A note is scribbled in the lefthand margin: “I did not realize then that I ought to have designated this as the FIRST troll battle”.

The trolls, at last, were not moving. The stench of burnt flesh hung heavy in the air, but it was almost (ALMOST) welcome now.

As is now customary, Rigel initiated a search of the (smoldering) bodies. Nothing was found. Sabin flicked a quick detect magic — also nothing. Bored, Rigel inspected the east door. No traps. And opened it.

As luck would have it, there were more trolls. This time, at least, we were positioned a bit more advantageously. That is to say, I was NOT closest to them. Rigel, however, was too close to them for comfort, and managed to get off a single arrow before strategically repositioning herself behind larger bodies.

Having just learned a valuable lesson about trolls and fire, I immediately started another burning sphere. Fireball would have been nice, but the arrangement of bodies in the room made it a little too risky. Were it to detonate prematurely it would not only have harmed the trolls (yay) but the party (boo). While I’m sure the clerics could have fixed it all up, I think I’d rather not have the party fear my use of fire. Especially since I seem to be particularly adept at it! Additionally, while a fireball does more damage over a larger area, having a bit of fire that can move around is particularly handy with trolls, as they seem to very much dislike fire and, well, tend to move around to avoid it. The burning sphere scorched the initial troll pretty well and though he seemed discomforted by it, he did not (yet) move away.

So it was, a few seconds later, I started a second burning sphere under another troll. It is really convenient that these burning spheres are easier spells, as it means I can create more of them (than, say, fireballs) before having to rest. As another troll roared in anger, I was thinking Father totally should have told me more about this fire thing. What else hadn’t he told me about?

I wondered if these trolls were smart enough to know that I was the one creating fire? No matter, I guess, as all the fighters were up front by then, and the clerics in back of them, doing the non-troll version of regeneration.

It didn’t take long at all for us to take out another four trolls. The burning spheres were still going, so we shoved various troll bodies and body parts into them. I don’t think there is any way to make burning troll flesh smell good. Oh! and as we were collecting troll parts, we discovered one troll had not been burned soon enough, as he rose again and went to take a piece of Nolin. Instead, Nolin took him down (again), cut off his head, and ceremoniously put it in the fire. We quickly made sure ALL trolls were decapitated and their heads thoroughly singed. It’s like dealing with germs — must kill them all with fire or it’ll hurt you in the long run.

This room has more of the fungus. I was a bit wary of it, but Kane said it was all native. The trolls may have brought it along as a way of feeling more at home. Eew.

A quick run through all the usual sensors — detect evil (Avia), detect magic (Sabin), and detect everything else (Rigel) yielded nothing. Sabin and Nolin went to the doors in the NE corner of the room, finding they were closed but badly beaten. While they couldn’t be opened, with a little more beating one could be damaged enough to be useless, and we created an opening to the other side of the top of the dam.

Less than 50 feet away was the breach that had been created in the dam. Water roared over it, and the stonework around it looked a bit stressed. Every now and then a good sized stone could be seen cascading to the ground below. It was apparent that the force of the water through this breach was continuing to damage the dam. Looking over the side we could see floodgates far below, but they barely had anything flowing through them. If we opened them, it would not only lower the water level, but lower the chance that the whole dam would give way.

We concluded that the control to the floodgates must be in one of the rooms we had not yet searched, so we returned to the trollhouse (as I’d come to call it) and began carefully opening doors.

We found that in general the dam was in mild disrepair. I don’t know if that was due to the trolls or not, but probably not. It’s just ancient. In one room on the downstream side, a wall in what appeared to be an observation room had crumbled and broken out and the room opened to a dangerous precipice. This, of course, only allowed more weather and elements into the structure. Its mirror on the other side was intact but reeked of mold. However, at the north end of the central room, we finally found what we’d (kind of) been looking for.

Well, yes, we’d been looking for floodgate controls, but if you find an ancient stairway behind a pair of very heavy doors above which was written in Giant a very long time ago: “Below dwells wet papa Grazul”, I mean, that certainly sounds like floodgate controls, doesn’t it?

