The day in the Palace of the Magistrate of Eshtaband opens as it usually does, with servants seeing to the needs of the officials and priests in the Palace. Rooms and food are prepared, passages swept and, in the quarters of the agents, Fetnah makes her peace with the spirit world, to clear her connection and enhance her powers.

The first order of business for the group comes from Shararah, the duty liason between the group and Harvan, once a position occupied by Utana before he became their, in Harvan’s eyes, leader or, to put it bluntly, the one to blame if things go wrong. Shararah takes them to the Palace armoury, there weapons and armour are made available to them, though José prefers to buy his own, which has been fabricated since he ordered it. The archers also had more silvered arrows made,

The group improve their protection, though, of course, wearing armour normally is frowned upon, on penalty of arrest as a possible bandit or rebel, and decide to get recruitment of the army of servants that they will need for the conference, started. Shararah points them at Tingis, the deputy to the Palace major-domo.

As this is very much in Tingis’s normal day to day work, he is more than happy to help though, of course, as he is doing the group’s work,  they should pay him a consultant’s or finder’s fee. Fetnah and Utana persuaded him that instead, his fee would be expenses of the conference. Tingis drafted a requisition on a wax tablet, and got Utana’s mark authorising it.

That being done, they saddled up to ride the hour to the Palace of Nashwa, this ancient Hassaryu palace was once the home of Governors and before that, local monarchs. Within the walled pennisula, roughly six square miles, are a complex of buildings and, to the east some older ruins. In a small wood of trees, a large rock, the entrance to the tombs of the monarchs, south of that, a Temple to the cold ones, old, in need of repair, but sopunder than it looks, and to the east of that, a ruined tower.

The gates through the walls were closed, but opened to some pushing from Utana, after Jalabu’s attempts to open it with his head had failed. Inside the comple, they noticed the lack of upkeep, it was not fallimg down and it was untidy and, finding the head caretaker, Armon, an elderly human whose assistants, he said, were not much younger. The Palace gets maintenance once a year, but that is not, from what can be seen,  enough to do all that is needful, the supplies are only enough for the current staff, and the bedding and accoutrements of a working palace are inadequate.

As they go, they check the wells, being surprised at how deep and sweet the water was, The lines were ling, the wells lined with smooth stone and lay

Confirming what they should have known about the state of the place, they decide to check out the ruins. Summoning a reluctant and surly spirit of the area, Fetnah learns that the area above ground is home to that one, underground in the tombs were the unquiet spirits of the dead monarchs, 5 of them and their servants, who resent their descendants no longer ruling. The local spirit offered two notions, the unquiet monarchs would have to be destroyed or placated with offerings, to show respect. The local guide did ask that, to persuade it to do what it could during the conference, offerings of incense and flowers be, made at the Temple.

Next, to the Temple of the Cold Ones. In better repair than it looked, the local spirit told of crypts underneath. These were after a store of religious regalia and tools. The crypt was in good order, niches of urns surrounded by model grave goods. Smersh’s connection with the Cold Ones let him know that they were still connected to the temple, and he felt that the local spirit’s desire for daily sacrifices would be easy to achieve with the normal worship.

Next to the Tower, a ruin, the upper floors fallen, but the group found that fallen wreckage was, in fact, a door, opening on a sloped passage leading down and east towards the salt lake. Jalabu led the way, his magic shield lighting as they went, until Utana and Smersh almost slipped on wet moss, into water as the passage continued down.

For some reason, Farshad admitted to being able to swim, so they sent him down into the water at the end of the rope. Farshad did not far well but, more worryingly, a serpentine figure with arms and hands came for him and he was yanked bodily out of the water, narriowly avoiding smashing his head on the ceiling.

The serpentine figure with its snaky face did not follow and so they left, intending next time to go to the tombs under the rock. Not sure why, but that is for next time, and there we left it.

Our group found themselves back in Bukrish, a village with mixed emotions, glad that the bandits that had come there hunting the group had been defeated, but concerned that if the group stayed there, more would come. The group, mostly, decided to resupply and figure out what to do, well, mostly.

Farshad moped a bit, despondent that the crow man had been cured, the former crow man was himself talking to the villagers, trying to find out where he was, and could anyone use a scholar who had lost his way, tablets and purpose.

Fetnah decided to cheer Farshad up. She spent time preparing, to clear her own spirit and enhance her powers, and she sent her spirit forth to seek the crow spirit. She found it as it, lost, it was circling around, itself unsure of what had happened to it. She seized the spirit and placed it into a crow that she had carved, not well, recognisably a bird, but uneven of wing and bent of beak. The bird hopped around, settling on Farshad’s shoulders, pecking lightly on his ear.

