Session — 06/10/989–06/14/989
The Duke’s Errand, the Bridge Toll, and the Road Toward Skade
Before the party ever left Strangeways, they took a moment to name what they were becoming.
Corwin Thorne—constable’s son and would-be investigator—wanted more notoriety for the group and a reputation that would outlive a single lucky job. Gideon Kael, an ex-guard with a stubborn sense of duty, felt responsible for keeping everyone alive—while privately wrestling with the world’s fear of magic. Mol Potts (Melfast), a restless young alchemist, was tired of being small-town “adequate” and wanted to see what he could become somewhere bigger than Strangeways. Leda Gebhart (Shteve), the mayor’s daughter, felt like the town was a cage with flowers painted on the bars. Zel Cunningham (Lev), caught between family obligations and the pull of her growing power, wanted answers—about herself, about magic, and about how far the party was willing to go together.
They didn’t know it yet, but their first true step into the wider world was waiting behind a manor door that barely looked fit to stand.
Strangeways Manor
The party arrived at Strangeways Manor—a dilapidated, half-forgotten estate that looked like it had been built for a richer era and then abandoned by time. From the inside, the place was stranger still: huge bay windows that had been invisible from outside, a grand table set with crystal decanters, and the sense that the building was holding its breath.
There, they met Duke Elric Strangeways (Noble)—short, older, and draped in a red robe like someone who had long ago stopped dressing to impress anyone. He was blunt: he wanted the party to travel for about a week outside Strangeways and act as his eyes and ears.
Corwin made the mistake of asking whether he was the real Duke Strangeways.
Elric didn’t take offense—he simply didn’t care enough to. He admitted he wasn’t particularly interested in ruling the city. He traveled, helped old friends, and moved like someone who answered to history rather than town councils. The party would have to take his word.
They agreed.
Elric called for Hammond, his manservant, to bring maps. Hammond unfurled a roll with a poker like it was dangerous to touch. A second map was produced, and the assignment became clear:
Cross the King’s River. Investigate Skade—and the undead activity surrounding it.
As part of the mission, Elric provided a messenger raven—an ill-tempered creature named Tinky the Raven. Leda tried to pet it. Tinky bit her for her trouble. The Duke seemed pleased.
To make the trip easier—and to make Leda’s escape from Strangeways official—Elric returned with stamped documents: the Blades were in his service for ninety days, with authority to travel and operate under his banner. He wanted them back by the 21st. If things became complicated, they were to send Tinky.
Then, as casually as if dispatching errands to the market, the Duke sent them into a county that sounded like a rumor people didn’t like repeating.
Back in Strangeways
Once safely back in town, the party did what adventurers always do before something terrible happens.
They went to the inn.
At The Holly Bush, Zel changed into something presentable. Garrick Thorne was already there, sitting with Ophelia Gebhart, her husband Bastian Gebhart (Herbalist), and a stranger—someone who did not belong to Strangeways.
Leda, sensing the inevitable conversation, asked Gideon—quietly—not to let her murder her mother.
Bastian was laughing as he retold the story of his wedding, always quick to share a laugh where Ophelia was quick to share judgment. Garrick drank mead and noticed the party immediately. Ophelia interrogated Leda about her dress and demanded to know why they had gone to the Duke.
Corwin produced the Duke’s document.
Even Garrick looked surprised. The paper carried weight. The stamp carried authority. And suddenly, Leda wasn’t just “the mayor’s daughter acting out”—she was a person with orders and protection.
Then Garrick told Gideon something colder than the ale: he could no longer be part of the guard.
Bastian mentioned Hammond—too casually, like the name had history. Then he added the part that made Leda’s stomach drop: Hammond had once dated Ophelia.
And that was when Ophelia introduced the stranger properly.
He was a powerful fighter with a foreign accent, from outside Valen, in service to the King. The kind of man who didn’t need to threaten you, because the threat was implied by his presence.
One by one, the party introduced themselves—carefully.
Zel called herself a bookkeeper. Gardening for the Duke.
Gideon was polite. Called him “sir.” Spoke of farming family and duty.
Leda was polite too—suspiciously polite—and claimed herbalist work.
Corwin said he had business in Skade.
Nazyn offered drinks.
They declined.
And the room moved on—but the feeling didn’t.
Reef’s Reminder
On 06/10/989, the party prepared to leave town, buying supplies and trying to look like people on official business rather than people about to blunder into death.
That was when Reef Marnel found them.