Well, at the least, it led to the only part of the dam we had not explored, so follow it we did. The stairs went on for hundreds of feet, with landings and turns that made it difficult to keep my bearing. Finally we reached the base of the stairs, where another heavy set of double doors were waiting for us, as well as, presumably, “wet papa Grazul”.

Avia could not detect any presence of evil behind the doors, but warned that if these doors were as strong and massive as the ones upstairs, she may simply not be able to detect evil through them. Rigel confirmed there were no traps, and the doors were slowly pushed open.

What greeted us was a largish room with a pool in the middle. The pool seemed to have floating in it more of the mold we’d seen about, or at least some sort of similar flotsam. Concentrating again, Avia was able to announce that there was one strong source of evil in the pool. It was damp, and puddles were scattered about the stone floor, making footing a little treacherous.

So it seemed likely that wet papa Grazul either had survived a large number of years, or his progeny had, or something worse than any of them had killed him and taken up residence. None of these options sounded particularly encouraging, but if we were looking for encouragement, we’d come to the wrong corner of the world anyway.

And with that thought, wet papa Grazul came to greet us.

Rising out of the water was something that vaguely resembled the trolls upstairs, but clearly was not. It was large, like they were, but built differently. It seemed at home in the water. Half its face looked like it had been clawed away in some battle that it had apparently barely survived. As it approached Avia, still in the pool, it brandished a large military style fork and stabbed at her, wounding her. Sabin jumped forward and returned the attack. And so the effort began to give wet papa Grazul a long wet nap.

Grazul’s ability to disappear beneath the water at times made it difficult to hit him, and wielding the large fork gave him an attack range greater than any of our melee weapons. It meant engaging him in melee was both difficult and dangerous, since none of us felt entering the water was a particularly life-extending maneuver. Like the trolls, he had a vicious bite as well, and I kept half expecting tentacles to rise out of the water and thrash us too (turns out he had none).

His affinity for water made use of a burning sphere problematic, but the large room we were in made it particularly well suited to fireballs going off behind him — and two did. And still, it was nine versus one, and after particularly vicious hits by Avia and Nolin within seconds of each other, it at last lay still. Grazul is dead; long live papa Grazul. We confiscated his fork [520] which we later identified as +1, vicious, and adamantine.

We weren’t sure if there were baby Grazuls waiting to avenge Dad’s death, so we proceeded cautiously. This room had doors to the NE, NW, SW, and SE, as well as double doors to the south. It turns out that the room to the west simply held another pool, and the NW and SW doors both opened to that. There was another room to the east, entered by both the NE and SE doors, but that proved much more interesting.

In that eastern room, in addition to a much smaller pool with stairs leading down to it, there was an amazing model of the dam itself. But more than just a model, there seemed to be some magic employed such that it showed the dam exactly as it was at that moment. No surprise, it strongly radiated magic as well. The model seemed to be accurately reflecting that the floodgates were mostly closed.

Finally we turned our attention to the southern double doors. And here we found a most amazing arrangement. The room was shallow but wide, and at the east and west ends of the room there were inscriptions on the ground, behind two sets of portcullis. Inside one set of inscriptions was a pile of, apparently, ash. Inside the other was a leathery, winged, ugly creature that we all were able to recognize as a demon. It appeared motionless and perhaps dead, but upon detecting our presence, it slowly turned its head and croaked “f r e e m e”.

Instant turmoil in our group. People had some very immediate and very polar reactions to that.

I asked, “How did you get here?” and it replied “s u m m o n e d.
K u r z o c a p t u r e d u s, c u r s e h i m.” It was able to confirm that it was the means to control the floodgates — apparently its life force was used to run the machinery. Ordinarily, the floodgates acted automatically to relieve pressure on the dam, but with the companion demon “used up”, this demon had insufficient power left to run the mechanism.

Nolin pointed out that the floodgates had to be opened. We tried to get the demon to tell us what force was utilized — thinking maybe a lesser restoration performed upon the demon would provide enough power for it to operate the floodgates — but it seemed baffled by our question.

