The Famous (but never encountered) Marienburg Sewer Troll

The Edelmoed Temple (Shallya)

“The Edelmoed? Oh, that’s the temple to Shallya on Potion Square, you mean. Named after a character from some old story, I think.”

“It’s run by a Brother and Sister - at least, I think they’re brother and sister, as well as just by title, if you see what I mean. Good people, or so I hear. But then again, you can probably say that about all of Shallya’s folk! There’s an orphanage across the way, as well – I think that’s something to do with the temple.”

“They’ve got a hostel or flophouse or something built on, but they’re very discreet about it. There were some worries that they’d bring drunks and tramps and who knows what else in from all over. After all, if they’d wanted to do that sort of thing they really should have built the temple on Riddra, not Luydenhoek. But they’ve been very good about it.”

“They’re a very pleasant couple - if couple’s the right word. I think they’re relatives rather than being married. A bit much sometimes, but then most priests can get that way. Mind you, they abide by their own sermons - one or other of them’s always out among the Channel Rats, doing whatever it is they
do for them.”

This small temple to Shallya stands on the north side of Potion Square. It is a plain but well-maintained structure, and like most temples and shrines of Shallya, it includes a small hospice and
shelter for the sick and homeless. Rasmus Edelmoed is a legendary figure. Opinions differ as to whether he was a trader captain or a privateer, but all the versions of his life agree that he was an exceptionally courageous sailor. However, it is his death that is truly notable.

Shipwrecked in the Sea of Claws, he spent three weeks adrift on a raft with a fellow-survivor – a wealthy Marienburg trader. When it became clear that there was only enough food for one of them, Edelmoed, inspired by a vision, gallantly threw himself overboard so that his companion might live.

Edelmoed’s companion was eventually picked up by another Marienburg ship. On his return to the city, he founded the Edelmoed Temple and entered the cult of Shallya. His experiences had left him a changed man: owing his life to an act of selflessness, he tried to spend the rest of it selflessly helping others. Such was his devotion to this ideal that his name is recorded nowhere in the temple’s annals.

Chapter 7: Blood and Guts

The girl shuffled along next to Jormund as he held her hand tightly, reassuring her that she was going back to her mother. Ras and Armand watched as Fredje was taken away by the Black Hats, powerless to stop the marching of the guard, eventually following Jormund back towards the scene of the battle earlier.

Goran lay stable on the floor, blood still pouring from his wound, yet conscious enough to stay on his guard. Jormund sent the girl back up the ladder to the baker’s main store room before pulling the ladder clear and cutting it down to size with his axe to use as a stretcher for Goran. Ras and Armand lifted Goran onto the makeshift transport, agreeing that the Temple of Shallya was the only way he was going to heal from his wounds. Potion Square's Edelmoed temple was closest to their current position, however all were unsure as it was also close to Grossbart’s dwelling.

With no time to waste, Ras pushed on, Jormund travelling ahead of the stretcher to clear the way. Striding up the stairs of the temple, the wounded Goran groaned loudly as his stretcher came to a halt in front of a large desk within polished halls of stone.
The priests of the temple muttered and whispered as matrons and nurses were fetched, along with a cleaning child to mop the stream of blood from the floor that trailed behind Goran. Disarming him, two large priests carried Goran off into a wing of the Temple, Ras agreeing with Jormund and Armand not to leave him alone, electing to stay and keep watch.

Armand and Jormund took their leave of the Temple, Jormund decided to stay around the square, keeping an eye on Grossbart’s front door, just in case, Armand heading back to Riddra, Titus needed to know what had transpired.

