor, with my sword lashed to my belt and my crossbow on my back with bolts in a quiver. I look rather impressive in my bulk, but I also stay to the rear of the group, my cloak ready to pull up to mask my features.

Anshelm [watching Delfig]: Good point about the armor and weapons.

DM: You can assume you’re suiting up at The Pig before you get started.

Josef: I’d like to do a bit of shopping before we leave.

DM: Being Tuesday, the market is not open. It will not be until Sunday. You can buy things from the Innkeeper’s table [shown on the overall equipment table].

Ells leads the party through the town, through the edge of the Merchant’s quarter. The West Gate is a good deal smaller than the rather impressive North or South gates. Out of the town, your feet soon fall onto a narrow road, barely wide enough for a wagon, as you drop down into the valley. The Asper river is on your left and there a series of cow and sheep pastures on your right. You note that, while the Asper is perhaps twenty yards across as it passes through the town, where both sides of the river have been embraced by stone walls, here the river is much wider. It is also somewhat shallow and grown with reeds. Numerous sand bars follow its banks. From place to place, as you travel, you find deep ruts crossing the road, where for centuries cattle have been led from the pastures to the river.

The day grows warmer. By ten bells (you can hear the distant toll of the bells of Dachau for a good four miles), to keep from growing very uncomfortable, you will need to doff your cloaks. I cannot remember if anyone has a hat; but if they do, it is greatly appreciated. As you walk, you notice that peasants are rare, and there are no travellers approaching along the road. You see many farms growing rye and other crops, mixed with pasture land. Now and then there are streams, with bridges and guards asking for tolls, but Ells demonstrates a patch of embroidered cloth and metal baubles and you’re exempted from paying. From time to time, where you have climbed a low rise in the road, fifty or a hundred feet, you’ve been able to see extensive, forest-covered foothills rising to the south, perhaps four or five miles away, and purple mountains beyond that; even at a distance of eighty miles, they look impressive, with glaciers visible on their high slopes.

You walk a good five miles to reach a small stone marker, two feet high, describing the distance from Dachau. By then, both sides of the road have grown thick with a mixture of elm and pine trees, with small forested patches falling into darkness on the side opposite the river. There are no longer any farms, nor inhabitants to be seen. Ells points at a much narrower track, hardly wide enough for a cart. As you follow it the track climbs the isolated hill group rising three hundred feet into the hills south of the road. All is forest. The track crosses, then re-crosses a stream as you climb. The plank bridges that you cross show signs of maintenance, and the road is in good condition.

Finally, Ells indicates you are near the silversmith’s house. What preparations do you care to make?

Delfig: I do not have a hat; and by this time I will have removed my cloak. I’ll add explicitly that I have all of my equipment with me.

DM: Whatever weapons and equipment you own, believe that you have them with you.

Anshelm: “Ells, how far are we from the silversmith’s home?”

DM: Ells doesn’t understand what ‘distance’ means. And you’ve learned by now he finds it difficult to speak, so he will mostly answer with one or two words when asked questions. He will not speak unless asked a question. Right now, he points ahead of where you are.

Ells (npc): “Tere.”

Delfig: I will find a convenient tree and stash my pack behind it. I’ll have my lyre hanging under my left arm, as I fight with my right hand. I’ll hold my crossbow in my hand with a bolt notched. I’ll mention to the others: “If any of you have missile weapons, perhaps we should form two groups and check out things ahead, evenly dividing up our long range weapons?”

Anshelm: “A good idea.” I scabbard my sword and pull my sling from my belt pouch.

Kazimir: My sling is ready with a stone in it.

Josef: I’ll have my sling ready and two lead bullets in my off hand. “Let’s stop here for a moment - leaving the packs behind with non-essentials is a good idea.” Or perhaps we should stay in the trees and observe the place, to try to assess how to approach this. We don’t know if it’s a hovel or a manor house. You’d think that a silversmith might take some steps to guard his raw-materials, if not his finished products.

“Ells, does the smith have guards?

DM: Ells will shake his head at Josef’s question. Then he moves to Delfig, clearly discouraging the bard from stashing any stuff.

Ells [emphatically]: “Beets.”

DM: If asked, the dogsbody will only repeat himself more emphatically, saying the same word over and over.

As you look around, you can see that the deadfall and the thickness of the forest will make it difficult to move through. It would be quieter to progress along the cart track.

Josef: I will keep my pack on me. “Ells, why do you come with Tiberius and me, to try to convince him that he must go … while the others circle around and set his place on fire or some such …?” (just making suggestions)

Anshelm: I take Josef aside. “I’m not sure if Ells could convince the smith; it rather seems he’d end up confusing the man! What does he mean by ‘beets,’ anyway?”

[OOC: Not that my confusion about “beets” keeps me from picking up my gear again!]

Josef: “Maybe the beets of this wood are baby goblins that steal unattended goods. We could dig one up and see.” I turn again to Ells. “What’s the beets, hundemann?”

Ells: “Beets!”

DM: As I said, Ells is unable to explain what he means by ‘beets.’ It seems self-evident to him.

Delfig: I pick my pack up again. “Could mean ‘bats,’ could mean ‘beasts.’ “

Josef: I think that the stealthiest of us should go up the path and try to see what’s what up ahead. I’m not sure that I can count myself among the stealthiest present today.

Delfig: “Although I’m large, I could attempt to sneak quietly forward. I can try to be quiet.”

Anshelm: I say to the group that I can attempt to scout ahead, but can’t guarantee I won’t be seen, especially as the woods aren’t conducive to stealthy movement. “Then again, p’raps it’s best to take a direct approach, eh?”

Josef: I’ll watch anyone’s pack that goes ahead, if they need to lighten up.

Anshelm: “Well, if you’ll watch it, Josef, I’ll leave my backpack.” I say to Delfig, “We can scout ahead together, perhaps splitting to either side of the home when we approach it, eh?” I have a sudden inspiration: “I think it’s ‘Beasts’ he’s trying to say, maybe?”

Kazimir: I’m ready to proceed.

Delfig: Yes, I’m moving ahead.

Tiberius: Can I cast Armor before going?

DM: If you want.

Josef: I’ll shift my sling to my left-hand and pull my mace from my belt. “If you encounter trouble, yell and we’ll come.”

And so, four go forward, leaving Josef waiting.

As the party fails to specify, it’s assumed they continue on the cart track, which rises up and over a small spur, a mere thirty foot climb. From the top, the three can look down into a small meadow a hundred yards across, on both sides of the stream on the way up. From where you are, you can see varying structures are on the opposite bank … but the stream is quite shallow, and filled with stones to fashion a wide ford.

At one point a channel has been cut into the stream, and above the channel a well-placed dam across the stream creates a substantial pool, thirty yards across - this feeds into the channel, creating a rushing flow before the water is restored to the natural stream bed. The rushing water powers a waterwheel, by all appearances built by a master craftsman. It connects to a cylindrical structure twenty feet in height and twenty feet in diameter. The shingles on the roof of the cylinder have been replaced in the last three years, and the building appears to have been painted the previous fall - it is a bright forest green in color.

Near this structure, to the right, is a low, flat stone and plaster house, crystal-white in color, with glazed glass windows set into expertly fitted frames, quite symmetrical to the eye. A stoop, with a wooden awning to protect the main door from the weather, extends in a cobbled stone half-circle ten feet from the house, to a graciously tailored yard where chickens and three piglets are at the moment feasting. A woman is assiduously cleaning the house’s windows. Further to the right is a barn, smallish but much in the same condition as the mill, also painted recently and in the same forest green. Between the barn and the river is planted an extensive vegetable garden, showing a smudge of green to suggest the first shoots rising. Squinting your eyes, you can see four children, on their knees, appearing to weed the garden.

Delfig: I’ll move along behind the others as we approach. I motion quietly that we should stay in the woods and observe for a moment, behind trees.

Anshelm: I agree with Delfig. We should check out the physical area first, see what we can see, then split if need be from there.

DM: Surrounding the buildings I’ve just described, there is little else, except meadow and the thick forest. Upon closer examination, you may see a small, indefinable collection of wooden frames on the stream below the house; and twenty yards beyond a hefty sawhorse.

Tiberius: I wait for Delfig and Anshelm to complete their observations of the area.

Delfig: The meadow is 100 yards across. Assuming 20 yards for structure in the middle, we should be able to circle around and observe what else is behind it, staying in the forest. I’ll quietly confer with the other two, suggesting that one of us makes a slow circle around the place, staying in the woods, walking quietly, to observe and see what we can see.

Anshelm: I offer to reconnoiter. “I’m not sure how successful I’ll be; the undergrowth is quite thick here, and there are several ears in the meadow that might hear. I can only hope they’ll be preoccupied with their work to notice a stranger thrashing about in the brush!” Taking a look at the meadow again, I take a bit of snuff before saying, “I’m not sure if we could ford the stream while in the woods, either. At the very least, I’ll be able to get a closer look at the homestead.”

DM [rolling dice]: Although you move far from the edge of the meadow, it becomes clear to the observers hidden near the cart track that the residents of the homestead can hear something moving in the bushes. The mother calls her children to come to the door of the house, and goes herself to collect the three-year-old from where it continues to sit in the vegetable garden. Beyond peering into the woods, the mother seems unconcerned.

Anshelm, you will find there is nothing special to be seen on the far side of the homestead, except that the house has no back door and the door to the mill is on that side.

Delfig: Do we hear any sounds of smithing or other metalwork coming from the structure?

DM: If there were any sounds coming from within the mill, they would be drowned out by the sound of the wheel going round and round and the gushing of water.

Delfig: “Hmm. Nobody else about and the lady of the house appears to be watchful. But she did not call for her husband. He may not be home. I suggest we send one person to act friendly and inquire as to his whereabouts.”

Anshelm: I work back to where Josef is waiting. When I get there, I’ll say, “I don’t think they’ll be surprised to know someone’s about. However, it doesn’t look like we’ll be surprised by anything, either.”

DM: It could be that the residents think you’re a beet.

Delfig: I repeat my suggestion about sending one person up to inquire to the smith’s whereabouts. “If we go up there like an army, we’re liable to get a bad response. One of us goes up there, inquires if he’s about, then asks to speak to him on behalf of Mizer. Bring him over here, and we can have a discussion. The rest of us can be waiting for him to arrive.”

DM: Apparently, no one answers.

