"Ferry no one." said King Kalen of Portha seated before his Grand Council. "DOM refuses to recognize our independence and therefore will receive none of our aid." Lord Hemmings of Gandus spoke "the King of DOM is a captive of Moritania.  We do not even know if he has heard our declaration."  "My demands were sent to Corvarras", King Kalen snapped back .  "They were placed into the hands of Prince Karsh Petros directly.  He now has the power to make this decision."  A murmur began in the chamber.  King Kalen knew that he was taking advantage of the situation, but a kingdom must be forged and this was the most expedient method.  "My lords" he said, raising his voice to overcome the mounting dissent, "Karsh Petros writes back declaring us traitors and cowards."  "The temperament of youth, my grace" offered Hemmings.  "Then he will learn a valuable lesson, won't he?" fired back the King.  "Lord Hemmings, are you Porthan or Domish?  Do you stand with us or with them?"  Abashed, Lord Hemmings faltered, "with us, of course". "Good.  Does anyone here wish to declare fealty to DOM and foreswear this council and this Kingdom?"  Silence descended.  "Very well.  Neither the crown of Portha nor any of it's citizens shall provide the Domish with passage to DOM."

The great Moritanian General Gunter Neimann  sat at his writing desk in the Orsan Tower.  The sun was streaming in from the high turret above.  Standing conspicuously in the center of the circle of light was the Farer, Master Walthari.  "Matmus has delivered us this day" the cleric intoned with his eyes cast upward, his arms outstretched.  The General looked up and stared at him.  Gunter Neimann hated Farer.  They seemed always to claim the obvious.  But there was no denying that the sun was shining after nearly a year.  The snow had ceased falling and at the moment the sky was cloudless.  "The great darkness of Necmus has been defeated.  We are victorious" shouted the exultant Farer.  "Now the great work can begin.  We must bring missionaries."  Neimann was about to once again explain that no ships would be coming until spring, but was saved by Major Adalgar.  "You sent for me sir?"  "Yes I did." The General turned to Walthari "excuse us Farer."  Walthari remained for a second's disregard of dismissal, and then dramatically made his exit.  "Lt. Gen. Evard tells me that you lost another man last night."  Adalgar stared at the General trying to look calm and in control.  He could feel a bead of sweat beginning it's journey down his nose.  "Yes sir."  "Please explain" said the General with steely coldness.  "Some of the men on shore leave harried the locals."  Adalgar was about to blame morale aboard the Erobern, when the General cut him off.  "Major, these men directly disobeyed orders by taking their binge underground.  Do not dare to seek to justify their actions.  They are confined to ship for a month after a sound lashing.  Do I need to remind you that we are not guests in this city?  That we cannot hope to control every square inch?"  The General was pointing at the man before him as if stabbing him with a sword "the underground is inhabited by rabble and thieves of no consequence.  We do not have the manpower to police it.  Just guard the exits and let them kill themselves.  Cut off the booze.  Threaten the taverns and close down their lower level bars."  This death was not the first one to occur that night.  A guard at the southern bridge had been killed and dropped down a sewer hole.  His frozen body discovered in the canal by the morning watch.  This underground was a black maw that ate unwanted guests.  "Just contain the damn place" he shouted.

Next: A Midnight Cruise

These Morits probably thought that DOM was not going to put up a fight.  Eliason must have read our minds as he shouted out "don't give them a reason to flush us all out.  Let me deal with them."  This seemed to be the approach that all of DOM was taking, I wanted none of it, but I really did not want to step beyond my mission.  But if we just hid in the borders wouldn't be just be cowards?  What is DOM actually waiting for?  All of this went though my mind as the drunken Morit revellers entered the Shade.  OUR Shade.  Singing songs in a language that I did not understand.

"Gif us a trink ol man" one of the Morits said in very bad Domish.  The others echoed the call.  There were seven of them, each as drunk as the other.  "Tey said dis fud be fearful place.  Not look so fearful, yes?"  "We are just a tavern" answered Eliason.  I could see sweat beading up on the old innkeepers brow.  Not from fear, mind you, but from contained rage.  I saw that look before. Dontley the Dirk had tossed a Keldrun onto the floor to pay for his ale once and goaded Eliason into picking it up.  Dontley and Loud Nick Farting were notorious when they got together, the former was always eager for a reason to unsheathe his dirk and Loud Nick was always eager to help him find that reason.  It's too bad Dontley was not here now,

The Morit noticed the sweat on Eliason.  "You not look so fearful too" he said with a drunken grin.  "You look like you vil have vet pants, yes?  Little man vit vet pants?"  The Morits apparently had entered that stage of a drunk when entertainment was essential, and poor Eliason became the supplier.  It was impossible to watch.  This is the part for which I later regretted getting so drunk.  I do not know why I suddenly decided to give them a different diversion.  Actually I do know why.  These bastards had invaded my town, made me trek through snow, killed off people I knew, invaded my bar and now were actually making Eliason into a fool.

"Good EVENING gentlemen" I said and walked out of the darkness.  I did not actually decide to do this, or to speak so loudly, it just happened  Eliason flashed me a look, and I felt regret, but it was too late.  I could just keep walking right out the door, but I had opened a flood gate and suddenly all of the hidden inhabitants of the Shade marched out.  The Morits then went into a drunken panic and began pulling swords.  Fools.  The underground was not a place for longswords.  And if they expected us to make a stand and give them a chivalrous chance they would be mistaken.  We scattered to the usual places.  "No" cried Eliason.  "Put away your weapons."  But at this point one of the Morits cut himself rather badly on a friendly sword as the Morits prepared for an attack from us that never came.  The sad bastard held up his hand and the blood ran down his arm.  This sent them into a blood frenzy.  A big one near the bar took a swipe at Eliason, who ducked at the right moment.  The old innkeeper dropped down behind the bar, that meant he would be coming up with his hand axe.  The big ugly Morit leaned over the bar to take another swing but did so with a dagger planted in his back, a flying gift from Japes who never missed in the dark, let alone in a lit tavern.  As drunk as they were, the Morits had to know that we would take them down from the dark recesses of the Shade if they did not do something.  One of them shouted something in Morit that sounded a lot like "let's get the hell outta here."  They gathered up their fallen; the big guy at the bar, and another with a ripped ear from another one of Jape's flying daggers and backed out.  We let them go.