As Ras sat next to Goran who lay calm and motionless on one of the many beds that lined the wall, the child with the cleaning bucket appeared with the matron in tow. The child pointing his finger at Ras who looked slightly worried by the accusing finger being shaken at him. Standing abruptly, Ras look one step forward as he motioned to raise his hands as a sign of peace when he heard his boot fall on wet floors. Looking down, he was standing in a pool of blood, his blood. Looking himself over, Ras remembered he had taken a hit at the hands of the brute, shielding Goran, Ras failed to feel the large gash that hung open at his left shoulder, the skin cut deep to almost reveal bone. The matron approached, placed her hands on him and within a short time, Ras was lying in the next bed along the wall from Goran, healing with ridiculous speed.

Jormund wandered in and out of shops in the square, alchemist, apothecary, leather worker, all dismissing the dwarf as a time waster, especially the alchemist who seemed more concerned with what was being bumped into than even trying to sell his wares. Jormund’s gaze however never strayed far from the Tavern, his eyes keen and his senses sharp.

Armand flung the doors of the Gentleman’s Club open, sighting Olaf at the bar, Armand demanded to see Titus. Olaf did not budge, only signalling that he could go straight up the stairs. Out of breath from his race back to the club, Armand entered the meeting room where the voices of several Guild members could be heard, as he entered, all eyes fell on him, Titus, Martinus, Oldrik, Willem and Rikkert.
Stunned, Armand broke the silence letting all the details spill. Goran was in the temple, Grossbart’s enforcer was the ringleader, the Estalians were not Estalians, everything. Titus cut him off after a short time, issuing orders instead. Martinus was to look into where Fredje was being held, Willem was to watch the waterways for threats coming or going, Rikkert was to take two men to the Temple of Shallya to watch Goran, Armand was to gather Ras and Jormund and return immediately.

The round trip was fast, Armand feeling like he was going to fall over as he returned to the Gentleman’s club with Jormund and the rested Ras behind him. Olaf again signaled for the three to move upstairs, Titus less surprised this time, ushering the men to sit, the Lieutenants also watching closely.

As Ras and Jormund were asked to corroborate the story of Armand, Ras gave a detailed explanation, Jormund seconding most of the story. The decision was made by the lieutenants and Titus, Fredje would have to be captured, he would need to be returned for questioning. Martinus had dispatched his men to find where in Suiddock the hulking individual was being held, news expected before morning. Titus then decided to discuss another matter, the expedition to Knife Alley, the Estalian Quarter.

Laying down the law to Armand who had taken point on the journey, Titus’s displeasure at his meeting with Nunez the most profound insult of the trip. Armand did his best to explain, Titus knowing of Armand’s quest for vengeance, yet seemed to show respect at the Estalian’s restraint. Titus however did mention that although the truth had been discovered, the cost across the water may exact a high toll in the future.
Another note of the meeting, Titus commanded Armand to meet him at 11pm at the fighting pits on the north end of Riddra, a place Armand knew well having sparred there with Bernhardt over the past few months. The reason for such a late liaison remaining hidden, although the invitation was extended to all who wanted to attend.

After an evening of rest at their lodging, Jormund, Ras and Armand continued to discuss how they were to get Fredje out and return him in one piece, it would not be an easy task, Armand’s mind however strayed, the fighting pit school, everyone knows what happens there after nightfall. During the day, it is just that, a fighting pit school, at night, people fought for real.
As 11pm arrived, Armand, Ras and Jormund entered the gates of the fighting pits, recognizing numerous members of the crowd, including Titus and several other guild members, Armand was quickly ushered away by two of the servants who worked the pits. Ras and Jormund entering the stands and ordering fresh ale and food.
Armand found himself in the dressing room, told to strip down to his pants and wait to be called.

Sitting close to Titus, Ras and Jormund raised their steins of ale in voice with the crowd as two men fought viciously within the pit, bone and knuckles red with blood. As the brawl cane to an end, the announced entered the centre of the pit. Announcing a special fight, a challenge had been issued by a foreigner against Armand, the local Estalian. Ras and Jormund watched Armand enter the ring, his wiry frame unmistakable against the average looking opponent who entered apposite him.
Within moments, Ras immediately placed a bet on Armand, Jormund, just to keep things interesting, bet on the other man.