Whilst this was going on, the Utana, Jose and Smersh looked around the village to see what they could find to help them in such a run down mining village, long past  its best. Utana gave Smersh some funds as a loan, and they obtained some food, some arrows for Utana and Smersh, Smersh also picking up a light bow and a buckler. After her spirit conjurations, Fetnah also traded some ingots for good quality ingredients and spices.

That being done, the group decided to chase down one of the groups of scouts they had seen, and considered that the Eastern group, on the higher hills would be easier to track than the ones through the boggy heathland. Utana led the way, and after w while the smoke of a fire was spotted. Smersh went ahead, muddy and as camouflaged as if he deliberately meant to be, seeing two scouts by a fire, preparing to move off, but he was not as quiet as he might be. One cautiously headed in the direction Smersh was, spear out, as he hunted for the source of the noise. Smersh’s arrow was keen and severely injuring. As Fetnah hid, Utana and José loosed arrows.

Lightly armoured though they were, the scouts were no match for the group, the scout closest to Smersh refused his offer of surrender, and so was downed, the other fled, but was bravely and heroically shot down, in the back.

The scout was patched up enough so that their life was not in any immediate danger, but they were put to the question, though luckily none of Utana’s more exotic techniques were required. Smersh,  Fetnah and José were able to establish that many scouts were hunting for the group, and bands totalling 120  bandits were positioned ready to come to them when the group was found.

The group seemed unconcerned, 120 was not many to cover all the territory, and the bandits were keeping most of their forces in their usual places, cowing peasants and securing the strongholds they had infiltrated and taken over.

The scouts were stripped of gear, José taking vambraces and greaves from the fallen scout, Smersh taking the heavy leather jerkin, vambraces, greaves, shoes and cooking gear from the one he had injured. Other supplies, such as their horses, some food (of poor quality, but better than nothing) , arrows and others were taken, notably some herbs that Fetnha took. The injured scout, now bereft of weapons and supplies, they left to fend for themselves.

José turned his tactical mind to the situation. He felt that the bandits, getting desperate to stop word getting out, would commit more of their forces, and their chances might be less. The way home was south west, but that was where they knew the majority of the bandits forces hunting them were.

The group decided to consult the oracular bowl that Utana possessed, Fetnah singing to it, and got this reply

South West is the way you do not want to go
South West is the way you do want to go

The group decided to achieve this apparent paradox by heading south, then cutting west, on the road back to Eshtaband and their employer. Utana took them south by an abandoned road that once served now exhausted mines. Fetnah, riding with Smersh. was looking for the forests of her youth, but here the trees, whilst there, were in groups of no more than a copse, but, as they travelled west, the road went through an actual wood. The group enjoyed the cover, though heedless of potential ambush, they were lucky and reached the edge unmolested.

Peering out, they saw two massive clouds of dust, converging, one from the south, the other from the north that would cut off this road. What to do? Go north or south and try to go around, go forward slowly and quietly and hope that the groups pass and move on, letting them go forward, or race hell for leather and get ahead of them.

They decided to do the latter, swapping riders to give them all the best chance. Fetnah riding with Utana, Farshad with Smersh, and they galloped on, with only minor injuries to Smersh when he fell off that one time. On and on they went, looking over their shoulders as the bandit cavalry approached closer and closer. They crested a rise, and into an armed camp, a line of spearmen facing them, cavalry assembling behind, José spotted the banners of Niralha and raised his agent’s symbol high shouting “Agents of Niralha, Agents of Niralha!”

They were allowed to pass, and intercepted by an officer who took them to the council area of the camp and Harvan. He thanked them for the work they had done, over and above expectation, saving the world again, alerting the magistrate’s officers to the grave situation here. The forces are here to put the region to rights, to restore good order and governance.

Fetnah and Smersh were surprised, when they found Harvan spoke Idarit in a form they understood without gestures and  circumlocutions. Finding out where, or rather, when they had come, HArvan was excited, and invited them into Niralha’s service, as agents like the others. They would be paid, as the others are, well, except Utana, whose servant deals with that.

Meanwhile, he has another task ahead for them, a diplomatic conference is to take place in Eshtaband. A meeting between the powers of Haraxa, Ishtir, Idym and others to discuss the fate of Bardij, so recently stolen by the group away from Idym and the group, the group is to organise it!

And there, for this year, we left it

The group looked at the ladder going up to the floor above and Utana, sticking his spear through his harness, laid his hand ready to go up, the air shimmered and Utana was replaced by a surprised Jalabu. Another shimmer and Arpaesis appeared. Juan José and Farshad quickly filled them in with what had been going on and it was noticed that the ghost child who had been following Arpaesis was not to be seen.

Triggering the light spell on his shield, Utana ascended, finding himself in a disty, cobwebbed empty space with four doors leading out. From how far they had risen up, it was believed that they were near the top. Looking around, Jalabu secided to take the doors clockwise from the south.