Next: The Lay of the Land

I could hear a crowd as I slipped into the Black Horde Inn, but I was not expecting to see what I saw.  The Horde is a four-story tavern.  It's the largest and tallest building in Dorgat besides Domcastle.  The top floor contains six rooms for overnight stays, next floor down has a great hall, used for lots of things.  The Hamala Lightner troop entertains there on Moon Days, Hamala herself is a fine singer, and she is accompanied by musicians and acrobats.  They put on a fine show, but I digress. The main floor is the main tavern.  Rich merchants mostly, but not as rich as those that frequent the Bailey.  Nor does the Horde cater to Knights or Lords as the Bailey does - or rather the Knights and Lords do not generally give the Horde the chance.  too working class to their liking,  Well-to-do though it might be.  The Lower Horde was a different story again.  This was the Inn's gift to the underground.  A lower class tavern with good prices.  The Horde is as patriotic a tavern as there is, which is why I was completely surprised upon entering to find the room packed with Morit soldiers.  Luckily I had not made a big entrance, and they were roaring drunk, singing and swaying.  I really wanted to stay.  I consider it an act of patriotism if I was to remove a purse or two.  It would be the one time I would probably be commended by old Mr. Gatts for committing a heinous act in his grand establishment.  Then I thought of Sir Forcellus and my mission.  Then I did it anyway.

The best way to enter the Nightshade Inn is with a purse full of stolen cash.  Even better if was Morit stolen cash.  "Japes my friend" I said as I slid next to him at the long bar, "the next one's on the Morits."  Japes was suitably impressed and surprised to see me.  "I thought you were dead" he said.  He was as thin as a man can be and still live.  Few were as good at fleeing a crime scene, which was good as he was not the best at filching coin.  His long thin nose made him sound a bit as if he always had a cold.  "I was just at the Horde" I said.  "You're a crazy man" he replied, but with obvious respect.  "They'll be passed out soon" I added, "we can make another pass".  I actually had taken the purse from a snoring Morit who had been literally under the table, but he did not need to know that.  I dropped a silver coin with some Morit King on it onto the bar and ordered us a round.

The Shade was fairly humming, but there was still an air of vague uncertainty.  Loud Nick Farting (not his real name) was just not up to his usual sarcastic rant, and Ben the Bowyer was not standing to play five-dice as was his custom.  I got a bit drunk then, which I later did regret, but it did not seem to affect my luck at five-dice.  It was quite a profitable evening all around.  I had just scooped up four silvers in winnings when the door of the shade burst open.  "Morits coming." shouted Baines Cockrel as he ran into the tavern.  A lad of some ten years Baines is the cast away child of some whore who earns his bread sweeping the Shade.  From the size of him his father must have been a big man.  Even at ten could outdrink many.  But he was excitable and a bit slow in the head and was bound to think a roaming band of drunk Morits the same thing as a siege of the tavern.  Still, we all drew our weapons.  "Whoah there" intoned Master Eliason "get to the borders."  Eliason Felemer, the proprietor of the Shade spoke with the authority of a Lord in the underground. As wide as he was tall (some Grimdon in him probably) he is as a father to many of us undergound rats.  As we scattered for the many dark corners of the tavern - the "borders" we could hear the Morits singing and winding their way to our lair.

Next: A Little Mayhem

The sound of rushing water marked the Soubridge.  Foul water collected here from drains above and dropped down to the Lake Efrem canal through a hole in the center of the underground passage beneath the bridge. I once left the Underground in a hurry through that hole.  Not a big drop in the spring when the lake is high.  Sometimes not a drop at all.

As I crossed the under-bridge passage I saw a dim glow up ahead.  Lights from the Bailey.  There were no official torches maintained underground, only the dim light provided by shps and taverns, and like moths we flitted between them.  All underground paths are the old Dorcer City roads that used to be the main roads before they built the ones above.  They go from as wide as thirty feet to down to a sideways shimmy in places.  There are lots of side passages and tunnels and as the place is mostly pitch black you can easily get lost.

There was no one around to see me as I entered the weathered door of the Bailey.  These doors could all be sealed during the spring flood and wash.  It was quiet inside the tavern.  Even quieter after I walked in - as all conversation momentarily stopped.  I was duly examined, and found harmless and the conversations resumed.  I ordered an ale. This was not going to be a dry search, after all!  I ended up playing a little five-dice with a tanner.  "Yeah, I've seen Morits down here" growled the man.  There's Morits up there too" he added, pointing up.  "They like the baths they do.  Old master Dorcer can't chuck 'em out, though I know he'd like to."  Lowering his voice he continued, "down here they don't go much further than that door.  For all their swagger, Morits don't seem to like the dark much."

I was vastly disappointed that the Morits had even set foot into the underground.  I kept hoping they would forget about it.  Pretty silly.  Apparently it was mostly Morit officers that frequented the Bailey, and mostly above.  They left any patrolling of the underground to underlings.  "Regular soldiers come in here?" I asked him, trying not to look too interested.  "Nah, Bailey's an officer playground. Closest Morit regular is guarding Lower Sougat."

I resisted the temptation to tell the tanner that I was working with Sir Forcellus Blaad and Lord Tirian and I instead left the Bailey and headed for the Black Horde.  On the way, I poked into all my little hidey-holes.  These are forgotten spots that I have found over the years that generally lead to either a well-concealed nowhere, or a well-concealed underground exit.  I wanted to know if they had been messed with.  I was happy to discover many of my set-ups still in place.  I'd place things in spots where disturbing them would clue me in.  Often this would be done by someone sleeping off a drunk - which is exactly what I found at the tunnel on Jewel St. below Zane the Herbalist.  He was the perfect tunnel plug.  I hoped that he slept there every night.