Delfig: Sigh. I’ll take the reins, and march my bad-feeling-about-this butt up to the house and greet the woman.

DM: As you approach, more detail becomes clear. Some twenty yards from the house, you’ll notice for the first time a small Cross of David over the door, indicating that they’re Jewish. The woman sees Delfig and raises her hand in greeting.

Frau Meyer (npc): “Good day, Sir.”

Delfig: “Good day Frau. Is Herr Meyer about?”

Frau Meyer: “Herr Meyer is in his shop. Will you wait while I fetch him?”

Delfig: “I nod my assent. “Of course, Frau.”

While he waits, Josef, without explanation, decides to take it upon himself to act very strangely … from the DM’s perspective, parsing out that which makes sense, it seems as though Josef loses his mind:

Josef [to himself, as no one else is present]: Perhaps we should use our Ells to show the silversmith what’s coming his way … who doesn’t get the message of a body in his yard at sundown? I think that’s a good idea; among some other ones …

The beet-lover [Ells] holds a pass [his merchant guild’s patch]. I could don his robe and use it to speak with the doorman … I apologize. I was speaking to characters not present with me. It is difficult with splitting the party, and also never knowing when the other players are going to contribute. I’ve been trying to think of some strategies to deal with this…

I cast my command spell at Ells, using the word, “Sleep.”

DM: Ells makes no move to disrupt the spell before it is cast, and conks out. The spell lasts only 2 rounds.

Josef: I’ll wait 5 seconds. If no one else makes a move I’ll attack him.

[OOC: Conscious of what Josef is doing, several members of the Player party mistakenly attempt to converse with Josef … but in fact they are all too far away to even see what is going on, much less be heard.]

Josef [to himself]: “He is a werewolf” I smash him with my mace.

DM: Suddenly, Josef puts Ells out of the misery that is his life. 10 x.p. to Josef.

Josef: Okay. I’ll start dragging the body into the woods. I take the patch he showed to the toll-takers, and then sit and pray for 10 minutes to help guide his soul through the roots, into the ground.

[OOC: Attached to these events were a series of miscommunications, mixed with DM complicity and a failure to properly identify who was where, much of this due having played D&D by blog for a short while. These were exacerbated by several errors on my part, discussed in this post, Messing Up.]

Let us return to the Meyer homestead and yard, where Delfig watches Frau Meyer walk away towards the mill, to fetch her husband. So, Delfig finds himself waiting in front of the house door, where the various children of the house watch him. The three older children, two boys and a girl, all younger than ten, seem somewhat fearful. The girl in particular watches Delfig with large, worried eyes. The three year old boy sits against the door jamb and plays with a blade of grass he’s just found. He blows on it again and again, watching it dance as he grips it.

Delfig: While waiting, I’ll smile at the children. The sun feels nice on my back and a part of me wishes that I could be successful at my music and dance so I could afford a place such as this.

DM: Soon Frau Meyer returns, with Herr Meyer. Delfig sees them coming across the grass towards him. A chicken steps daintily out of their way.

Delfig: I’ll gauge Herr Meyer as he walks up.

Herr Meyer (npc): “Yes?”

DM: He seems just curious or normal.

Delfig: I’ll smile and nod. “Herr Meyer, I am Johann. I come from Dachau and I would like to speak to you a moment about business ...” I’ll motion him to walk with me towards the party.

DM: Meyer will come forward a couple of steps at Delfig’s urging, but then he will stop.

Herr Meyer: What is this about?

Delfig: I smile again. “Herr Meyer, I’ve been asked to discuss a matter with you of some importance. I can assure you that I mean you no harm, I only wish to talk to you. My assistant has lagged behind me and I am waiting for him to join us. Please, it’s a lovely day and I believe you will benefit from the talk.” I motion and walk slowly.

DM: He doesn’t move. He clearly doesn’t trust you.

Herr Meyer [to his wife]: “Melanie. Go into the house.”

Delfig: (OOC - Scheiß!)

“Herr Meyer, you are not in any danger. Please, come talk with me. If I wanted to harm you, I would have done so without regard.”

Herr Meyer [his voice rising]: “What is this? Who are you?”

Delfig: I sigh and shake my head. “Please Herr Meyer, do not yell at me. I am Johann Keschel and I come on behalf of a mutual business partner. I was sent to inquire as to your living arrangements and your use of this land.”

Herr Meyer: “What?”

Delfig: “This land, Herr Meyer ... is it your land, or do you indeed rent from a merchant in Dachau? I was sent to inquire if you were leaving the homestead or not.”

As the conversation continues, the player characters standing at a distance cannot help paying attention.

Tiberius: I curse. “Looks like Delfig has his hands full. Should we go and help him?”

Kazimir: Can we clearly hear the conversation between Meyer and Delfig?

DM: Not very clearly, no. You’re about 50 yards away, half the width of the clearing. But you can see from their positions it is not going well.

Kazimir: “We’ll give Delfig a bit more time to wag his silvered tongue, and then if it don’t work, we make it nasty and quick and sort the rest out later.” How far apart are Delfig and Meyer standing? I’m considering a shot with the sling if things start to really go south … for instance, if Herr Meyer should suddenly produce a weapon.

DM: About 10 feet apart.

Tiberius: The situation is not going well. “Let me give our friend Delfig some help.” I hand my weapons to my companions, so as to appear less threatening and walk toward Herr Meyer and Delfig. I’ll cast charm person as soon as I’m in range, counting on Meyer not being able to react in time.

DM: Delfig will see Tiberius emerge from the trees, as he can’t help keeping a watch for the others.

Delfig: Seeing Tiberius, I’ll motion him over, waving at him. “See, there is my assistant now. Helmut! Over here!”

DM: Herr Meyer is now keeping his eyes on both Delfig and Tiberius. He will speak to Delfig.

Herr Meyer: “I rent from the Baron von Asper. This is HIS land.”

Delfig [to Meyer]: “Ah, my apologies. I was under the impression that Herr Mizer and you were in negotiations regarding the status of this land.”

Herr Meyer: “Who in the name of Moses is Herr Mizer?”

Delfig: I hold back my instinct to do a doubletake. “Herr Meyer, Johann Mizer is a merchant of no small reputation in Dachau. It was my understanding that you and he were negotiating for the use of this land. Are you saying that you deal directly with the Baron?”

DM: To remind Delfig, Mizer’s words at the beer garden were, “...an arrangement has been made and a silversmith is to be ousted from his rented property a few miles out of town, so that it will be put under Mizer’s ownership.”

Herr Meyer: “Of course with the Baron. I have no idea who this Mizer individual is.”

DM: Tiberius should consider himself close enough now to join the conversation.

Tiberius: “It doesn’t matter whether you know him or not,” I say impatiently. “He knows you, and you’re on his land. That needs to be corrected. Take any grievances you have with your patron, but you will leave here today.” I signal for the others to approach.

The signal is seen by those in the trees, resulting in action from the remaining two characters.

Anshelm: I sigh as I see Tiberius motion the group forward. “Well, we’d best present a united front, eh, friends?” I say, replacing my sling from my belt pouch and unsheathing my sword.

Kazimir: I advance with Anshelm. I have put my sling back on my belt, and am carrying my club and shield. I don’t have them raised yet.

As they begin to move, the tension between Delfig, Tiberius and Herr Meyer escalates.

Herr Meyer: “What? What are you talking about?”

Tiberius: “I mean that you, your wife, your children, everyone, have been to commanded to leave on the authority of the owner of this land, Herr Mizer. If you do not do so, there will be consequences.”

DM: Meyer will back up, putting ten feet between himself and Delfig or Tiberius. “Where is your writ of seizure?”

Delfig: At Tiberius’s words, I hold up my hands. “Now, we don’t need to be so hasty, good Helmut. I’m sure Herr Meyer here is a reasonable man and doesn’t need to be threatened so.”

Tiberius: Did we ever get one from Herr Mizer?

DM: No, you never got one from Mizer.

Tiberius: Then I will pull my writ of passage from my backpack, relying on the fact that silversmith cannot read. Either way, I will say, “See? We have the right of law on our side, Herr Meyer.”

DM: Meyer might be willing to step forward to see Tiberius’ writ of passage – but more likely he would insist on you opening it up and showing it. However, just then he sees Anshelm and Kazimir coming over the hill, armed. Meyer leaps and runs towards the woods.

Tiberius: I curse. I shout over at Anshelm and Kazimir, to run after Meyer. I turn to Delfig. “Let’s go and secure the wife and children. Perhaps we can use them to force Meyer to be reasonable.”

Delfig: I look at Tiberius sourly. “Excellent job. Now you’ve scared him away. I’m not going to ‘secure’ women and children, and to suggest that is abhorrent.”

I take off running after Meyer. “Wait! Do not let my associates scare you away. We mean you no harm!”

Anshelm: Gah, why’d I pull out the sword?! I’m face-palming for real right now. I curse and run to cut off Meyer’s escape.

DM: Delfig is fairly close on Meyer’s heels, perhaps twenty-five feet behind. Meyer jumps through a patch of hawthorn bushes and goes cutting off between the trees, making no attempt to look back over his shoulder at the house. He pays no attention to Delfig. His path is straight as an arrow.

The terrain and vegetation, as I said, is full of deadfall and quite dense, but Meyer’s path is fairly open, suggesting that a patch of the forest has been managed. At any rate, Delfig has a little trouble keeping up only because Delfig is in leather armor, while Meyer is unarmored.

By the time Anshelm is able to reach the edge of the woods, he has no idea where either Delfig or Meyer is.

Anshelm: I curse and sheathe my blade. “Well, at least we’ve got five gold to show for our troubles,” he says.

DM: Kazimir pulls up behind Anshelm, in the same circumstance. Both have no idea where Delfig and Herr Meyer are.

Tiberius: Having no weapon, I will stay where I am.

Anshelm: “Tiberius, where’d they go!?”

DM: To clarify, Tiberius is some thirty yards away, having remained by the house, while Anshelm and Kazimir ran to the edge of the homestead clearing before losing track of Delfig and Meyer. Let’s say Tiberius can barely hear Anshelm’s question.

As the realization that they’ve lost track of their friend, let us leave Anshelm, Kazimir and Tiberius behind for a moment, and follow Delfig as he chases Herr Meyer.

Delfig: Can I put on a burst of speed and tackle him?

DM: You’re having trouble just keeping up!

Delfig: At some point, I’m going to realize that I’m not not going to catch him.