The room to the south proved to be some kind of lounge that could be opened to the elements, possibly for sleeping when the nights were hot and humid. The room to the west, a storage room full of rotting boxes and, to the north, a screen. Behind that, Jabu found a frame upon which a body had once been hung, now bones were scattered around and enough cloth fragments to identify the remains as those of the woman found in the bedroom with the adult and two child-sized beds. Farshad, examining the area more closely, found an openable panel, behind which opened up a shaft, with ladders leading down.

The group decided to check out the other rooms first, the first seemingly a servant’s room, but the second and last was locked from the outsid. Opening the pinned bolt revealed a room made into a makeshift bedroom. The were piles of used utensils, a comfort corner and a third corner with two small beds of rags and a chest. Investigating this chest of sad and simple toys, and a bed concealing small, human bones.

The group were aware of two, small, child ghosts, the exact duplicates of the children that they had met outside but these knew that they were dead. They were friebdly enough, but also did not want to be abandoned and seemed upset at the notion, so Farshad suggested bundling the bones, and looking for family grave or crypt.

They went back to the ladder down, uncaring of how the child ghosts might view the remains of the person the group suspected was their mother. As Jalabu hit the bottom of the various ladders to the space at the bottom of the shaft, he became aware of a low, unintelligible, guttural chanting. He became obsessessed with finding the origin of this, leading on, ignoring side passages, having almost to be restrained as they passed the slab covering the tomb where the children, and their mother were meant to be interred.

Jalabu grumbled as José get it uncovered and Arpaesis and Farshad laid the bones in their coffins. The children gave the two one last hug before vanishing from sight. In the hands of each there was suddenly a gem, a bluish white gemstone that Farshad identified as a very rare form of emerald (in that you don’t get blue-white emeralds, which is why it is rare and Farshad knows it). José had a slightly different reaction, his empathic sense gave him feelings of tears and regret, Arpaesis has a niggling feeling that it has an Arcane purpose, but whilst he cannot call it to mind, he knows which works to consult to find out, when he can get to a Library.

Impatient, now that is over, Jalabu leads the group on, again ignoring side passages, coming to some kind of changing room in front of double doors, covered in brass plates depicting, in relief, worshippers bowing before a figure, behind whom was a large version of the five dragon headed woman they have seen in statues and paintings often of late.

Jalabu, confident and eager to prove his skills in the stealthy arts, looked to the door for traps or tricks, he stumbled hard against them, and the doors swung open to reveal a shrine of some kind, four robed people bowing to the shrine with statue version of the relief on the door, Kabbaruk in front of Ilot-nahas in dragon-woman form, treasure scattered in front of them.

Must be a combat, the GM has spent time on a map

Jalabu picked himself up, José stuck with his bow and silvered arrows as the figures turned and intoned

“He is the gate, his knowledge is the path, the key is death, one must die, one must die,

He is the gate, his knowledge is the path, the key is death, one must die, one must die”

The figures, mortal but looking as if they have long been decaying, looked at the newcomers, possibly expectantly?

They repeated their chant and, not being answered, they moved to attack, hissing and claws out. The rearmost figure started creating a spell.

Just as well that Arpaesis cast a spell of protection, as a spell failed on José, arrows flew from jom back at the oncoming horrors. Farshad found his attempts to sneak around the edge of the room failed and, already seriously injured (like a smaller version of José in a way). Jalabu twirled his moustache, realised he usually let Utana take point and thought “By Jove, I think I am the tank!“. He acquitted himself well, fending off two attackers at the cost of fatigue as he moved like a blur, fending off attacks.

Although silvered weapons cut away at the rotting cultists, claws ripped at Farshad and cold infused him, slowing him down. Despite his protection, Arpaesis found the very air solidify and throttle him but, at the cost of an even more battered Farshad, the foes were vanquished.

Then attention was grabbed by the idols, in amongst the treasure were two exquisitely and realistically carved ivories, two mortals exact in every detail. They started to shimmer, and grow, becoming two fully sized mortals. There was a sense of “Dearie me, what now?!” from the battered group then, one of the figures opened their mouth and said “Hello, where am I?” in a very archaic form of Idarit.

And there we left it.

On Twitter, the subject of cheesy 80s movies comes up now and again in UK RPG Twitter, usually Hawk the Slayer or The Sword and the Sorceror. You might see Excalibur mentioned, but it is stars above the other two.

This time I mentioned that the title of the proposed sequel to “The Sword and the Sorceror” was to be “Tales of an Ancient Empire” would make a great title for an RPG. In fact it would make a great title for an RPG I am working on. There is a sort of suspect sequel done 28 years later, so I won’t pinch it, but someone else (Alister Davison @awdscrawl on Twitter) made the mistake of showing mild enthusiasm for the idea, so I spent the weekend writing a simple, un-playtested RPG for handling one shots or small campaigns of 80s Fantasy films.

And here is the PDF of it

Tales from an Ancient Empire – Cover