I was walking north up Armory when in the sparse light of Brenden's underground store ahead, I unmistakably saw a Morit uniform.  I stopped and slowly backed away, ducking down Center Street.  The Morit had been standing at the entrance to Norgat Lower Bridge at the top of Armory.  This made sense if they were trying to control the bar gates and bridges.  Surely they'd want to block passage below as well, cause you could leave the center city of Dorgat that way.  By why had there been no one at the Sougat.  Maybe he had fallen down the drain hole. 

I would pass the Nightshade by for the moment and hang a left at the Market St. passage.  Best to know as much as I could before broadcasting my ignorance of current events by going to the Shade first.

Next: The Horde

The best Inn in DOM in my opinion, is the Nightshade.  The crossroads of danger and depravity.  To be banished permanently from the Shade you'd have to do something pretty foul.  It's the one place that you are expected to watch your own purse.  If it is stolen there, then you are the fool who allowed it to happen.  You could get barred for outright murder, but a deadly bar fight was always a possibility.  And if Hiram the Innkeeper told you to back down, you did - or suffer the mortal consequences.  Your body would never be found and I don't imagine that your kin would come poking around asking questions.  Ah but to steal a fat purse in the Shade was a right of passage for a clever clip.  I had done it I must admit.  It was during the Midwinter Festival a few years back.  Lots of fat purses down here before the Festival of Lights.  Out of towers mostly, trying to prove themselves brave.  More than a few did not go back home I can tell you that.  But I didn't kill no one, just clipped a fatty.  It was easy really.  They think they're watching out for it - but there's just too much going on.  Mine was the Blaadi Icekregger Captain.  Blaad won the game that year and I know it was due to that kregger's anger after having his purse lifted out from under him.  I was long gone when he discovered it.  Japes later figured out it was me and they were cold to me in the Shade for a week or so on account of Dorcer losing, but we eventually all laughed about it.

My need-to-know status with Forcellus was elevated.  "Vin" he said as we came to a stop before the locked door leading to the underground "we need to know how it is down there.  Go check it out and come back.  We need to know if there are Morits.  Don't get caught if there are."  I was pretty sure that he did not need to give me than advice, but I nodded.  "Come back tonight" he said quickly.  I added "and make sure I'm not followed" trying to hide the hint of sarcasm.  I'm the better soldier here, I thought.  I'm on home turf.  But I did not say so.  Forcellus looked at me for a moment.  I could tell that he was momentarily anxious that I might give away the game so I placated him and said "don't worry, I'm your best man below and I am your man."  My sincerity was as pure as I could manage.  It seemed to work. Just before I went Zef spoke up "No one talks to the Morits about the entrances to the underground, but they probably know there are lots of them".  he said this like an admission of guilt.  I could tell he felt bad about the squealing the Fortan Guild probably did.  He was a member of the Font, you see.  The Black Font is the Fortan clan's strong arm.  Eli separated himself from his father's Corvarran bluster by latching onto a rival clan.  What Eli would not dare tell his dear dad is that the Font would've had his tavern long ago if not for his joining them.  The City Guilds are run by the Fortans and the Font does their rough duty.  They can make a business suffer pretty bad if they want to, and a Corvarran tavern at the end of a Dorgat bridge would make them want to.  I knew this too, but speaking of it can get you barred from the Tooth, and that would never do.

And so the door closed behind me and I was alone.  I stood there letting my eye grow to the darkness, which was more complete than I remember.  In better days there would be the glow of lamps along the way hidden behind thick glass windows no bigger than your fist.  The Tooth had dowsed theirs.  I should be able to see across the street to Boros Saddlery from here, but I could see nothing.  Still, there was only one way to go from here, and that was north to Soubridge and so I began to walk, feeling my way.

Next: The Bailey

My son, I cannot tell you how happy I was when our little boat finally found the correct shore.  As you probably know Lake Efrem Dorcer is vast.  Forcellus, Guwek and I were only traveling across the narrow portion of the lake as it approached the city, but it still took us all night.  We rowed as a blanket of snow descended upon us, traversing the current that would have naturally carried us toward Norgat. Finally spotting land we rowed toward it - only to discover that we were approaching Dorcer Island with the castle wall before us.  At that point we were faced with going back out and rowing directly against current to travel further south.  We had all taken turns with the oars, though but probably none bested Guwek in distance covered.  If Morits had attacked us upon our arrival in Sougat, we could not have lifted a sword much less swung it.  Well, at least I couldn't have.  Luckily for us the snow did not let up, and the shore of Sougat near Guidries Landing was deserted.

The longest night of my life was still not over, but continued into the next day as light started creeping into the clouds revealing a world sheathed in white.  Beautiful, but more beautiful would be my own bed.  We trudged on, bringing our knees up nearly to our chests in many places in order to walk.  When we reached My shack on the land of Heston Coros, we were too tired to skulk.  We simply entered and collapsed.  I graciously offered Forcellus my bed in the loft, he ungraciously accepted.  So much for my dreams. 

We slept until noon.  The view from my cabin door was spectacular, but only if you were not going anywhere.  I somehow doubted that Forcellus would be content to enjoy the comforts of my humble abode for very long.  And in truth, I really had no food to speak of.  I had not been home since the invasion - having spent nights at Janos' farm in Wesgat.  "Let's go to the Tooth" said Forcellus clomping down the stairs from my loft.  Not sure that's such a good move, I thought.  So close to Sou'bridge.  Surely it must be watched.  But then again, there was a good excuse to bundle up.   Who would recognize Forcellus covered head to toe in skins?  Indeed he still had the bear pelt from my bed wrapped around him.