In the centre of the arena, the stranger began his jests at Armand, depicting that the Estalian had murdered his sister. Armand was confused at first, asking who his sister was. Then came the cold chill of knowledge, the servant girl in the house where they stole the scrimshaw, the accident, the girl that woke up only to impale herself on his blade.
Without the time to explain, Armand and the man were cuffed together, two foot of chain connecting them. Two 2-inch blades stabbed in the ground, it was to be a close quarter’s fight, bloody and raw.
As the curtain raised on the fight, Armand knew he had no choice, launching himself at the man, not immediately reaching for a blade, he knocked the man down, unleashing a flurry of blows into his face and side before the sting of steel found him. The man had plucked a knife and sliced at Armand’s ribs. Retaliating, Armand also grabbed a blade.

The next few minutes were a violent exchange of stabs and slices, both men showing several cuts of a shallow nature, yet enough to bathe the men in blood. Armand finally gaining the upper hand and driving his blade into the man’s neck, not fatal, but incapacitating. Armand pleaded with the man to surrender, he could be saved, the man however, pulling Armand’s knife from his neck in a huge spurt of blood that within moments gurgled into his lungs and drowned him.

Triumphant, Armand marched into the dressing room, the cutters waiting to sew him up, there he sat, needles piercing his body, stitches sealing his wounds, brandy on his lips, in his mind, only venom, venom and rage.
Meeting Jormund and Ras outside, Ras handed Armand the winnings of his bet on the fight, explaining that Armand should give the coin to the family of the deceased. Armand snorted at the request, his mind frustrated that the man had challenged him, Ras pressed the issue, however Armand grew tired of the requests, who was this marsh dweller to teach him about honour or justice?

Returning to their lodgings, Armand began to drown his pain in more brandy, joined only briefly by Jormund, however his foul mood soon turning the dwarf to retire for the evening.
2am chimed across the city, the same time a knock came at the door of Ras, Armand and Jormund. Martinus himself delivered the news, Fredje was being held at Watch house Station 6 in Stoessel, five Black Hats on duty with no date for transfer currently known.

As the sun came to the centre of the sky, Ras, Armand and Jormund developed the plan to involve Sharky and Van Dorp, the two Black Hats who dwelled on Riddra, in an effort to see if the guards at watch station six were able to be bribed.
Entering the tavern the two black hats occupied, the discussion was unnerving. The two pulling out all of the stops in an effort to get as much gold for their troubles as possible. Ras lost his temper with the two first, his knuckles turning white underneath the table they sat at. Armand close behind, unknowingly clutching his dagger before Jormund stepped in, blocking the way between Armand and Sharky.

As the conversation eventually returned back to a sense of frustrated civility, Sharky and Von Dorp agreed to investigate Watch station 6,  they would return with information and to collect their reward for doing such an act.
It was early evening when the hooded figure of Goran appeared on the doorstep of the lodgings the group resided in, Ras was the first to take Goran by the shoulder and aid him inside. Still struggling with basic movements, he reassured the group that he was able to participate in the plan that Jormund and Armand explained regarding the watch station. Sitting in a padded chair next to the still healing
Armand, the four began to drink and exchange stories, bringing Goran up to speed on how Titus had reacted, the semi mobilization of the guild to investigate Fredje’s actions and Grossbart’s possible involvement along with the challenge Armand faced in the duelling pits.

Laughing at how everything seems to happen when Goran is not there, the four continued to drink well into the early morning.
As the sun reached its peak in the sky, the four re-entered the tavern Sharky and Von Dorp called home, sighting them at their usual table, the four approached directly. Explaining that the Sergeant of the Watch Station was not a man to be bribed, however he was not going to be there in the evening, the Corporal of the station, Karel, was however able to be bought, but only for tonight before the Sergeant returns.
Sharky and Von Dorp would wait across the street from the watch station, making sure they intervened should the group’s actions not be complete by the time any patrol approached the station. Jormund however was hesitant, agreeing with Armand, Goran and Ras they he should remain outside, to keep an eye on the corrupt Black Hats.