DM: Saying that, as Delfig is about to give up, both he and Herr Meyer burst into a small clearing, about eighteen feet across. Between two trees in the clearing is a cross-pole, about seven feet off the ground, which has hanging on it a line of rabbit skins, long dried out. Meyer leaps for the pole, sweeps off the skins and turns to face Delfig, holding the pole like a quarterstaff.

Delfig: I draw my sword and drop into a fighting stance. “Herr Meyer, I do not wish to kill you, or even harm you. My companion was too overbearing and intent on fulfilling a task that I do not agree with. Please, let’s talk before we have to shed blood.”

DM: Apparently, Meyer is too concerned about his family to have a chat. Roll initiative.

Delfig: I grab dice and roll a 3.

DM: Meyer rolls a 5, winning initiative. He attacks with his quarterstaff, rolling a d20 and missing.

Delfig: “Scheiß!” I turn and run, yelling out for help.

The sound carries through the forest, so that the rest of the party hears Delfig cry out. It should be understood that the sound is too far for Tiberius to have heard it.

Anshelm: I take off toward the sound of Delfig’s voice.

Kazimir: I will hesitate for a second, look to see if Tiberius is coming, and then head after Anshelm.

Tiberius: Not without weapons.

DM: Within just three combat rounds, Anshelm and Kazimir will see Delfig running towards them, alone.

Kazimir: I will call out to Delfig.

Delfig: Once I see that Herr Meyer isn’t in pursuit, I’ll stop and catch my breath. “I chased the smith to a clearing a short ways behind me. He grabbed a stave and swung at me. I don’t know if he’s skilled or not, but he showed no fear at me holding a sword. With the three of us, he might be more easily dealt with or negotiated with. However, he might also have run the other way. I think we should approach cautiously and slowly, to see if he’s still there or run away again.”

Anshelm: “Just lovely,” I say. I agree with Delfig.

Kazimir: “Wait a minute, lads ... I have a point of discussion to bring up. Something is amiss with our having no writ of seizure. Perhaps we need to re-evaluate the situation before we try to confront Meyer again. I think we’re played for fools by Herr Mizner.”

Delfig: I’m still sucking wind after that long chase, and then flight. “He certainly did not seem as I had pictured him when Mizer sent us to rout out a ‘silversmith’. He almost shoved his stave up my nose. I can still hear the whistle.

“Herr Meyer’s a Jew, for one thing. You know what that means. He claims to be renting from the Baron and that he has no clue of Herr Mizer or any arrangement. We have no writ and now we look more like thugs, which gives Meyer a reason to distance himself from us. Mizer spoke of an arrangement, but I don’t know any more than that.”

I’ll pause for a minute to see if Meyer comes back through the woods.

“Well, he either is off to get help, or he’s waiting for us to make the next move. Safety in numbers. We should go back and investigate the house and shop.”

Anshelm: “It does appear we’ve been played for fools. Mizer certainly knew what he was dealing with when we asked him for work.” A bit dejected, I look at my companions. “We have to try to right this situation somehow, to keep our skins if nothing else. So: are we with Mizer or Meyer? Myself, my sympathies lie with the smith.”

DM: There’s no sign of Herr Meyer; however, for Tiberius’ benefit, there is now smoke rising from the chimney of the house.

Anshelm: “Well, let’s not stand here waiting for the ‘beets’ to get us. I doubt we’d be able to speak with Frau Meyer at this point. Do we just wait for the smith to return?”

Delfig: “Let’s rejoin our friends and see what they have found.” I head back to the farmhouse.

Anshelm: I nod and follow Delfig.

Delfig: When we rejoin Tiberius, I’ll relate the same info from before: the smith backed me up with a stave and I wasn’t ready to fight someone who might be better prepared than we thought. I’ll point to the Star of David and note that we seem to have stumbled into something way over our heads. “So, do we remain here and perhaps face a mob of angry Jews or do we hide in the trees and skulk about a bit to see what occurs? Or do we check out the mill? If we agree to pull back, let’s at least get into the trees a bit away before we discuss where to go next.”

Kazimir: “Maybe travelling to Augsburg just now would be good. We should lay low until we can get this figured out.”

Anshelm: I nod in agreement with Delfig. “Kazimir, I believe you’ve mentioned the only option available to us at this point: lie low.” Scratching an itch, I continue. “I’ve no idea what motives lie behind this misadventure, and could care less to be truthful, but I will not risk my life for one such as Mizer. And we’re past being able to reason with Meyer.” With a sardonic smile, I finish, “We’ve been looking for a way out of Dachau for some time now. It appears that we’ve been granted our wish.”

Delfig: I am now overtly moving away from the house and into the woods, motioning to the others to follow. “We can explain later, if needs be. I agree, we need to be cautious and make sure we’re not pursued ... let’s get going, NOW!”

Anshelm: “You’re right, best to move now.”

Delfig: I will move along the track back towards the main road for a few minutes then move off to the left and find a decent spot to rest a minute and discuss.

Anshelm: I follow.

Tiberius: I agree with lying low for now. I move with the rest of the party.

Taking steps to bring the party together again, at last, Anshelm, Delfig, Kazimir and Tiberius meet Josef, climbing up the other side of the rise, to the point where everyone can see the homestead below – where before the party waited, while Delfig went to talk to Frau Meyer. Josef seems flushed and anxious. Quickly, the party makes Josef aware of the high points of what has happened, explaining that they’ve made a terrible mistake with approaching the Homestead too aggressively.

DM: While talking to Josef, Delfig catches sight of Herr Meyer crossing his front yard and entering the mill, opening a door near the waterwheel, presumedly informing the rest of the party.

Josef: I run to shouting distance of the house, keeping an eye on the windows for signs of attack. If I see any, I’ll stop. When I’m close enough, I shout, “A man in Dachau, named Johann Mizer, wishes ill of you! He would have had us come to kill you! We are sorry to have troubled you – we will never trouble you again!”

Herr Meyer [from inside the mill]: “If you are sincere, throw aside your weapons and step away from them.”

Delfig: I listen. I’ll take a glance at the woods, to see if there’s anyone who might be watching from the woods, as Meyer’s ally. If it seems safe, then I’ll move to join Josef.

Josef: I toss my weapons five or six feet, towards the mill. “We don’t know what his motives were. He hired us as ruffians.”

Delfig: I glance at the rest of the party and see if they are of a similar mind to disarm. I’ll toss my weapons out of immediate reach, but close enough that I can grab them at a run.

As other members of the party speak as if they had followed Delfig, we will treat them as though that was the case.

Anshelm: If I see the others do so, I carefully set my sword on the grass and move to stand by Josef.

DM: You see Herr Meyer emerge from the shop, and stand about twenty yards away from Josef and the others, including Tiberius and Kazimir. Herr Meyer will be carrying four war hammers. He drops two in the grass at his feet, but continues to hold one in each hand. He will suggest that Kazimir and Tiberius also disarm themselves.

Tiberius: “I don’t have any weapons.” I gave them to Kazimir, to hold for me.

Herr Meyer: “I’m waiting.”

Anshelm [eyes on Meyer]: “Kazimir, weapons down, man!”

Kazimir: I will also disarm.

Herr Meyer [to Tiberius]: “You. What made you think you had the right to threaten me or my family? Who is this merchant you mentioned? This supposed landlord of this property?”

Tiberius: I shrug. “All I know is what my employer told me. He told me to deliver the news to the current occupant and to see that he leaves. If my words threatened you, it is because I am a zealous worker.

Herr Meyer: And this Johann Mizer sent you to push me off my land, which I rent from my Lord the Baron. Without papers! I do not recognize your authority. Why would it not be the Baron himself? With armed guards and his written seal?”

Tiberius: Very well. You are correct, we do not have a writ of seizure. I had hoped to trick you earlier, because I had believed you to be a simpleton. It is apparent that this is not the case. And that you are a man that is not easily intimidated.” I eye the warhammers. “Still, we have our job, although it seems some of us are less than enthusiastic about it. Divided as we are, it seems we will be unable to complete it.”

Herr Meyer: “Then I suggest you return to your employer and tell him that you’ve failed. Get off my land.”

Anshelm: I clear my throat. “Herr Meyer, we’ve little inclination to return to our employer. To be honest, we had little heart for removing a man from his rightful lands. And it’s clear that Mizer played us for fools, and played us well, at that! I tell you, it leaves a foul taste in my mouth, and I’d like nothing more than a chance to return his insult.

Delfig: I nod in response to Anshelm’s speech.

Anshelm: “I would think that, even if we were to leave and never return to Dachau, Mizer would try again to remove you from your home. Perhaps there is benefit in our working together against a common enemy.”

Herr Meyer: “What can you show me that I may trust your word?”

Delfig: “There is probably very little we can show you something to prove our word, and you have every right to be suspicious of us. You have only our actions, in that we’ve agreed to lay down our weapons, and the fact that we’re telling you all this, to perhaps assist you. We do not understand what is going on here, aside from that your ouster and the deaths of an apparently innocent Innkeeper seem a bit too coincidental. Our fates are sealed. We are unable to return to Dachau now. What would you have us do to prove our word?”

Continued in Part 3 ...

Senex Campaign 1: First Day in Dachau

Note: "OOC" = Out of Campaign

It is early afternoon on a Sunday, May 5, 1650. Four of you are resting yourselves on the porch of a town gasthaus, The Pig, at the corner where a narrow lane meets with the town square. You’re waiting for your friend Kazimir to arrive. Not long ago, you watched the usual scattering of most of the citizenry from the town cathedral’s doors from your usual place across the square…whereupon the gasthaus threw open its doors for business. A number of stalls and tables were quickly erected by teams of young boys in the employ of their merchant masters, a goodly number of them against the side wall of the church, where you can the usual piles of vegetables and sacks. Various less blessed members of the town are picking them over, haggling with the sellers and stuffing their bought wares into sacks to be hauled off to the various common quarters of the town.

The bartender, Helmunt, fills your drinks at no charge. Upon an agreement, the four of you have been given the privilege of drinking free in exchange for your endorsement, your willingness to put an end to any trouble and the simple fact that you represent the higher end of Helmunt’s clients. He has hopes that your presence on his front stoop might expose the quality of his kitchen to a few of the better members of the town.