The Broken Tooth Inn is the favorite of Sougat farmers.  Or rather Sougat Corvarran landowners who employ farmers.  Here they get to talk as if they themselves till the fields, which they don't.  The average farmer could not afford the Broken Tooth, and would more likely turn up at the Ox and Mule on Gendry St.  But I digress, the Tooth is a good Inn, and Forcellus was buying the drinks. 

The Inkeeper of the Tooth is Eli Zavras.  He's a Veil, but he's also an arrogant bastard who imagines himself an equal to Heston Coros and the other Corvarran landowners because he has some famous Corvarran in his family tree.  He only owns an Inn and a few stables.  "This legendary Inn has been Corvarran since the Dorcer Kingdom began" he is overly fond of saying in that nasal voice of his.  I guess you can tell that I like the Ox better, but neither is my favorite.  It was not old Eli that Forcellus probably meant to speak to, but his more approachable son Zef.  We did not discuss the matter, but the Tooth does have an entrance to the underground.  I was suddenly on a need-to-know basis with Forcellus.  If he got in with Eli, I would be outranked as far as the Veil goes.  I wouldn't complain.  I already had quite the adventure - and I suppose canoodling with a cutpurse might dent his image.  Besides, I knew that I would find it hard to stomach aristo small talk for very long.

Next: The Nightshade

"There will be no help by sea" said Karsh Petros.  He, Tirian, Veltek and a room full of councilors murmured dissatisfaction.  "Portha has turned traitor to the crown.  We have no more navy." 

Tirian had never felt so tired.  Even the direness of the situation did not stop him from nodding off at one point.  The last four days had been grueling.  They had left the rented hut in Northway and went north as snow began to fall.  They made it to a lonely farmhouse and paid the inhabitants to spend the night.  They had never seen a Raylan before, but somehow never imagined that their visitor was the famous Tirian.  In the morning they paid the farmer handsomely for a mule to carry their packs and they hiked off into the snow.  "We have to get to Corvarras fast - we are nearly out of funds" he had said to Veltek, and worried how they would get there if there were no ship in New Dorcer prepared to take them.  The mule turned out to be more hinderance than help.  They found themselves longing for old Nan "at least she's easier to push" grumbled Veltek who resorted to touching him with Shock to keep him going.

The snow was up to their knees when they reached the villiage of New Dorcer.  They sold the mule at a loss, and headed for the docks.  At first they anonymously attempted to bribe the captain of the only merchant ship docked to take them south, and when the only fortune they could amass proved not enough, they identified themselves and appealed to his patriotism.  The man still refused, "I'll drown the head of the Church of Unity if we go out in this and I'll be hanged" said the man.  Tirian knew that it was merely an excuse to keep from going.  In the end, Veltek had to intimidate the man with a well placed Energy Bolt which had them quickly on their way.

The going had indeed been rough.  The Great Sea was choppy and visibility was non-existent.  They took on water, and had even exposed themselves briefly to a Morit warship, but thanks to the blanketing snow they were able to change course apparently undetected.  They entered the Straits of Isban in the dark.  The snow lessened to a degree as they meandered south and they were occasionally able to follow starlight.  Sailing all through the night and the following day, they arrived in the port city of Corvarras, the capital of the Grand Dukedom of Petros in the evening.  Once there, they went immediately to Castle Corvarras and were ushered in to see Grand Duke Karsh Petros, the young son of King Lythe Methlin Petros II.

In the great hall of Castle Corvarras, Karsh continued his tirade, now standing.  "Moritania controls the sea lanes if Portha is lost to us.  The autumn will insure that we have no overland help until spring, when Moritania will doubtless send more ships and men.  We need to plan ahead.  If they cut off reinforcement by sea, all help of any size will have to march south through Fortan and across the Fortan mountains .  If they reinforce that pass, and the two coastal passages at north and south, they can keep us at bay for quite some time."  Tirian was awake again - long enough to have heard the gist.  "My lord" he said.  "Yes master Tirian?"  Stifling an ill-placed yawn, Tirian went on, "what if we take the city back during the winter?"  Karsh looked at him as if he were mad.  "With what?  You have already told us that the DOM Guard were killed.  Our own stupid laws state that Dorcer cannot have a standing army, so we have no troops!"  "That is true my prince" said Tirian "but Forcellus is there, and the underground is not well patrolled.  We have the Green Veil with us, intact.  There is a limited number of Morit troops, and we have all winter.  Perhaps we can give them a nice midwinter surprise."

Next: Sougat

A mere half hour had passed since Guardsman Guwek Tyno entered our rented hut, yet outside the ground was already sheathed in white.  One look and we knew that our Blaad journey was not to happen.  Guwek called it first by uttering "tank" the Castan word that meant both "it begins" and "it is inevitable."  We had been lucky so far this autumn.  Usually the end of summer is marked by a flurry of snow.  "Tank" meant that no large army would be on the march until spring.  The blasted Morits had timed this perfectly.  Midwinter might see some help perhaps.  Every year a small contingent from the dukedoms and their provinces brave the frozen cold in the dead of winter, when even the snow is too frigid to fall. They come to the capital to convene the Grand Council and for a great festival of tournaments culminating in the grand festival of lights.  It is a massive street party above and below ground.  At least most years it is.  I imagined the Festival to be moot this year.  And yet… the festival is many snowy months away.  Anything could happen between now and then.

Forcellus announced that we would be returning to the capitol.  "We cannot spend the autumn in Northway."  Which is exactly what we would be doing if we stayed even another day.  I did not relish a slog south through the storm, but there was nothing for it.  Wek had said that he had another way into the city besides Norgat.  Ol Nan was in luck, it did not involve a horse, but we were not to be so lucky because it involved a boat.  "We go around to Lake Efrem and take a fishing boat across to Sougat" the young Castan explained.  Forcellus looked interested.  I said "don't we have to pass by guard towers on both sides?  Dorcer castle on one side and the Sougat city wall tower on the other?"  "Yes" he said and pointed out the window of the hovel "in that."  If we managed not to get lost on the lake, we would most certainly be obscured by the sheets of falling white that he pointed at.  "Let's go now." said Forcellus standing.  "We can still reach DOM by nightfall - we'll add darkness to the mix."  Great, I thought.  We're going to end up in Fortan.