Corwin’s contact smiled like a knife pretending to be a handshake. He’d heard about the Duke’s contract already—through someone at the The Holly Bush (Inn)—and he expected Corwin to return with a gift. Corwin had even given Reef the Everlight Crystal.
Reef made sure Corwin understood the subtext: if Corwin didn’t pay up, Reef would “get the family involved.”
Gideon recognized what Reef was immediately.
When Leda asked who the man was, Gideon answered with one word that carried all the warning he could fit into it.
“Trouble.”
On the Road
The grasslands beyond Strangeways were thick, wind-rippled, and deceptively peaceful. Leda, suddenly in her element, gave camping instructions like someone who’d been waiting her whole life to tell people how to survive outside city walls.
The evenings were calm. The days were hot. Winds came up from the south. Night brought relief.
The first night passed without incident.
Then, on 06/11/989, they reached the river crossing.
A wide bridge—broad enough for three carts—spanned the water, carved stone figures standing along its length. One sculpture showed a man holding another like a corpse: Bridge of the Drowned Man.
And two “guardians” stood waiting.
One was a goblin in mismatched armor with a small pot worn like a helmet. The other was a shaggy, furry brute—most likely a hobgoblin or bugbear.
They claimed the bridge was under Skade’s protection.
They demanded a toll: five silver per person.
Gideon moved to fight.
Battle at the Bridge of the Drowned Man
Leda struck first, calling water into being and slamming it into the bugbear prowler. Zel tried to drop the brute with arrows—missed. Corwin drew steel and tried to remember what he knew about the creature—nothing useful came.
The goblin commando tried to run.
Gideon punished him for it.
The bugbear prowler hit like a falling tree. It dropped Leda hard, then turned on Corwin. Mol rushed in, healing Leda just enough to keep her in the world. The goblin failed to hurt Gideon. Gideon knocked the goblin out cold, choosing control over blood—at least for the moment.
Zel called cold into her hands and struck the bugbear with frost. Corwin stabbed the goblin brutally as it lay helpless, ensuring it wouldn’t be a problem if it woke up.
Leda stood again—anger held together by magic—and finished the bugbear with a gouging claw that ended the fight as sharply as it began.
What the Bridge Was Hiding
On the far side, the party patched wounds and caught breath.
Gideon interrogated the goblin. Over the edge of the bridge they found something worse: dead guards, dumped like trash. They hadn’t been killed by the goblin pair—these bodies had been there for a while. And the story pointed west.
Mol examined the corpses. Black arrows. Bite marks. Signs of zombies and skeletons.
And the same mark again.
A simple letter carved or stamped where it didn’t belong:
V.
Gideon performed burial rites the old way—burning the bodies, smoke rising into a sky that didn’t care.
That night at the campfire, Leda defended her decision to keep secrets. Magic was dangerous to reveal. Zel’s safety depended on it. Leda spoke of Skade, of the necromancer rumors, of how the dead didn’t walk for no reason.
The road didn’t argue.
It simply kept going.
The March Toward Skade
06/12/989: travel.
06/13/989: an ox, half-eaten—undead work, unmistakable.
By 06/14/989, the party reached shelter.
The Black Boar Inn
They found a small, two-story stone inn with a stable and two mules outside: The Black Boar Inn.
Corwin crept close first, checked windows, listened. It looked reputable.
Inside, warmth and tension mixed in the air. A dwarf woman ran the place, gray showing through her hair. A man in a red hat with a feather drank like he owned the night. An orc traveler sat in worn road clothes, being berated by a halfling who seemed determined to make himself the center of the room.
Corwin “accidentally” spilled beer on the halfling.
Leda secured two rooms and spoke with the innkeeper, learning more about the plague affecting Skade. She claimed they were only passing through Skade on business beyond—carefully phrased, deliberately boring.
Zel noticed something else: a man in black robes, well-traveled, carrying himself like a professional. Not a hunter—something else. A doctor, perhaps.
Mol wandered, eyes always searching. He found a man selling an “anti-plague potion” and decided—immediately—that the man was a fraud.
Mol insulted him.
The man challenged him to a duel.
And just like that, the party’s final quiet night before Skade ended with a stranger’s pride on the table… and Mol Potts’ curiosity lighting the match.
Next Session Reminders
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Mol’s duel with the “anti-plague” salesman
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Who the black-robed doctor really is
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Skade’s plague and undead signs closing in
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The meaning of the “V” mark on arrows and bone