You’re bored. This has been the routine for nearly two months now. You four, Tiberius, Josef, Delfig and Anshelm, met on a cold morning in mid-spring (for the region), finding yourselves all stranger, fairly compatible with one another and equally of the opinion that many of the vicissitudes of life are unappreciated by most. At the moment, however, you could stand a few more changes than there have been.

But it is a fine day; May Day celebrations were four days ago. The Bishop of Friesing, the nominal lord of the town, along with Dachau’s burghermeister, gave a fine festival--and since, all of you have been fairly restless. The discussions around the table have suggested a number of reasons for this…that you can’t stay in this dull town forever. That it is these ridiculous Catholics with their fascinations with guilt and sin. That a small taste of the outside world has whet your appetites. But what to do now is left to your minds to conceive. So far, there has been little luck there.

Delfig Kôlhupfer, the Bard/Thief: Has anyone visited The Pig that would have given us reason to think they might have something interesting to talk about? Was anything said or done at the May festival that would have be interesting to follow up?

Is there anything interesting in terms of other ‘strangers’ being in town?

I’ll most likely be idly strumming my lyre and humming, seeing if anyone is interested in a song (and parting with a few coins in appreciation.)

DM: No, no and no.

Anshelm Helbelinc, the Thief: I spit and gesture at the marketgoers. “Like little rats, out and back to their holes.”

I reach for my snuff box. Is there anything unusual going on among the merchants and common folk? Any unusual people? Even if it’s not unusual, does anyone look like they’re casing the crowd for an easy mark?

DM: No, no and no. Gentlemen, this is not a ‘story’ campaign. There’s no rule, no plan, no set-up. Nothing will be handed to you on a plate. You will have to make a decision about what you, as a group, want to ‘do,’ and then set about doing it.

I know you’re not used to that. But sadly, there are no ‘unusual’ people. You might see the church’s head deacon poking about the chicken cages at one of the stalls.

Josef Mieszko, the Cleric: I’ll ask Helmunt the next time he comes to the table if he knows of any legends or rumors of the town or vicinity where profit might be gained by adventurers such as ourselves.

Tiberius, the Fighter/Mage: “Gentlemen …” I take a slow swig of my drink. “We’re all bored. No disrespect to our fine patron for the free beer, of course.” I salute the owner. “But, why don’t we hire ourselves out to one of those merchants and see if we can’t see some real action?”

Anshelm: “Eh, why shouldn’t we? It’s better than chasing errant rats back to their hiding holes. Should we wait for friend Kazimir?” I continue scanning the market crowd while speaking. “Not sure I like the look of any of ‘em, though...”

[OOC: This doesn’t mean that Anshelm’s against it; he just doesn’t like people in general]

Delfig: I nod to myself as I remember a request. I dig into my pouch, fishing out four silver pieces and tossing them to Josef. “I know I’ll see that again ... especially when we get off our collective asses and start seeing what we can see.”

Josef: “Thanks, Delfig.”

Delfig: “Lets wander about and see what is happening.”

With that, I will stand and start walking about the marketplace, strumming my lyre. If any seem interested, I’ll greet them and play a bit if they seem interested. I make sure to approach the various merchants, nodding and smiling, calling out a friendly greeting. If any seem inclined to talk, then I’ll start a conversation with them, inquiring about any local news or if they have any sort of interesting work to discuss.

Anshelm: “Well, I guess Delfig’s made our decision for us. A pretty song, at least.” I follow the bard into the crowd.

DM: People show a vague interest in Delfig; but of course, they’ve seen him before, doing exactly this most every day; and frankly, there are better bards in the town.

Delfig: If there’s nothing of interest around the market and everyone seems boring, I’ll go back and join Josef and Tiberius and suggest that perhaps we go for a walk away from town along one of the roads. Maybe it’s time for a road trip to Ingolstadt.

While Delfig and Anshelm wander out and back, Josef and Tiberius make their own plans.

Josef: I’ll go to the grocer and purchase some rations, and then return to the gasthaus.

Tiberius: I get up as well, and search among the merchants who have the more expensive wares, asking if they need any guards for their caravans.

DM: Helmunt the bartender, having overhead Tiberius’s suggestion, will stop Josef and Tiberius just before they go.

Helmunt (npc bartender): “Are you bonded to the merchant’s guild? Would it be possible for me to post a small notice in favor of my establishment?”

Tiberius: “An excellent idea, my good man.”

Josef: We’re not bonded, no. But perhaps we should go to the Guildhall then to sell our services instead of frightening the fishmongers and fruit vendors!

DM: Helmunt is confused by Tiberius’s answer. He looks askance at Josef.

Helmunt (slowly): “Would you be hired if you were not bonded?”

Josef: My guess, Tiberius, is that we’d be on our own with the Merchant’s Guild. There must be a guildhall somewhere. I’d not be opposed to hiring on to a march to Nuremburg, either.

Tiberius (not answering Helmunt): I ask Helmunt the location of the guild hall and start there.

Josef: “Tiberius, wait! I’m not certain that such a place exists. Thinking about it, it seems that perhaps we’d have a better time talking to one or a few of the shopkeepers who provided us our gear of late. It seems it would be one of these men, who actually deal in goods brought into town, that might be inclined to bond us.”

Tiberius: “Okay, let’s do that.”

DM: You need not ask. The merchant’s guild hall is the large three-story building across the principal square from the cathedral.

Josef: Perhaps the apothecary is in need of some materials - I used to engage in similar activities in my youth. Or we could go hunting, and sell pelts to the furrier. Oh heck. “Let’s you and I, as learned men Tiberius, inquire at the Merchant’s Guild.”

Tiberius: “Then, we’re agreed.” Setting down my cup, I walk over to the guild hall with Josef.

The details of the characters’ actions are interrupted as the players have a discussion about merchants and their interests, learning something about the trade in Dachau.

Anshelm: How often do merchant caravans enter or leave Dachau? Is anyone selling any sort of luxury item, something that might attract the attention of highwaymen, etcetera?

Josef: I wonder. The roads here seem safe - I wonder how much need there would be for such protection as we might provide. Still, money is money - and I have precious little.

DM: The principle trade route reaches from Italy through Innsbruck in the south, to Northern Germany through Nuremberg, north of Dachau. Beer, precision tools and metals tend to move south; fabrics, spices, incense and perfumes tend to come north. Everything attracts the attention of highwaymen. The roads are not that safe.

Delfig: Are there any merchants that are from out of town or bearing unusual wares? Do we hear any particular discussions of interest about goings on in other towns, or anything with regards to local happenings? If there are, I’ll keep an ear out and see what I can hear.

DM: There are not a great many merchants, and very few caravans. Peddlers and merchants with one or two wagons tend to dribble into the city steadily.

Posting yourself to the north or south of town would allow you the opportunity to meet one directly. Of course, merchants often conceal valuable goods under ordinary goods, such as hay, sacks of grain, uncut timber and so on.

Tiberius: What do we have to do to get bonded to the merchant’s guild? Can Helmunt get us an introduction to someone over there?

DM: Helmunt thought he might get an introduction from you, thinking you were a part of the guild. To get bonded, you must have a merchant of the guild vouch for you.

Josef: Everyone is so fascinated by the merchants. The lure of all this money. But yes, Ingolstadt seems like an interesting place, and I’m fit for some short travel. These towns are one and the same to me ... I’d like to get out among the trees and steams again.

Delfig: [OOC: Perhaps we should inquire to the merchants guild and see about becoming ‘bonded’ since such things have escaped any of our attention. While you and Josef do that, perhaps Anshelm and I can move to the northern road and see what we can see. We’ll meet here in a couple of hours if we don’t hear from you]

Is there more than one guild of merchants? Do any larger merchants have homes established here that we would know about? Where could we find notices of news or other things going on, aside from rumor and listening at the drinking holes?

[OOC: I am trying to think like a bored medieval bard in Dachau]

DM: There’s only one merchant’s guild in Dachau, but every trading town has a guild. There are several large homes maintained by merchants. The Burghermeister, Martin Folkes, is a merchant, and the royal family, Wittelsbach, has considerable interest (and family members) in the guild.

Most of the rumors that one might hear would be who was sleeping with whom or questions that the taxes are likely, or not likely to increase.

Arriving back at The Pig, Delfig and Anshelm make up their minds to try something different.

Delfig: “Anshelm, let’s go to the northern road and keep our eyes open. At the very least, we can see who is on the road as we make our way north, should we choose to.”

Anshelm: I grumble a bit, as is my wont, but nod assent to Delfig, ready to accompany my friend to the northern road. Before setting off, however, I call back over my shoulder: “Helmunt, can you tell our friend Kazimir that we’re out and about, friend?”

But we do not stay with these two. Instead, we follow what is happening with Josef and Tiberius.

The pair step into the Market Hall, to find a great space, some sixty feet long and thirty feet wide. There are many stalls set up, selling salt, beer, snuff, wine, carved wooden toys, parchment, glassware and brass instruments, all the luxury goods made in Dachau. A twin line of pillars, surmounted by great arches holding up the twenty-foot ceiling, stand between the tables and frames supporting various goods which are hung on display. Straw has been scattered over the floor, as here and there goats, pigs and chickens roam freely between the tables along with both the patrons and artisans. These are not the merchants of the guild; the main floor is opened each Sunday for those craftsmen and peddlers who work in shops in the hills surrounding the town, who must have a protected place to sell their valuables.

At each end of the hall are a flight of stairs, without railings, which follow the end walls up into the ceiling. At the bottom of each rest three guards, while one stands ostensibly at attention.

On the pillar nearest to the door where you enter is a notice board. On it is nailed a piece of parchment which reads, “The town Brux herewith announces that a price guarantee will be granted for beef at 3,231 gold pieces per ton. This guarantee is valid for a delivery that arrives no later than the first day of June”

Above that is a second notice, which reads, “The town of Dachau seeks a company of soldiers who will perform duties in the defense of those good families that dwell within. There is need for no less than thirty men, well-equipped, led by a learned gentleman of quality standing. The weekly pay shall be 347 gold pieces”

And above that, a third notice, which reads, “The Lord Mayor’s election is to take place on the 24 May 1650. The following citizens have been nominated to date: The competent Lord Mayor Martin Folkes. The competent Councillor Erich Kinski. The competent Patrician Eduard Johannsen. The experience Patrician Eberhardt Hornung”

At the very bottom of these notices is a small wooden carved sign which reads, “Especially recommended today in the guild hall, Chicken pate with a good plum puree.”