And so, out into the near whiteout we marched.  Wind and snow howled around us as we slowly made out way out of town.  We could not be sure that we were not followed, but good luck to them if we were.  I wished that we had someone to follow, as we more than once found ourselves off the road and nearly in a pond or other sign of gross error.  Mercifully the cascading snow let up at one point just long enough for us to catch a glimpse of Mount Fortan, showing us where south by southeast was.  And we had walked this road before, there were a few notable trees and small farms that helped us along. 

Darkness was upon us by the time we approached the city.  We avoided the Circle road surrounding the city wall, and cut across farms using hedgerows as guides and rejoined the circle road east of Norgat crossing.  The silence was profound.  Even our footfalls were muffled by the fresh snow.  Dim firelight emanating from farmhouse windows and reflected by the snow provided us with meager cheer and occasional direction.  We were thoroughly exhausted as we finally spotted the black expanse of great lake Efrem to our right.  The harbor house had a light on inside, but the windows were cloudy and obscured by snow.  We felt our way down to the water looking for boats.  We saw several, overturned and blanketed by snow.  There were no oars.  "I hid some beneath the Harbor House" whispered Wek answering my look of concern.  Within minutes we were on the lake and disappearing into the abyss of snow and darkness.

Next: Tirian and Petros

We parted at dawn.  I could tell that the others had spent many hours together and had many adventures.  Their leave-taking was not without emotion.  They all knew that Karek would not be returning to DOM.  He longed to return to his arid homelands.  Tirian too would probably not return until the city was back in the hands of the Dominion, he was too recognizable and Veltek would undoubtedly accompany him wherever he went.  Forcellus and I did not count on either of them returning to the Gaping Maw.

Our first order of business was to head for the Grand Dukedom of Blaad.  We stabled ol' Nan at the Northway Inn intending to procure real horses.  We would have ended up with a peasants purse if we had had to buy the mounts, we had very little actual money left, but we took Bardol partially into our confidence and he agreed to loan us the horses for nothing if we needed them.  Bardol had convinced Forcellus that he was indeed "a true Dorcer man" and so Forcellus had identified himself as a member of the DOM guard showing the innkeeper his Royal Guard chain.  "I've seen another one of those recently" he had said in a low voice as we stood in the stables.  "When… and where?" replied Sir Forcellus.  Bardol eyed us carefully, looking for signs of trickery, but Forcellus possessed such earnestness that it was hard to believe that he would lie.  In truth, he is as he seems. "In the tavern" the barkeep finally said.

Seated in the back corner of the Northway all by himself was a large but youthful red haired Castan man that Bardol pointed out secretly.  He was nursing a finger of ale and looked a little nervous. Every few seconds he would scan the room for others who might discover him.  He was not exactly finessing this, but then I'm an expert and a harsh critic. I doubt the other patrons would have noticed.  Forcellus bought the man an ale and had the wench delivering it also give him a cryptic message "the cleft oak says hello."  The man carefully looked around after the wench departed and caught Forcellus' eye.  Forcellus then left the inn and we walked slowly back toward the rented hovel.  Snow began to float down as we walked.  This was not a good sign.  As we suspected, the man exited the Northway and followed us.

Once inside I stoked the coals of the fire as our stranger knocked and was let in.  "How is it that you are out of the city?" began Forcellus.  Small talk was not his forte.  The man recognized Forcellus.  "Sir" he began "I was sent out to find you by inkeeper Palen.  I am all that is left of the Guard.  By all rights I should be dead.  My entire unit was either killed or taken prisoner.  I survived by a trip to the privy.  Good timing is all.    Then to answer the alarm on Forcellus' face he added "I promise you that I was not followed.  But they are looking for you sir.  Someone recognized you in Norgat and told the Morits.  They are asking around, poking into taverns.  Norgat is not safe for a return sir.  That's what I'm here to tell you."  "What is you name?" asked Forcellus.  "Guardsman Guwek Tyno sir" was his immediate answer.  He was well trained.  Usually the Castan are a independent lot of boorish drunkards, but that may be my Corvarran showing.  "How well known are you, guardsman?  You stand out a bit" said Forcellus.  "I was new to the unit sir.  Only three days in service.  Just out of Forcellus Academy."  "That explains a lot" said Forcellus clearly impressed.  And it did explain a lot, The Forcellus Military Academy at Blaad is the premier military training school in the kingdom.  "You'll serve with me, guardsman" pronounced Forcellus.  The large man beamed "Thank you sir -  yes sir"

Next: Autumn Descends

"You don't actually plan on taking this beast with you?" I asked them.  We had visited the stables to get their mount.  As sorry a piece of horseflesh as you ever saw.  A liability in my opinion.  Innkeeper Palen patriotically offered to buy the nag they called "Old Nan".  "You can have it" said Forcellus "after it gets us out and back into the city.  In the meantime, it's our disguise".  I was not so sure that it would not just call attention to ourselves in the state that it was in, but I did not say so.

"We need to get news to Grand Duke Zelen Blaad and we need to know if he has any plans to retake the city before the spring." Forcellus said aloud to no one in particular, his frustration mounting.  "I cannot be everywhere."  We stared at him in silence.  He knew we would be of no help, and we did not disappoint him.  "Let's go" he finally said in exasperation.

