Fiction | Game | Medium Adventurers League ⚔️
Through the Streets of ‘The Bastion’
To a new and more dangerous community of adventurers
This is part of a story that works as an interactive game. You’ll need to have some paper and dice at the ready! Click here for the beginning of the story. You can find a reminder of the rules here, or head back to the previous chapter here.
By the way, readers, this chapter starts off pretty much the same as ‘To Join The Bastion’s Finest!’, but the later part of the story reflects a different choice.
By early evening, you make it to The Bastion. There was surprisingly little trouble on the way. Well, it should be that way, you reflect — this is the biggest city on the whole island, with the best roads running to and from it. Safe(ish) for travellers and traders.
You’re sure that trouble won’t be far away, however.
The city itself is vast and spectacular, with huge halls, Gothic round-towers, broad cobbled streets, and people of all kinds and species, from beast-folk to half-orcs to fish-folk. There’s even the occasional goblin! You’re aware that the land’s great temples are based here, not to mention Perion’s Pit, the famous combat school.
Further on, there are tall ships in the distance to the east, and mountains can be seen to the west, with the sun sinking over them.
However, the city really stinks. Its packed streets are covered with dung and compacted refuse. Further on, you see a murky-looking lake, with three hanged bodies visible on gallows at the far side.
Mist rises.
As you pause to take in the grim sight, holding your nose, a crazed-looking elven woman approaches you. “The lake’s like an open sewer, isn’t it?” she rants. “It’s full of filth and scum. Sometimes I can hardly take it. The Baron should just — really clean it up, know what I mean?”
“I hear you,” you reply.
“Sometimes I go out and I smell it. I gets headaches, it’s so bad, you know…” Still jabbering, the elf drifts off, and you hurry on down the main street.
After double-checking the directions that Yorrick provided, you arrive at a dank-looking but lively drinking hole named “Rebel Bar”. Does the name have any connection with how people feel about the Baron, you wonder?
As you approach, you see three teenagers staggering away, the worse for wear from drinking, or some other substance use. You push open the door to the place, and are assailed by stenches of a different kind — sweat, stale ale, and vomit.
Despite this, everyone seems to be having a great time. A band of lizard folk are playing drums and fiddles in the shadowy far end of the taproom, and two half-orcs are dancing a jig near the middle. There are tables with lanterns all around.
As you pause, staring, a fish-warrior lurches towards you. You reach for your weapon, but are surprised when he hands you a pint of ale. “Welcome, stranger,” he says. “Here just for a drink, or business?”
“Looking for a friend of a friend,” you reply, glancing over your shoulder. “Sly Stashman.”
“Ah, ha,” the creature says, his dark glittering eyes reflecting the lights of the room. “Ask at the bar.” With this, he slips away.
You move across, sipping cautiously at your drink, and ask the woman currently at the bar — a young human barmaid with curly red hair. When you mention Sly’s name, she asks to see your guild membership pass, and on showing it, she beckons you through a door beside the bar, past the side entrance and latrines, and on to a further doorway, which she unlocks.
Expecting a private meeting room of some kind, you are surprised to find that the new area only contains a set of steps. Without further explanation, the barmaid leads you down a set of stone steps that appear to be leading to a store cellar. But on reaching the bottom, your eyes widen in shock. There is an entire complex down here. You are now in an enormous stone hall, with many corridors and rooms running from both sides, and adventurers of various kinds walking up and down. Two armored warriors clap you on the shoulder with a nod, then take exit via the stairs.
“What is this place?” you ask.
“Some call it The Warren,” the barmaid replies. “And others call it Sly’s Place. But to keep things quiet, it’s often best to just talk about going for a drink at Rebel Bar.”
“Okay…”
Before you get a chance to say more, a slim but muscular red-haired man appears at the woman’s side. “Sly Stashman,” he says, holding his hand out. “I see you met my daughter.”
“I, uh… yep!” you say, shaking his hand. “I’m a league member. Yorrick told me where to come.”
Sly nods, putting one hand on your elbow and guiding you further down the vast corridor, while his daughter returns upstairs. “Welcome, friend. You are joining a vibrant community, but a secretive one. We are adventurers, but not everyone here is a… how should I say? A ‘do gooder’.” He chuckles. “We take all kinds.”
“I see.”
He reaches into his tunic, and pulls out a key. “This is a unique key for your own room that will also open the door that leads to the main stairs.” He presses it into your hand.
Add key to The Warren to your inventory.“Yours is room 13. I hope it’s your lucky number,” adds Sly. “And don’t forget to spend a bit of time, and money, at the bar. That’s where you’ll find quests around here. And besides — I’m not made of money. Talking of which, it’s one silver for the ale that you’re holding.”
Remove one silver piece from your inventory.With that, Sly Stashman walks away.