Tiberius: I try to walk nonchalantly past the guards and up the stairs.

DM: The one standing guard nods pleasantly at you as you pass.

Josef: I’ll hang back and try to engage the guards in conversation … assuming they’re amiable.

As the two separate, we will remain with Josef as Tiberius he climbs the stairs, leaving what happens to Tiberius for afterward.

Josef (to the guard): “I hope to ask a question. My patron is seeking to hire guards for a journey he and I must make to Ingolstadt. Would you know of any armsmen, such as yourselves, that might be available?”

1st Guard (npc): “Not us, sir.”

2nd Guard (npc) (bitterly): “Ingolstadt! That whore’s town? I wouldn’t go there if –”

3rd Guard (npc) (growling): “I’m from Ingolstadt.”

2nd Guard: “Ah, from! And why is that?”

3rd Guard: “You know why.”

2nd Guard: “I just want to hear you say it.”

Josef: “Sirs, I’ve not meant to sow discord among you. I know nothing of Ingolstadt - What business my patron has in that town is no business of mine. I’ve only been sent to hire guardsmen for the way. Surely the long war has left the countryside a dangerous place ... do you know if any of the merchants here today are from that town? Perhaps they would know also a good guardsman that would accept more than adequate commensuration?”

4th Guard (npc) (to Josef): “Ignore them, they’ll prattle on like that all day. I don’t doubt there’s one of the high gentlemen from Ingolstadt, but that’s none of my affair.”

DM: The 4th guard looks sideways at Josef’s thin cotton shirt and wool breeches, noticing that the cleric is wearing no proper jacket.

4th Guard: “You don’t look like anyone able to hire people that I’ve ever known.”

Josef: “Indeed. No you’re a perceptive guard. I am of an order that undertakes a vow of poverty, and attend to the spiritual betterment of my patron.” I lean I from the waist. “This is why he trusts me with a large potion of his resources.” I say to the 3rd Guard, “Do you have family there, or letters you would send back? I would be happy to help you, as I will be going there already ...”

DM: The 3rd Guard reacts as though you’ve just stabbed him through the heart. His face stiffens; his eyes gather a far away look as he stifles tears. Clearly he has been deeply wounded. The 2nd Guard turns on Josef.

2nd Guard: “Now you’ve done it! You had to mention his family, didn’t you?”

1st Guard (to Josef): “Perhaps you should just move along.”

Josef: I bob my head in mute apology and shuffle out of the hall. I will get some bread from the gasthaus and wander aimlessly in the streets, hands tucked behind my back for an hour. Two rings of church bells? A little over an hour? Anyway ... I’ve got my eye out for nothing in particular and would rather be preoccupied and alone for a while.

DM: A copper for the bread, please.

We now address ourselves to what happens once Tiberius has climbed the stairs of the Market Hall, bringing him to the second floor.

Tiberius: What does the second floor look like?

DM: The second floor has been prepared for a banquet. There are six tables, each with fourteen settings, tablecloths, pewter candlesticks, porcelain plates, copper cutlery and ceramic cups. Dinner has not yet been served, but about a dozen gentlemen and an equal number ladies are standing in the open area between the table and the left wall, gossiping. Before you can move any further forward, a shorter, well-fed man standing next to a tall, small-topped table holding only a book places a gentle hand on your shoulder. He has been looking at your fairly acceptable but road-dusted attire. Now he addresses you.

Concierge (npc and a stranger as far as the player knows): “Kind sir, you come from which city?”

Tiberius: Looking the shorter man in the eye, I answer with a smile and a friendly tone. “I’ve recently travelled through from Munich, though I have stayed in this fair town for several weeks. My name is Tiberius. What is your name?”

Concierge: “This is the Guild’s Hall Dinner. I am the concierge of the dinner.”

Tiberius: “What is this banquet for?”

Concierge: “It is restricted to members of the Dachau merchant’s guild and to visiting guild members who visit here from other towns. Are you a merchant, sir?”

Tiberius: I give a furtive glance around the room to see if anyone is watching. Then, I move my hands in marked, fixed patterns, saying arcane words, aimed at the concierge. I cast Charm Person, targeting the concierge.

DM: The rules say that your spell will take one round to throw. A round lasts 12 seconds. You are standing face to face with the concierge. You manage to get about five words out of your mouth when the concierge will simply reach out, give you a hard push, and destroy your concentration. When your concentration is broken while casting a spell, the spell is lost.

Tiberius, you are in deep trouble. Please roll a 6-sided die.

Tiberius: I rolled a 5.

DM: You have the initiative. The concierge seems only interested in falling back, which he’ll be able to do unless you desire to attack or do something else. Your action?

Tiberius: I raise my hands, showing that they are empty. “Please, forgive my rudeness. If you will calm down, I will show you my papers.”

DM: It may be too late to talk your way out. It’s very likely the concierge has no idea what spell you were going to cast. His heart is undoubtedly pounding in his chest as he imagines your intent was to destroy everyone in the building.

Concierge: “GUARDS!”

DM: You now instantly have the attention of every person in the room. Will you go gently?”

Tiberius: Remembering the guards at at the foot of the stairs, I fear that I am trapped and imagine that running at this moment would present an even blacker picture. I stay where I am, keeping my hands visible and away from my weapons, hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.

DM: Assuming you don’t resist, they will fit you with manacles, putting your hands behind your back, then lead you to the town’s courthouse.

So ends the events surrounding the Market Hall. We turn now to Delfig and Anshelm as they venture to the North Gate of Dachau.

Upon stepping from the town gates, Anshelm and Delfig see a quite beautiful vista, that of the countryside north of Dachau. The road winds upwards, into a low string of hills before disappearing, just beyond, into the valley of the Danube. To your right, you can see the narrow valley of the Amper, the small stream that flows through Dachau, which flows down to the valley of the Isar River. Not far away, to the left, you see a grove of apple trees, interplanted with hawthorn and cranberry bushes. Upon the nearby pastureland that follows the road, a small herd of cattle, perhaps seventy, are tended by townsfolk. These bring their animals out of the town in the morning and let them feed, before returning them at dusk.

Some hundred yards away you see a stone blockhouse, twenty feet high and much larger than an ordinary house. There appear to be no windows, nor shutters, only empty cavities where both ought to be. As you approach, you can see a scaffold that has been attached to the front of the structure, from which hangs a man and a woman. You would guess that both have been hanging there for two, perhaps three days. You can see now that the building has been burned out, for charcoal scars, nearly the same color as the stone, score the hard granite above the windows and the entranceway.

There is naught upon the road but a farmer and his wagon. The wagon is but a quarter full of hay. This steadily approaches you and the town, from a hundreds of yards distant. A single stile fence runs along the right side of the road for a hundred feet past the town’s gate, and on it you see three young boys, not yet ten, sitting. For a moment, you remember what it was like to be a boy.

Anshelm: “Hey, kiddies, are there no good works you could be performing on the Lord’s Day?” I call to them with a smirk and a friendly wave.

DM: One kid thumbs his nose at you and another shouts.

Kid (npc): “Nyah, you!”

DM: They jump off the stile and go off across the field.

Anshelm: Reaching for my snuff box, I point out the blockhouse and its former occupants to Delfig. “Is that what they call an omen?”

Were the people that lived in the blockhouse victims of plague or some such? Would we know about this?

DM: You know nothing about the blockhouse. You’ll have to ask somebody. As you see the farmer coming along, he pauses in front of the blockhouse. He stares up forlornly before continuing towards the North Gate.

Delfig: I sigh and put away the copper coin I had been about to toss to the kids in exchange for information. I’ll go up to the farmer and inquire about his travels, and what he knows of the figures and the blockhouse.

DM: He replies that he’s come from his farm at the foot of the hill below the far hill. At your question about the blockhouse, he looks back, scowls, and spits. He points at the inn.

Farmer (npc): “Ya. Those town father swine. You see that? That Inn’s been there since the year 1112. Those hanging there are the innkeeper and his wife. His father and his father’s father for twenty-four generations have tended that, and the town’s murdered them. They say the Inn’s a danger to the town. They say that marauders might use the Inn to attack the town. They say that, ya. It’s not that that threatens them. No, they want that we should pass through the town gates and pay our silver to drink there. They warned Jan, and Jan warned them. And now Jan’s hanging there. It’s not right. Come on, mule.”

DM: He snaps the lead on his mule and continues on.

Delfig: [OOC: Jaw hangs open. Cool]

I raise an eyebrow and motion to Anshelm. “I wonder what ‘Jan’ warned them out. I’m going to have a peek around. Keep an eye out.” I will wait for awhile until the coast is clear, then take a look over the blockhouse to see if it was thoroughly looted, or if anything looks interesting. I’ll go as far as to look for basements or such, if it appears safe. If it’s not possible, then I’ll look about the grounds for anything left or other possible entrances that would lead to root cellars or such.

Anshelm: “Welcoming lot they are here. Not so sure we’d want to get into a fight with the town fathers on their behalf, but what do you think, Delfig? Maybe they had other secrets...?” I take up a place on the fence where the boys were to keep an eye out for anyone approaching. “I’ll whistle if I see anyone, Delfig.”

Have we heard any murmurs of discontent in our months patronizing the Pig?

DM: It occurs to Anshelm that some people had been saying something about putting the country people in their place, but that seemed like nothing more than the usual sort of talk.

Looking around, the coast is quite clear. The building is burned out. Clearly, no attempts were made to put out the fire. The floor has vanished, though the stone piles which once supported the floor supports in the basement are still there. The burnt odor is strong, and there is a considerable pile of ashes. You can see from the doorway that the ceiling has also disappeared, and the building is open to the sky. Taking a quick hop down to the floor of the cellar, you find amid the ashes naught but twisted nails, broken glass, a few large charcoaled pieces that might have been rafters. You may look about further, but I’ll assume that at some point you climb out and wipe yourself clean with a handful of grass.

Delfig: If it needs to be clearly stated, I’ll look for secret doors or hidden areas, if I can find such things in the debris. Assuming that’s for naught, then yes, I’ll jump out and clean myself off.

Anshelm: “No valuables among the rubble down there, eh? Not even a nice plate? I wonder if Jan has family in the area?” I spit, then jumps down from my perch on the fence. Approaching the ruin and taking care to stay as far away from the corpses as possible, I call to Delfig. “I’m not sure how fruitful this exercise will be, friend bard. P’raps our friends are having more luck at the Market Hall?”