Palen gave us a small keg of brandy as a cover.  We donned our peasant rags and made off.  We were three of many peasants queuing up to leave the city by way of Norgat.  By the time we could see the guards examining and confiscating it was too late to leave the line we were in.  Morits on horseback patrolled and took special examination of those suddenly deciding to flee  inspection.  I saw one woman viciously slapped with the flat of a blade for refusing to yield a satchel.  When our turned arrived the Morits looked us over suspiciously.  "Where come, where go?" asked one Morit in very bad Domish, his chiseled face aimed at me.  "We been a hoorin'" I said doing my best to look lascivious.  We had agreed that I should do the talking.  I should be insulted that Forcellus regarded my tongue as being "closer to a peasant brogue" but he was right.  "And now we're a go'on home" I added.  Of course the Morit found the small keg.  "Jes water" I mumbled.  I could have lied better but if this Morit thought he had played me it would go better for us in the end I hoped.  I could see by the change in Forcellus' posture that he though the lie a bad move.  "Water hey?" said the Morit grinning slyly.  He leaned in and sniffed the bung.  He stepped away and as he did he smacked me full in the face with his leather gauntlet.  I reared backward forcing Forcellus to catch me.  I hoped that this would stop any retaliation that Forcellus might be planning.  The Morit used a knife to cut the straps and our little bundle was taken.  The Morit pried it open and shared it with his cronies.  I need to remember to poison it next time.  Well, we were out some refreshment and I had a fat lip but at least old Nan clomped along a little easier as they waved us out of the gate.

At Northway we turned toward the small farm hovel that the others in Forcellus' party had rented.  It was nearly covered by trees.  I must admit I was nervous.  I had never met Lord Tirian nor had I ever expected to.  But there he was, suddenly, framed by the doorway.  He caught my eye and I suddenly felt naked.  I had little doubt that in less than a minute he knew exactly who I was and why I had come.  "This is Vin Verde of the Green Veil" Forcellus announced as we entered the small one room hut "he and the Veil aim to help." he added.  "Then I regret having disliked the secret societies of DOM" said Tirian with a coy smile, "they come in handy after all".

We stoked the fire and sat down to eat and talk.  I nearly fell asleep after the long days walk.  It was decided that Tirian, Karek and Veltek would cross the Dorcer Sea to travel to Petros to speak to Prince Karsh and that Forcellus and I would travel back to DOM to organize.  We would eventually meet again at the Gaping Maw, leaving word with Palen.

Next: Guwek Tyno

Sir Forcellus Blaad, Sir Veltek Malpedi and I were off to Northway to meet up with none other than Lord Tirian of the Church of Elemental Unity.  My circle of friends had definitely elevated.  I would resist the temptation to try to lift the telepathic brooch that Lord Tirian is rumored to have. 

We did have a single stop to make before braving passage through the well watched Norgate Bar.  I did not dare go back home, Forcellus might be recognized if we passed through the center city so getting to Sougat would be off limits unless we wanted to swim or take a boat.  So our only stop would be at the Gaping Maw Tavern.  The Inkeeper, Palen Corva, was a good man and a patriot.  I knew that he would help if at all possible and we needed to have updates on the city both above and below ground.  He was also a member of the Green Veil as I was.  It was handy that Sir Forcellus and Sir Veltek had planned to stay at that very tavern.  We went back to the Maw very late in the evening.  All taverns were to close before ten by Morit edict, and everyone off the streets by midnight.  We were too late for last orders, but we had not yet hit curfew.  "Boarders!" shouted Forcellus as we knocked at the door.  We were let in by a serving wench.  She eyed us suspiciously but said nothing.  I could see Palen in the back room behind the bar sitting at a desk nursing an ale.  Forcellus looked nervous as I took my leave to seek Palen, but he did not try to stop me.  I felt sure that Palen would recognize me, but I hoped my old rep had not substantially outweighed my newer, cleaner rep.  "Mr. Corva?" I opened.  He eyed me stonily.  "Make sure the girl locked the door" was all he said. 

We all sat around a small table in the back.  He had recognized Sir Forcellus earlier, he told us.  "I thought it prudent not to let on" he said "If there is some kind of plan then I am in.  But are you sure you trust him?" he said pointing at me.  I was not shocked by his lack of confidence, but I also knew that he was having me on.  Palen is not chatty like most barkeeps are, but he held a wry wit usually aimed to kill.  Forcellus smiled and answered "for the moment, we have decided simply not to let him out of our sight.  We have to trust someone.  Can we trust either of you?  We cannot know.  "The Green Veil are not traitors" said Palen.  I knew then that he was in.  You don't invoke the Veil to cover a lie.  "I am glad to hear that" Forcellus countered.  "Then perhaps you can help us." 

Lord Forcellus asked many questions and Palen corroborated my stories.  "The city is in a state of shock" he said.  "It all happened so fast.  We are all waiting for some kind of direction.  The only thing we did instinctively was block the underground.  Hide a piece of DOM for ourselves.  But it's only a matter of time before Fortan or some drunken patron bound for the Nightshade reveals it.  They probably already know."  His tale was going from bad to worse.  It seems the town was in depression as well as shock.  "They know" said Veltek with seeming surety.  "But how many places in DOM can they police?  If I were the Morits, I'd happily ignore the underground until it proves a problem.  Then simply batten it down and let the spring wash flush it."  "Veltek is right" said Forcellus "If they start to patrol it - they will lose too many men and thereby lose the fear and respect they count on.  Better to pretend they don't know about it.  But this means they may not know it's extent.  This is a game that we must play to our advantage."  Then Palen look at me and with a straight face delivered "and so you will need this sewer rat here."

Next: Farewells

I had chosen to expose my nature to a celebrity.  One of my drinking buddies of six years earlier was none other than Forcellus Blaad of the DOM Guard.    It was well known prior to the Morit attack, that he had left with Lord Tirian, the abbot of the CEU to battle the great darkness.  So the champion of the DOM Guard was gone when the Morits came blasting in.  That is why it was such a surprise to see his face that afternoon in the Gaping Maw.  His ragged appearance did not fool me.  You don't forget a face under the circumstances of our first meeting.  I could tell that he did not recognize me.  He was waiting for someone.  I felt  sure that the Morits would cart him off if they knew who he was. He finally saw me staring, and quickly looked away.  The tavern was not crowded, but it would be soon.  Perhaps he was waiting for a crowd.  I could not wait any longer, and strolled over to his table carrying an ale.  A smaller man sat with him.  Not the Raylan Abbot Tirian I was sure, but he was no soldier.  He looked nervous.  "Bertram!" I said.  "Game of 5-dice?" and sat down next to them.  Blaad's face went pale.  He was trying to place my face.  "Glad to see you recovered from our binge with Coros and the Castan" I said with a low voice.  Suddenly his face flooded with guarded recognition.  "I am a patriot, Bertram" I said quickly, and quietly.  "Can I help?"  I must have sounded as sincere as I truly was, because he took the bait.  "Perhaps" he answered.  "I am looking for information."  "Then I can help" I said.

