Rise of the Tyrants – Session One

[This session write-up was done by Tony M from Thanos's perspective]

It’s been three weeks since my bout with the undefeated Titus of Gaul. The crowd witnessed a fine display, for half an hour we traded blows until his deathly speed slipped past my guard. To be fair I think he could have finished it a lot sooner. Despite my strength I was tiring, my reactions slowing, and my muscles burning, the sun beating down and reflecting up from the hot sand. My wounds were not great and we both profited from the show, in fact I have never been so rich. I think my master also profited from the show, he was a guest of the Tyrant, and I saluted them both before the bout.

In honour of the achievement I have been granted a respite from the arena, a month or more to let my body heal. To this end I have been sent from Syracuse to Gela, I am to serve the brother of my master’s wife.

Cyrus is not a man of great stature, but what strikes you most is his calming and friendly presence. He can still the chatter of a noisy tavern simply by walking through the door. Needless to say he is popular with the ladies, and usually is surrounded by them.

I soon discovered that although Cyrus was a noble by birth, he was not a wealthy man. He had taken lodgings in a modest tavern entertaining the locals with stories and song of days gone by, heroes and the gods.

One afternoon as we took our rest in the tavern, Cyrus was approached by a merchant of some standing. Simonides was an honest man by all accounts and needed to call in a favour. Despite sending a relief to the lighthouse its fire had not been seen for two nights. After payment had been discussed we had agreed to meet Simonides the following morning on the docks where he would provide passage out to the lighthouse. Despite my presence, Cyrus felt the need for additional protection and proceeded to engage an unemployed city guard for the mission. My first impressions of Rhadamanthus were not favourable, an unclean drunkard more likely to run than stand his ground I thought. It was not my place to tell Cyrus his business; however I did make a mental note to keep an eye on Rhad, as I felt he was not to be trusted.

We took passage in a small row boat, piloted by a grey beard by the name of Aristo. We proceeded somewhat slowly out of the harbour as Rhad demonstrated his in ability to man an oar; at least it entertained the dock hands.

Arriving on the isle we beached our boat and took in the surroundings. A small covered dock sheltered several row boats that had been upturned for storage, next to which the relief’s boat rested well above the high tide mark. An obvious path led up and away from the beach to a set of stairs rising to the lighthouse itself.

All was quiet, as we ascended the stairs but as it was midday this was not unexpected, after all the sun was fierce at this time. Starting to cross the sturdy wooden bridge the connected the two parts of the isle we spotted a multitude of gulls and crows feeding on something ahead. This was the first indication that something was seriously wrong. Double checking my armour I drew my sword and advanced slowly. Despite my warnings of plague Rhad strode forward seemingly unconcerned until we spotted a boot. It was one of the slaves, his body ravaged by the birds but more importantly the spear which killed him remaining firmly in place.

Trying somewhat unsuccessfully to move silently towards the lighthouse I took the lead. Passing through the dead ground and climbing the steps I spotted another body hanging from the first floor balcony, but no movement. Closing to the building I could see nothing through one of the many windows, and moved to the front door. After a quick nod from Cyrus I entered the lobby, to discover another body lying in a pool of his own blood.

Cyrus followed me into the lobby, but Rhad was nowhere in sight, a fact that I had little time to ponder as one of the many doors opened. Into view came a tottering, drunken trollkin which I slashed across its stomach. It staggered backwards into the room from whence it came; I followed and cut it down before noticing the others.

A mass of tuskans and trollkin were sprawled across the kitchen floor, I severed ones leg as it struggled to rise, then retreated from the room. We took up positions around the door Rhad appearing from a side room to join the fray. A tuskan stepped into the room and was quickly cut down, but not before Cyrus was shot in the head the arrow deflecting off his helm and lodging in his neck muscle.

Retreating upstairs we took a defensive position while Rhad removed the arrow, and patched up the wound. Unfortunately this let the tuskans take the initiative attacking from two directions. I meet the force coming up the stairs whilst Cyrus and Rhad held a defensive formation on the landing. Forcing my way down the stairs I took the fight to the trollkin forcing them to drop their bows. After killing three of them the others fled back down the stairs and out of sight.

I decided not to give chase and returned to find the others had captured a number of trollkin. Whilst Cyrus questioned the captives in their own language, Rhad bound a wound to my left leg. It turned out these trollkin had attacked a wagon train in recent weeks and were seeking out easy targets. They had come ashore at night, and stowed their boat in a cave below the lighthouse. We gave chase but were too late to intercept the rest of the band.