DM: [OOC: Players may safely assume that anything such as secret doors, valuable items, oddly concealed objects, including the future rifling of bodies, is assumed to be your first interest. In cases where such things may not be easy to find, a roll will be made...but none was made here, as clearly everything has been destroyed]

Delfig: I crawl from the wreckage, covered in soot and dirt. I wipe myself off as best I can, noting that I’ll have to do a quick run to the bucket to wash my clothes. I looks at Anshelm and shake my head. “Not a single thing left. Either this was a very bad fire or this place was long looted. Strange we didn’t hear about it, considering it was only 3 days ago. Perhaps we might keep our wits about us. If the lords and fathers need to point to someone about this, strangers might be the first ones looked at.”

I take a quick walk around the boundary of the area with the woods, to see if anything was thrown into the trees or if anyone is watching us from the trees. Assuming nothing happens, I’ll agree with Anshelm to go back to town. If I see something, such as a person or item, I’ll investigate it.

Anshelm: I accompany Delfig in his investigation.

DM: You see no one watching or showing any interest, except perhaps a few of the cattle-herders, who might wonder what you’re looking for. The apple orchard is well-tended, even the bushes being clipped to make wide open pathways. In this season the branches are full of white flowers. You see nothing that you describe, but then you realize that this would never be used as a dumping site. You would need to push into the trees to investigate further.

Delfig: I will indeed push into the trees to investigate further.

[OOC: Famous last words from the two gents who are out and about in their normal clothes, with a lyre as a club…]

Anshelm: I join in the search, keeping Delfig in sight.

[OOC: who knew I was such a follower]

DM: As the pair of you wander between the trees, the sweet odor of the flowers becomes intoxicating. Nothing to worry about, however. The ground begins to rise as you wander, as the orchard clothes the lower slopes of the nearest hill. A further twenty yards and you sense the far edge of the trees, with a grouping of buildings just beyond.

Anshelm: I make my way to the edge of the treeline, doing my best to stay concealed from anyone watching from the buildings. I’m looking for any movement or sign of people.

Delfig: I shrug my shoulders. “It’s probably just the farmer’s house and storage for this orchard, I’d wager.” But I’ll look all the same, carefully, not wanting to get surprised from behind.

DM: You find a small collection of eight cotter’s shacks, cotters being landless people’s allowed to occupy the lord’s land in exchange for their perpetual labor. This being Sunday, none are at work in the fields, but are instead commanded to not work at any activity.

Despite your efforts to remain hidden, your darker appearance against the white boughs is noticed rather quickly. Several men, who had been lounging and waiting for the sun to fall, rise now, grasping the nearest club like object to hand and stand staring at you distrustfully.

Anshelm: “Ah, friend Delfig, perhaps we should join our compatriots back at The Pig? I suddenly have a thirst.” I begin backing out the way he came.

Delfig: I sigh and hold up both hands to show peaceful intent, while smiling. I stage whisper to Anshelm, “If you run, you’re liable to bring them down upon you. Perhaps they can shed light on the burnt Inn.” I take a slow step forward and continue to show non-aggression.

[OOC: If they come at me like an ugly riot, I’m hightailing it outta there. Otherwise, I’d like to chat with them]

Anshelm: I chuckle. “I trust you’re good with a rowdy crowd, or at least handy with your instrument,” I whisper back. I fall in behind Delfig.

Delfig: [OOC: *chuckles* Sotto voice: “I hope I don’t die finding out...”]

DM: They seem to have no inclination to riot. All told, there are five men, and behind them two women. One of the women is holding a rusty knife about ten inches long (she’s not bad looking, by the way), the other some kind of hoe. The men are holding, from left to right, a cherry tree branch, a grain flail, a hand scythe, a wooden stool and an eighteen-inch piece of stone that might have been used for sharpening. The runt of the group, being five-foot-three, the one with the scythe, steps forward.

Cotter (npc): “What do you want, stranger?”

Anshelm: “This is your chance to shine, Delfig.”

Delfig: I smile as broadly and winningly as I can. “Good friends, we are just out for a Sunday stroll to take in the lovely country. We mean you no harm and in fact, as I am a musician, I would be happy to play for you, should you be so kind.” I keep my hands outstretched. I’ll get my lyre out and settle down for a bit of music and dance.

[OOC: I’m also waiting to see if they’re going to remove my head from my neck]

DM: They seem to relax. The runt speaks again.

Cotter: “Well, let’s see you play.”

Delfig: Smiling at the women equally, I settle back and begin to play a popular dancing tune that I’m comfortable with. I’ll do so for awhile, to calm them down and see them entertained. Assuming that goes well, I’ll chat with them about the goings on in the town. I don’t ask what they’re doing here and I don’t ask about the blockhouse ... yet.

Anshelm: Visibly relieved, I lean against a tree, clapping along with the tune.

DM: The moment is suitably pacified. Listening to music and playing music is one of the permitted activities on the Sabbath, and you are gratefully appreciated, once they understand you have no malicious intentions. They will become increasingly agreeable as you play, and will invite you to share in their afternoon meal.

Delfig: [OOC: Oh man, never thought about what is legal on Sabbath. *gulp*]

I’ll continue to play and graciously accept their offer to share a meal.

Anshelm: Anshelm, for once, holds his tongue.

And so we leave Anshelm and Delfig for awhile, as they ready themselves for their evening’s meal. Let us return to Tiberius, who has been waiting for the consequences of his actions at The Dachau Courthouse. Josef has returned to The Pig gasthaus by this time, where he meets his friend Kazimir, a Player who has come a little late to the campaign.

There is very little going on in the market square as the afternoon progresses into the evening. Many of the produce stalls are closed, while goods are loaded up in wagons in front of the market hall. The sun will set at a quarter of eight, so not so many hours from now.

Josef and Kazimir have had little luck to discover the whereabouts or situation regarding Tiberius—only to discover, quite suddenly, that someone has aroused the judge into his chambers so that the prisoner can be presented at court at five bells. They have time to arrive and gather in the events.

Tiberius, as it happens, is only an alias. Tiberius’s true name is Adalbert Volkmann, a name that is known to many citizens in Dachau. Tiberius, or Adalbert, has had a fairly comfortable stay in one of the jail cells; as a mage, his hands have remained cuffed, but he has been fed, given water, a stuffed straw mattress to lie on. Upon being put into his cell, Tiberius hears the jailer make a remark.

Jailer (npc): “Get comfortable. They’ll likely forget about you.”

DM: A cleric-monk appears about an hour later, speaks very little to Tiberius. He takes the time to cast a few spells, none of which Tiberius could be familiar with, before taking his leave.

At the quarter chime before the fifth hour, the jailer reappears with two guards.

Jailer: “You must be one of the lucky ones. Got some friends in court, have you?”

DM: Tiberius is taken into the court room, a small affair barely twenty feet by fifteen, with an imposing, raised desk and a wrought iron pillar affixed to the stone floor, to which Tiberius’s manacles are attached. There are four guards, the judge, a well-attired gentleman and both Josef and Kazimir in the room. The latter two were admitted only a few minutes before Tiberius was brought in. The gentleman stranger, Josef and Kazimir sit on a narrow, rude bench along one wall. Tiberius can’t help feeling the gentleman beside his friends is oddly familiar.

The room becomes silent.

Judge (npc): “This is the prisoner from the Merchant Guild Hall?”

DM: Any attempt by Tiberius to speak will be quickly dealt with—Tiberius, being a bright fellow and having watched prisoners in the dock, wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Court Officer (npc): “Yes, your Honor.”

Judge: “And who speaks for this man?”

DM: The gentleman stranger beside rises, somewhat confidently.

Gentleman (npc): “I do.”

Judge: “You may proceed.”

Gentleman: “Your honor. I was present at the dinner in the Merchant’s Hall when this man’s honor was astoundingly and insultingly impugned by the action of the Hall’s concierge. The very idea that this man could stand in a public place and prepare to throw a spell in such a manner is utterly ridiculous and fully fantastical. This man is a well-known figure in the business world in Graz, in Syria, and is in the employ of the Baron von Furstenfeld, an upstanding gentleman and one of the Electoral College of the Empire, your honor. His faithfulness to the crown, to the well-being of his fellow man and to God is indisputable. I demand that compensation be made for this unforgivable attack!”

DM: Tiberius is staring closely at the man - and then realizes from where he knows him. Some five years ago, when Tiberius was a stable boy, actually in the employ of the aforementioned Furstenfeld, he met this stranger, named Johann Mizer. Mizer bought seven horses from the Baron. Tiberius remembers himself taking part in delivering the horses. He remembers, too, that one of the horses was half-blind, something the Baron chose not to mention.

Judge (clearing his throat): “I have spoken to the concierge. He feels he cannot be mistaken.”

Johann Mizer (the gentleman): “He must be. Can we be sure the concierge has a perfect knowledge of magic?”

Judge (apparently convinced): “Adelbert Volkmann. You have been examined by Father Durer, and have been found not to be a serious threat to the town of Dachau, or any of the citizens therein. A writ has been found on your person, also, providing you with free passage through the Duchy of Bavaria. For these reasons it is decided that you shall not be given over to the Inquisition for further examination. This court believes that you could not have intended to throw a spell. Normally, you would be fined ten gold pieces and expelled from the town gates, but I will take under advisement the word of a celebrated and respected member of our community and suspend this sentence. You are free to go.”

DM: [OOC: Tiberius received the writ as part of the background of his character]

Josef (to Kazimir): “A strange meeting, no doubt. Let’s see that it is not portentous. I’ll never see the inside of such a place as this again.” I will otherwise stand by quietly.

Tiberius: I walk over to Johann Mizer with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Though, feeling relief upon the judge’s verdict, I begin to feel that old fear from meeting anyone even remotely connected to my old life in Austria. “It seems I am indebted to you, sir, for your help. If I may be frank, to what do I owe this honor?”

Johann (laughing): “You sold me a blind horse! Well, the Baron did. I think that’s the last time I did anything very foolish. Have you had a decent meal? Do you have somewhere to stay?”

Tiberius: I laugh uneasily at Johann’s small joke. “My jailors treated me remarkably well. Food, water, a place to think. All well and good, considering.” Tiberius informs Johann of his accommodations at The Pig. “If I might ask, what brings you to Dachau? Besides helping an old acquaintance out of an unfortunate scrape?”