We left the Gaping Maw and went to Janos' farm in Wesgat.  Janos was a friend of Heston Coros.  I stayed there after Dorgat was taken.  I did not want to chance crossing the city center or underground to get to the small stone house I call home in Sougat.  Not wanting to involve Janos, we sat in the barn and talked.  Forcellus asked lots of questions.  Most of which I could answer.  The Green Veil was everywhere, and we knew the score.  I told him that the Morits went for the Dorcers first, imprisoning ministers and guard officials.  The castle was taken, and King Lythe Petros II and Queen Lira Coosa Petros were both held within.  The Morits took the central city hostage and threatened slaughter if the gate to the keep was not opened.  The guilds were next. Jonas Fortan was given the choice to stay on or be replaced by a Morit.  He is seen by many as a traitor as he agreed to stay, but I am not so sure he's not just buying time.  The Morits have not asked about the Veil or the Font and unless someone speaks up, they might not think to ask.  The Paternal hostages might squeak though.  The Morits have forbade all assemblies beyond ten men.  There has been a lot of killing and hostage taking to insure the peace."

Concerning Morit military strength I said "the Morits have a force at every Bar Gate in town.  I don't have to tell you that the town is defendable from a land attack even with small numbers.  But they could not withstand an attack by the Blaad, army, say."  I knew by his look that Forcellus did not expect the Blaad army any time soon.  "The DOM Guard and the Royal Army are gone" I said.  "The latter is in Corbam and Castan helping with the dead from the darkness.  The DOM Guard… are all held, or dead."  I could see that these words stung Forcellus deeply.  "Where is Lord Karsh?" he asked hoarsely.  "He had left the city before the attack.  He is at Castle Corvarras in Petros."  "That is at least something" he said sadly.  Gathering his resolve he said "He must be brought this news".  "Sir" I added, "they also have not yet entered the underground."

Next: Until We Meet Again

My son, if you are reading this, you may think by now that I was just a thieving dog.  And you would be right.  But I had honor.  If I told you that I would not steal from you, then I would not.  No matter how drunk you got, or how large a purse you had.  But if I made no such promise, then all bets are off.  I would expect no more from you.

One evening when I was just turned 18, I was outside the Maw.  I was checking the field when three guys as drunk as can be walked past, and into the Maw.  Two of the guys were soldier buddies laughing and carrying on.  A big Blaad and a bigger Castan.  The third was shorter, older and reeked of money.  A Corvarran Land Lord.  The three of them were off together for a night on the town.  The two could grind me up for meat pie, but if they got drunk enough in the Maw, I would still chance it on the old man. 

The amount of drink they  held was amazing.  I followed them around from one tavern to the other.  They caught sight of me at one point, "I know you!" the Blaad soldier said, slurring his words.  Naturally I played along.  They had probably seen me enough that night for me to become a family member.  So I was added to their roving party.  The old man brought the drinks.  His name was Heston Coros.  He apparently owned lots of land in Sougat.  He had a fat purse at his waist that called to me with a sweet voice.  He was a kindly old guy who seemed to like me.  I reminded him of a lost son, he told me.  I just hoped he had no romantic plans for our future.  By the time we worked our way back to the Maw we were all ripping drunk.  We went into the tavern, and then I did three things that I never would have done sober.  One, I never stole from anyone inside the tavern.  Sacred ground. Two, I never steal from those who may later figure out it was you, like three guys that you carouse with all night.  And three, NEVER try to steal something while piss drunk.  Hell I SAWED that purse off with a dull tavern knife while the Corvarran was still talking!  Drink and thieving do not go well together, remember that my son.  Well to make a long and painful story short, the soldiers sobered up quickly enough when they caught me in the act.  At the behest of the barman, I was hauled into the street by the two soldiers.  The Castan wanted to beat me bloody, luckily the Blaadi heeded Coros, who had other plans for me.  They took me to his estate in Sougat and locked me in a room.  They finished their party without me, and luckily the Castan forgot about mincing me for afters.

Heston Coros was just a nice guy.  But he was no innocent.  He was a ranking officer in the Green Veil as well as a rich landowner.  He took me under his wing.  I took an oath and became an emissary for the Green Veil, working for him.  I promised not to steal, unless he asked me to.  I promise to uphold the creeds of the "brothers of the bountiful harvest and the green vale."  I even learned to speak some Corvarran.

Coros did not have to work, but he always did.  He would check on harvests, give advice on feed, but also quietly have a guildsman beaten for cheating a peasant farmer.  He was a good man.  The father I never had.  When the Morits came to DOM, I had been with him for six years.  He was at the Royal docks inspecting a crate of sour apples from Wesgat. Too little sun this year.  He had no idea that he would be the first casualty of the Morit War.  The shot from that damn Morit ship gun went through him and sprayed him into the inner city. 

Heston Coros was a Domish patriot.  He would have been proud to die for his country.  I will miss the old sot.

Next: A Fateful Meeting

I am no great writer.  I will say that upfront.  I write these things down so that my sons and daughters will know who I was and what I did during the Moritanian attack.  I am a worse family man than a writer, so this journal may have to suffice for fatherhood.  Truth be told, I am telling this to someone and they are writing it down.  I never had time for my letters.