*

The Watch Station was a mess, blood littered the walls, body parts strewn across the floor. Counting the devastation, at least four heads lay about the room. The cell was empty, Ras and Goran holding their hands across their mouths, unable to decide if they would vomit or not. Armand just stood in shock, looking for a clean patch of wall to brace himself against. Jormund finally made his way inside the station, Sharky and Von Dorp disappearing into the night having glanced the death and destruction. Composing themselves, it was Goran who first noticed the trap door behind the main desk of the watch desk. Raising the wooden door, the stench of sewer drains wafted into the watch station, barely masking the smell of fresh blood and death. Ras was first to enter, encouraging the rest to follow, Armand, Goran and Jormund eventually disappeared beneath the trap door, Jormund taking the lead in the dark. Barely 20 meters down the tunnel, Jormund came to a stop, spying a strange print in the mud and filth. A large footprint, at least three times the size of a man’s.

Ras immediately whispered the words of Trolls that dwell in sewers, his conclusion, a troll had killed everyone in the watch station and helped Fredje escape. Following several tunnels, the stench growing with every meter they trudged, yet no signs of whatever had left the print.
Ras crossed the shallow water of the tunnel, in doing so, his foot sank deeper than he expected, filling his boot with foul smelling muck.
The complaining was endless, Jormund eventually leading the group to an outlet where the sewer tunnel met the shore. All waded into the shallow water, splashing their faces and skin in an attempt to remove the stench that now engulfed them.

No sign of Fredje, he was gone.

The disappointment Titus showed was obvious on his face. Mixed with the constant upturning of his nose at the smell that emitted from the four now standing in front of him. Already developing a plan in his own mind, Titus dismissed the four to rest, bathe and sleep, turning to Olaf and Rikkert for whispered discussions as the group withdrew.

Three men and a dwarf entered the bathhouse of Riddra, smelling of rot and filth. The early hours of the morning turned into the late hours of the afternoon before any of the four left the water. Soaking themselves several times, both externally and internally with wine and brandy. A messenger from Titus intercepted Goran, Ras, Armand and Jormund as they breathed in the cool evening air without the scent of filth in their nostrils. Titus had summoned them for a meeting with Grossbart.

The Long Dragon was alive with guests, drinking and eating their evening meals and making merry, oblivious to the group of men who entered. Titus, Rikkert, Ras, Armand, Goran and Jormund all fell under the gaze of Rolf, Grossbart’s right hand who waited on the balcony overlooking the dining hall. Waiving them upstairs, Rolf led his guests along the balcony and into a large meeting room, filled with finery, a large table in the centre of the room with matching chairs, all elegantly engraved.
As all sat, a feast was arrayed in front of them, all speaking in hushed voices as they ate and drank. Rolf rose from his chair, demanding silence. The only noise heard in the room was coming from the balcony outside, the sliding of cloth on wooden floors and the sharp rapping of wood striking floorboards. The door to the room swung open, Grossbart entered slowly, walking on two canes, his legs bandaged, only briefly visible as his robe shifted with every staggered step. Sitting at the head of the table, the four sighted the evidence of boils and scabs littering his skin around his face and collar.

When Grossbart finally spoke, his words were gravelly and cracked, his voice emitting that of a man of ancient age, echoed by his decrepit appearance. He began to explain to the table that all of the Guild members from Stoessel, the second island of the three that made up the middle part of Suiddock, had been killed. The search of Fredjes quarters yielding little to know evidence of what his activities had been, the only strange belongings, two envelopes addressed to and from Klassen, a town south of Marienburg within the Marshes.

Grossbart demanded the return of his former employee, dead or alive, promising rewards that had been sought by all yet remained elusive.