DM: Tiberius’s lodging at The Pig is in a common room on the second floor, that serves the five members of the party.

Johann: “I live here, my friend! I am a member of the very guild that has so wronged you.”

Tiberius: “How fortuitous! I had been hoping to speak with a member at the Guild Hall, before, well, the incident.”

Josef (presumably after introducing himself): “Tiberius, Herr Mizer … let’s go back to The Pig’s porch and sit. Our companions may have already returned, and might be seeking us.”

Johann: “About what, friend?”

Tiberius: I glance at my friends, Josef and Kazamir, and say to Johann, “Perhaps, we could speak elsewhere, at a more convenient time and location?”

Josef (to Kazimir): “We can retire to The Pig. Let’s leave these gentlemen to their conversation.

Kazimir Kropt, the Assassin: I grunt and say, “Let’s take our leave of this place.”

DM: Johann suggests he should be the one to take his leave. He leaves by giving Tiberius instructions that he, Johann, can be found at the Guild, which is a separate place from the Market Hall where Tiberius was arrested. Johann adds that Tiberius should not hesitate to show the writ in his possession when appearing there, so that his purpose will not be misunderstood. Johann goes.

Tiberius: I turn to Kazamir and Josef. “Well, that was exciting. Let’s go find our comrades.”

Josef: We are walking back to The Pig. While I think of it, am I aware of any members of my church in the town of Dachau?

DM: (OOC: Josef is a cleric of ancient pagan Slavic mythology, a religion which is banned throughout Germany and most of Europe. He has reason to fear the Inquisition)

It is true that there are no worshippers of your religion around you, but you must also remember that the path you’ve chosen is a religion much less organized and exacting than the Catholic church.

You are of too low a level to begin a church; but if you were to sincerely seek into the hinterland beyond the immediate town, you would quickly find shrines and small holy places which are more ancient than these cross-worshippers.

Even in the town there is evidence everywhere of your religion: the dragons carved into the church door; the tree depicted in a carving on the Pig’s door; the words in songs which your friend Delfig sings. Your religion breathes and throbs in every rock and stone, in the growing of the crops and the foods the populace eats. It is only that it has been concealed and the true meanings lost.

As a cleric of your religion, you are given more than the privilege of representing your pantheon, you are asked to further their power upon the earth in the manner which seems best to you, their ordained policy maker.

With Josef’s last question answered, and the party in town returning to their rooms at the gasthaus before the sun goes down, we may find Anshelm and Delfig again, settling down to dinner with the cotters.

Anshelm and Delfig find the food simple, but abundant, with an excellent flavor, consisting predominantly of old potatoes, turnip greens, young birds eggs, dove, roasted dormice and fresh milk. This being the spring season, and the store of food from the previous autumn having been spent, there are no grains, nor the bread made of it, nor vegetables, nor fruits.

The smallish man, the head of the community, is named Emmanuel; he introduces you to the other men, whose names you’ve forgotten, and to the two women who were present earlier, Frieda and the pretty one, Suzanne. Suzanne is married to Emmanuel, and Frieda to one of the other men. These are the only members of the small hamlet, and you learn that four of the houses seen earlier are unoccupied.

Delfig: I gladly and thankfully accept the fare that we’re given, and eat it with obvious gusto and relish. I will introduce myself by first name as well.

Anshelm: I eat what is given.

Delfig: During the meal, I’ll mention the town and I’ll refer to the blockhouse as “the obvious statement the town fathers have made on the road outside town” and see what they say. I’ll be neutral in the conversation, I’m looking to see if there’s something obvious going on that we’re just extremely unaware about (referring back to the farmer’s comments about the fathers and the commoners).

DM: Emmanuel gets quite angry when you mention the blockhouse.

Emmanuel (bitterly): “Obvious? The town knows nothing about it. They’ve been told Jan and his wife were sympathizers who gave comfort to Protestants during the war. They were innkeepers! They gave comfort to whomever knocked on the door!”

DM: Suzanne tries to soothe Emmanuel but he won’t have it.

Emmanuel: “It’s the war that’s done this. I’m naught but a cotter, and I’ve naught to do but tend the Lord’s sheep and find what food I can, but I can say there’s an evil loose on the land. It’s these men taking pay for doing nothing. My father could remember when the men who owned and worked the land would rise in war to defend it—but those days are gone, and but in one generation. Now it’s the soldier, always the soldier, fighters with no master but the paymaster, who defend not the town but the purse of the town. Hired to fight the Protestants and now kept in hire to fight innocent innkeepers and their wives!”

Delfig: I listen quietly to Emmanuel’s speech.

DM: The cotter stands up, needing more room to continue to rant.

Emmanuel: “And who holds the purse? The merchants, that’s who! None of them landowners, none of them with a stake in this town nor any town, who gather their things with them whenever they wish to steal from us before moving on to steal from someone else. It’s they who dictate to the army, its they who pay the soldiers and feed the soldiers. If you go into the town, and you look in the town hall, do you know what you’ll find? There’s a notice there asking for more soldiers! For what I ask you? For the good of the peace? Not at all! For the good of destroying the peace, that’s what, to make more monsters to hulk out from the town and pillage the gentle folk here! God, I beg you, put an end to it! Deliver us from these money-loving sinners!”

DM: Emmanuel sits again, quite worn out, while Suzanne wets a cloth in the corner water barrel and wipes his forehead with it.

Anshelm: “You speak boldly, friend Emmanuel. I’m not so sure we can put an end to what you describe on our own. We might at best cause them annoyance, like flies on horses’ hides. But even a small service might give you some satisfaction ...what other depredations are the soldiery responsible for?”

Are there legal penalties if one is caught speaking in the manner Emmanuel has?

DM: If someone with power heard him, he might disappear. But who is going to hear him here?

Delfig: I’ll strum up a quick note on my lyre and nod. “Indeed, it is often the common folk who are left to bear the burdens and depredations of those who hold the purse. Certainly the wars of late have left most of the common man grasping for what little was left by the mercenaries. Tell me, were all the town leaders of Dachau united in this, or is there unrest between the landowners and the merchants? And may I ask, whose lands we are currently sitting on?”

DM: You receive the answer that certainly the town fathers were unanimously united in this, as they all expected to increase their wealth. Those who were first opposed were won over with benefices and grants of land, and have become the loudest proponents. You are on the land of the Baron Egbert Wittelsbach von Asper, a name you recognize as part of the Royal Family controlling much of the territory around Dachau.

Anshelm: Do we know much about the Baron von Asper beyond his name?

DM: You know virtually nothing about the Baron, as you are not from this town. Delfig will know from being from Munich that the Wittelsbach family have long been a powerful royal dynasty ruling multiple territories and lands throughout the Holy Roman Empire ... including a former member, Louis IV, being himself an emperor. You cannot know how the Baron von Asper is related to the greater family, or if he is in the line descended from Louis the Emperor. I could tell you more, but you would need to speak to a sage or one of your more educated companions (mage, cleric) might have read something about it during their educations.

The present Duke and Elector of Bavaria would be Maximilian I, the Great ...who is a Wittelsbach. He is 77 years old.

Anshelm: I ask if any others have expressed discontent. If so, who and how many? And is any one of the town fathers particularly notorious for committing these injustices?

Delfig: I nod at Anshelm’s question and wait for an answer, strumming idly on my lyre.

DM: Several of the men express their particular dislike for both Martin Folkes, the Lord Mayor, and Erich Kinski. “Two sides of the same coin,” goes the sentiment.

Anshelm: “I assume our friend Jan was a victim of the Lord Mayor’s marauding mercenaries. What else is he responsible for? This Erich Kinski: who is he?”

DM: Emmanuel will tell Anshelm that Kinski owns the taxation privileges on boats descending the Isar River from Munich to Passau, at Friesing, Landshut and Landau ...where all the fees are exorbitant except to his associates in Munich and Dachau.

Emmanuel: “He’s turned the river into a private waterway.”

DM: The Lord Mayor’s interests run along a similar angle. Martin Folkes owns the town brewery.

Anshelm: “They seem to be scoundrels, the lot of them, though with friends in high places. Privilege rarely goes to those who are truly deserving, I always say,” I say, picking at my nose. “Tell me, where do the Lord Mayor and this Kinski live?”

DM: Emmanuel and the others have no certain idea. Only one of them, Suzanne, have ever been in the town. Suzanne was once there as a little girl. They haven’t the money, you understand, to pay the silver piece needed to enter the town gate, and all of them are bound by debt to their Manor Lord.

Delfig: “You mentioned that the loudest landowners seem to have been bought out in a generation. Do the soldiers still respect the landowners, or have the merchants started becoming more bold in their depredations, even at the expense of your Lord?”

DM: Both the nobles and the merchants have become the same people, or so close in each other’s pockets as to make no difference; this you would glean from Emmanuel’s words, though it may be somewhat unclear to Emmanuel and his peers.

Delfig: After hearing these answers, I note the time. If it is getting late, I want to return to the town to meet up with our friends and see if our companion Kazimir has arrived.

DM: The sun will set in an hour.

Delfig: If it is late enough, I’ll stand and bow. “You’ve been most kind in your hospitality and your words.” I’ll take a few coppers, seven I think, from my pouch and say “I too have very little, as my travels have left me hungry, but as you have shared with me, allow me to express my gratitude - and perhaps your assistance, should our paths ever cross again.”

DM: They will refuse your coins, since to be in possession of them might mean a week in the stocks.

Suzanne (npc): “But if you would be kind enough, master Bard, to come and play another Sunday, we would be most grateful.”

And so Anshelm and Delfig take their leave. The evening sees our five companions make their way back, to join that Sunday Night at The Pig gasthaus. First, Josef, Kazimir and Tiberius; then not long after, Anshelm and Delfig. They find that the tavern is full of guests … as it is nearly every Sunday night. As always, their beds have been faithfully kept by Helmunt. By the time the party grows comfortable on their first ale at their usual table, the market stalls and goods are completely gone from the square; all that was being sold in the Merchant’s Hall is packed up and carried away until the following Sunday.

But the town is not quiet. A scaffold and stage have been set upon on the front steps of the cathedral, facing the square. A small crowd has gathered to watch some of the preparations - a crowd that grows steadily larger, and includes both the poor and wealthy citizenry. While the party discusses the matters of the day (and they shall find the time to do that for themselves, while all that is described below will occur after, during or before their tale telling), a performance is staged.