I am not a Traisgan.  And my name is not actually "green wine" in that tongue.  I do not know my real name.   This new name was stuck to me by the Corvarran trader who discovered me stowed aboard his vessel, the High Winds.  I was not a willing passenger.  I could easily fit into a leather satchel, and that's exactly where I was.  Who left me there?  I never found out.  I probably never will.  That is why I am writing this to the sons and daughters that I do not know, and one now that I finally do know.  Too old to move my ass across the room now, I have finally settled it and took a bonafide wife.  She's a sweet thing and she's given me a son.  The least that I can do is get something in writing before I fall over dead. 

My new seafaring "dad" turned out to be a drunken gambler who liked to watch sores develop on my body at his hands for fun.  I left him pretty early on and made my own way.  I've had pretty much every job in DOM I think, in my time.  I was not much good at any of them.  The one that I was good at was stealing.  I could steal a melon out of your hands, that you were currently eating.  I knew the contents of your pocket better than you did.  And I was good at gambling.  And so, after awhile, I made my living doing what I was good at.  In those days I would start perhaps outside the Gaping Maw or the Red Fist Inn.  I would frisk a few drunken merchants, then head to the Black Horde Inn or to the underground to the Nightshade where I would hopefully double the lot in five-dice with rich men that would not cry over a lost crown or two.  I took care never to fleece the Font, the Veil or the Paternals.

I don't think I'm telling trade secrets here - this stuff is common knowledge now.  Being able to read, you are probably smart enough to know that the Green Veil is the less-than-above-board wing of the Corvarran Land Lords.  Let's start back a bit further if you don't mind.  You probably already know that the City of DOM was long ago settled by three main groups.  The Dorcers were here first.  They still own most of the land in the center city (Dorgat) and collect rents.  They are ministers and judges.  The damn province is named after them.  They are old money, and the most high-born.  The second group are the Fortans.  The Fortans are a clever lot of business dicks.  They formed the Guilds, and they still pretty much run them, no matter what you hear the crown say.  The third group were the Corvarrans from the south.  They came here in large numbers and helped enlarge the city by working hard and getting huge tracts of what Dorcer thought useless floodplain land too far away from the city in exchange for food and other goods.  But that useless land was built up, and is now Sougat.  The Corvarran landowners are rich.  When King Julian passed the Land Use Law and they were able to purchase land, they did just that.

As you can imagine, there is a lot of shenanigans that go on when you have three powerful clans in the same town.  These three groups all have secret brotherhoods to complete their less than savory tasks.  The Dorcers have "The Paternals", the Fortan have "The Black Font" (House Fortan's crest bears a black fountain), and the Corvarrans have "The Green Veil" (a play on the word "vale" as you probably realize.)

Next: I take an Oath

Having lived in DOM for most of his adult life, Forcellus Blaad knew the city well.  Or at least the portions of the city that were frequented by the highborn.  For Forcellus was the Great Grandson of Garthon Blaad, one of the two great generals of King Lythe Petros I and the DOM Civil War.  He was named after the other General, who served as Grand Duke of Blaad, and who he distantly related to.  He was a graduate of the Forcellus Military Academy.  Forcellus knew that the best source for unguarded information in DOM was in its taverns.  His local was the Black Horde in Dorgat, the city center.  The Horde would be problematic as Dorgat was now a Morit camp according to Bardol.  The closest inn was The Inn of the Bleeding Sore of Northgat.  It was the favorite of Castan expatriates.  During the midwinter Festival of Lights the Castan Khost and Icekregg teams would take over the inn completely.  Forcellus was certain that Castan Province would remain fiercely loyal, but they could not be counted on for discretion or subtlety.  The unfortunate men that morning at Midgat Bar were Castan.

Forcellus needed a city tavern.  This meant one of four.  He went over each in his mind.  The Crushed Face at Midgat Bar was a farm workers tavern.  They would know little of the inner city. The Inn of the Broken Tooth in Sougat would be informed, but so close to the Sougat Bar and the inner city of Dorgat not to be closely watched.  There was the Red Fist Inn, the hangout of the tanners, smiths and merchant men.  It was also uncomfortably close to the inner city of Dorgat.

The logical choice was the Gaping Maw Tavern.  A tavern with a cross section of working men, including those from the shipyards.  It also held an entrance to the DOM Underground, the series of tunnels that ran under the city streets.  That might prove helpful at some point.  For good or ill he was unknown in the tavern and had set foot into it only once in his life, during a drunken binge with Academy mates visiting during the midwinter festival maybe six years ago.  They had demanded to visit "every tavern in DOM", which they did actually accomplish.

Veltek wanted to visit the DOM University, to discover the fate of his mentor the Energeticist Zanzibar, but they decided that it was too risky.  The University, which taught Energetics and Academic studies was located in part of the Royal Castle.

And so they headed off to the Gaping Maw.  They stabled Stalker at the tavern, telling the tavern stabler that they wanted to sell her.  He looked at them incredulously, then smiled wryly and said "you're joking right?"  Poor Stalker did look as if he would not last the night.  "Could sell 'im to the renderer maybe.  If he dies soon" the man said.  "You want 'im to die soon?" he said only half joking.  "We'll find a buyer" Forcellus said tossing him a coin and they left the stable.

The Gaping Maw Tavern was not busy.  There were only two occupied tables, one with two rough looking characters, the other with four men that were apparently discussing the rigging of Morit ships in loud voices.  They fell silent and watched the newcomers as  they entered.  Crossing the room to the Ale bar they found the Innkeeper and attempted to repeat the performances that they gave in Northway, but the Innkeeper was less chatty than Bardol.  They secured a room for the night, ordered an ale and sat down at one of the tables to plan their next more.  Forcellus felt the eyes of a man at the table opposite him and looked up.  The short tough looking man was looking directly at him.  His heart leapt into his throat, Forcellus could tell that he was recognized, and he had no idea who the other man was.

Next: Vin Verde of the Green Veil