It is a ‘mystery play.’ Promoted, in this particular case, by the brewer’s guild of Dachau. The thrust of the drama is quite simple, and follows the tale of the good Samaritan. Only in this tale, a man is beaten for his goods by Turkish bandits on the road leading from Dachau to Augsburg. He begs for help from a Frenchman, who ignores him. Then he begs for the aid of an Italian, who likewise ignores him.

Finally, the man is found by a German, who immediately puts the poor fellow on his horse and takes him to his house, where he cares for him. And the robbed victim is discovered to be tremendously wealthy. He gives everything he owns to the German before parting from this world and finding salvation.

When the play ends, it is quite dark and the square is lit by torches alone. These are extinguished as the audience departs, until the only active place at all near the square is Helmunt’s humble abode. Soon, within an hour or so, Helmunt will close the tavern in accordance with the law, and all its residents will find their way to their beds in the common room upstairs.

Anshelm: Re-filling from my ever-present snuffbox, I say, “Well, it appears that our friend Tiberius has had the best and the worst fortune of the day. He does seem to have found the most promising avenue leading from this place. What do we all think?”

I keep an ear out for any murmurs of discontent among Helmunt’s patrons, or if anyone mentions the Jan the inn keep. 

Josef: “An interesting day, gentlemen. Delfig and Anshelm … what did you find out on the north side?

Delfig: I will sketch a rough outline of what happened to us at the North Gate. We found a burnt-out Inn that had formerly belonged to several generations of the same family. Apparently the innkeeper fell afoul of the town’s leaders (who seem to be merchants or well connected to merchants) who had the family hung and the inn burned. It is empty of anything of value.

The commoners of this area are extremely unhappy with the events of this murder, as well as the general greed of the merchants of the area. They are squeezing the commoners for every pfennig they can get. The landowners are either being bribed or are involved in greater politics.

Tiberius: Regarding the plight of the common folk, I shrug my shoulders. “It’s a sad story, but there’s not anything we can do, is there?”

Delfig: I look at Tiberius carefully. “And one should not discount commoners as the herd can trample someone quite dead in the stampede.”

Anshelm: I nod in agreement with Tiberius. “Much as the cotters’ plight tugs at the heart, I’m not sure it’s wise to raise the ire of one related to the Duke of Bavaria.

Tiberius: I go on to tell a relatively unembellished account of what happened that day, including his arrest, subsequent acquittal, and his meeting of an old acquaintance, Johann Mizer, a prominent merchant in Dachau.

Josef: “I believe it would be good for us to discuss some goals, for the short term - to figure out what we are interested in doing. I also think that some discretion is necessary to maintain until we’ve some privacy ... the powers of this town seem wary and watchful. I would like to know what you like to do, and will tell you the same about myself, though my goal is perhaps too long-term to be implemented immediately. Anyone else have any particular goals, ideas or interests?”

Delfig: I’ll listen to any ideas that the others might have before speaking.

Kazimir: “All I know is that I’m for getting some coin in our pockets, lads.”

Tiberius: “I think our best bet is to hire ourselves out Mizer and try to make some gold in the process. How exactly this will be accomplished will become more clear once I speak to Mizer and discovers any employment opportunities the merchant might have.”

Anshelm: “Your option also seems most likely to put a bit of jingle in our pockets.”

Josef: “I’m not disinclined to such service for the nonce, Tiberius - and would be grateful to keep occupied, provided that his requirements do not demand that I act against my faith. Is this Mizer a religious man?”

[OOC: For that matter, is anyone in the party?]

Kazimir: [OOC: I am cheerfully non-religious]

Tiberius: [OOC: Regarding faith, I wear a silver cross on a chain]

Delfig: [OOC: I am decidedly quiet about my religious beliefs, although the group has seen me ‘go along’ with anything that would be considered good manners or prudent practice to not stand out]

Anshelm: [OOC: I am fairly sincere in his belief, though I’m not one to be particularly impressed by the ritual and ceremony of the Church, which I consider a bit ridiculous. I attend services as expected, but only because it’s expected. My faith is more personal in nature, and not something I overtly refer to in the normal course of a day]

Tiberius: “Mizer hasn’t actually offered anything. We have to put our best face forward and hope he has a job for someone with our certain ... skillset.”

Josef: “I think that our skill-set, as you say Tiberius, is an important conversational topic. It seems to me that this group may be well-suited to walk some dark paths … should Herr Mizer’s business include such tangents.”

Delfig: “Our need for income does seem to prevail most on my mind, but I am mindful that if-” And I whisper this next, “… something of a revolt is brewing, it would not hurt us to have friends in many places.” In a normal voice, “It can’t hurt us to listen to this merchant, yet I also find it interesting that this friend of yours just happened to be here.”

Josef: I am thinking about larger plans, and say to the party, “Eventually, I would like to return to my home, where my family is persecuted, where my people are being enslaved by the cross and coin. It would be a long journey to the north-east, through Bohemia. I am not equipped for such travel now, I’m afraid. I’ve been too long in the seminary and among these towns. I’ve gotten soft.”

I’m reckoning that a walk to Glatz [where Josef is from] might take something on the order of a month. Is this assumption wildly inaccurate?

DM: With periods of rest and unexpected delays, and none of you having mounts, yes, I would estimate the journey would take about a month.

Delfig: What are the types of things a bard would do if he’s going to cast a spell? Let’s say for instance I wished to cast perception - would it be more about playing a specific tune and singing in a certain way? I’d like to know just in case I need to use such spells and I don’t want to ... erm... cause any attention to myself.

DM: You may assume that any spell you throw will involve playing your instrument and sing-songing the words to the spell. Just so you know that there can’t be any error in detecting the difference between a spell you might cast and an ordinary song, the instrument will begin to gently glow (it won’t be bright enough to cast light). A surreptious spell-casting might be managed by means of a small instrument, such as a Jew’s Harp or a piccolo. Since perception is good at 140 feet, you could easily cross the street and move a healthy distance away before casting with your back to the target, then turning to discharge the spell.

Delfig: Assuming that the party is done discussing the events, I’ll wander into the common room of the gasthaus and see what discussions I might hear. I’ll listen, but not too obviously close.

Anshelm: I’ll continue to keep an ear out for any mentions of Jan the inn keep or anything that might be interpreted as a murmur of discontent against the town fathers. Much as I’d like to ply his thieving abilities in a scene filled with marks, I have no wish to risk tangling with the guard.

Tiberius: I get up and socialize.

As each of the player characters wanders off to investigate whatever they might find, Josef retires to his bed, while Kazimir sits a moment to observe a group of coachmen he happens to see.

Kazimir: I look sideways at them, trying to see if I recognize them as assassins. I also ponder over any news I’ve heard lately about assassins in the district.

DM: You’ve heard nothing of, or from, the assassin’s guild in Innsbruck since your departure. You feel sure that an accomplished assassin would leave little news for anyone to hear; if there was a tale about a recent murder, you would think it was over an act of jealousy or some other personal vendetta.

And while Kazimir considers this, Delfig finds himself uncovering a snippet of conversation spoken between two wealthy gentlemen, each sitting upon high cushioned stools.

1st Merchant (npc): “Then we should make a move to acquire the building … when?”

2nd Merchant (npc): “In two months. The sotted masses have accepted the tale of smuggling. They will just as soon accept the employment of the building for the defense of the town …”

DM: But Delfig hears nothing more, as a wave of laughter passes through the crowd around him as a juggler performs a difficult feat.

Delfig: I’m going to keep my eye on them, if possible, and move to where I could cast perception without being noticed. I’m waiting for them to engage in what appears to be deep discussion again. If that happens, I’ll cast the spell (assuming I’m not going to be noticed) and attempt to listen in. If not, then I’ll simply keep an eye on them and anyone else that might be interesting.

DM: Not long after you hear their brief conversation, they split up, to speak with other gentlemen and ladies. Their demeanor seems quite pleasant and non-businesslike, so you couldn’t be sure what the spell might reveal.

Delfig: You mentioned a juggler - was he part of the brewer’s guild performance or someone just busking for coins?

DM: He was a part of the performance. As you approach, you recognize a patch on his clothing.

Delfig: Then I’m not going to mess with him. Instead, I’ll strum up a a few tunes that would be pleasing to the crowd, and perhaps earn me some tip money.

DM: I’ll give you 3 coppers and a silver piece for the tune playing.

Delfig: I gratefully pocket the coins and move over to my companions before they need to move to the common area.

Anshelm, meanwhile, will overhear another conversation … between two coachmen, as it happens, who are standing well back from the crowd, tending a carriage waiting nearby.

1st Coachman (npc): “How many?”

2nd Coachman (npc): “Four last month. And one again last night.”

1st Coachman: “And they were found -”

2nd Coachman: “- with their throat’s cut. Yes. Inside the grounds. A stable-boy heard it happening, and although the gates were sealed directly there was no sign, no killer. They say there was blood everywhere, but no one in the house so much as had it on their shoe. Except the boy, I suppose.”

1st Coachman: “That’s awful.”

DM: At that moment, they both become aware of Anshelm’s presence, and stifle their conversation.

Anshelm: I nod politely at the coachmen and move off through the crowd and back inside. Signalling Helmunt, I ask the worthy patron if he has heard anything about sinister goings-on around town (without actually mentioning the murders the coachmen were discussing).

DM: Helmunt knows nothing about it. He turns suddenly to dress down his brother-in-law, Hans Schultz, for failing to order more ale.

Anshelm: Do I get the sense that Helmunt is covering for something with his bluster?

DM: Most likely not.

Anshelm: After considering the matter, I drift back out into the crowd. I attempt to join in on any small talk I hear, trying to introduce the topic of recent unpleasantness in as natural a manner as I can (Jan the inn keep, the murder I overheard the coachmen discussing).

DM: The crowd is remarkably unaware. Those who might know about what interests you would resist giving their opinion, or turn away rudely, because of your being a stranger. The rest simply know nothing. What would uneducated townspeople care what might happen to a few country people? As regards the murder, it was clearly something reserved among a certain, inaccessible class of people.

And so goes the evening. Those still in the gasthaus eventually gather together once more before turning in for the night, to share what they have gleaned from their wanderings. At the end, Anshelm has one final word about their experience.

Anshelm: “I would say the town fathers are no better than the curs that call them master. I agree; we should trust no one, and enter into any agreement with wide-open eyes.”

Continued in Part 2 ...