Kane felt we should kill it. It was a demon, and that’s all we needed to know. Some felt it shouldn’t be killed in its current state; Avia, surprisingly, held to the view that doing anything to it in its current state, including using it to control the floodgates, was akin to torturing it and she couldn’t abide that even to a demon. Nolin said he wouldn’t veto any decision but didn’t like the idea of killing it. I argued that it was a demon and while I was not against “healing” it in some way if it would allow the floodgate control to work, we needed to either kill it before we left or be absolutely sure it was not a threat to get loose. Did we need to have demons to make it work? Would one (or two) of us work just as well? Maybe we should kill it now and open the gates later. But then, wouldn’t experimenting on ourselves be akin to torturing ourselves?

And then in one quick motion, Kane announced that he was willing to take action, and stepped into the circle with the ashes. There was a rumble beneath us and the demon screamed horribly before turning to dust like his companion before him. Kane shuddered and paled but did not turn to dust. He was able to stagger from the circle without assistance. [Kane gained a negative level.]

I turned on him immediately for taking matters into his own hands while the group was still discussing what to do. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s done. It worked.” I was angry that he would do that and cause the demon to die before we could question it further and briefly considered a fireball (no, too small an area, collateral damage) then a burning sphere (no, not lethal enough). Sabin shrugged his shoulders. Avia, too, looked angry that he had taken action before the group came to a consensus. In the end, neither of us took action against Kane, but I for one will remember his independent decision and keep a much closer eye on him. We joke about Rigel picking our pockets when we’re not looking, but a member of the group who decides he and only he knows what’s best for the group is not to be trusted.

Returning to the room with the model of the dam, we could now see water pouring from its floodgates. Remembering the size of the lake behind the dam, it was apparent it would still be some time – possibly measured in weeks – before the level of the water went below the level of the breach, but the process had at least begun.

I decided to study the dam model more. It was a fascinating use of magic, and I hoped to learn more about its construction. Kane found that his theory the pools were connected was correct, finding a five foot wide passage between the center pool and the ones to the east and west. Rigel was searching for, you know, hidden stuff when Sabin decided to simply cast “detect secret doors”. While there was nothing in the central chamber, the western one did have a secret door. At the bottom of the pool.

We looked at each other and thought the same thing — what mess could we get ourselves into opening a secret door that was at the bottom of a pool? Derrel figured it couldn’t hurt too bad, so he volunteered to swim down and open it. The door was only about 10 feet down. Although the door was locked, he also found a whole bunch of coins down there. After all was said and done (and later counted), it turns out he brought up 2503 gold coins, 7019 silver coins, and 1257 copper coins (after repeated trips).

As to the locked secret door, Sabin decided it was easier to use our wand of knock than to use our mistress of knock (Rigel) underwater, and when you throw in the likely lack of light behind that door, Sabin with his dark vision was a natural choice. Sabin unlocked the secret door and swam in. Inside the passage behind it, there was another door, also locked. He unlocked that as well, courtesy of the wand of knock. As that door unlocked, the one he’d just come through locked. Clearly they were linked in some way. Running short of air, he unlocked the top door and returned. We concluded that the outer lock might open to the lake behind the dam, and the dual locks prevented the lake from rushing into the dam. We also decided it was not wise to explore the lake from beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Rigel was still searching above the water. She found a loose stone near the base of the south wall. It appeared to be a small cache, which included a gold comb in the shape of a behir with tiny little pearls as eyes [522] and dainty pink gloves [523] which are created such that they never get dirty, always smell faintly of lilacs, and allow the wearer twice a day to do Snatch Arrow (ala the feat).

Our mission was done here, and we discussed what to do next. The dam needed to be guarded against further damage, and ultimately repaired as well. The dam was a bit daunting for the casual visitor to reach, but certainly not inaccessible. Maintaining the fort seemed a key part of this effort, but Jakardos had already indicated he’d like to decline the role of commander and return to a more civil life.

We returned to the fort, briefly, and discussed this with Jakardos. With a glance at his daughter, he offered that his return to civilian life could wait a bit. He too felt that strong leadership at the fort would deter further mischief, but clearly the populace at Turtleback Ferry was going to be busy for some time. Where would the bodies come from?

And thus was concocted the Fear of Flood Recruitment tour. Oh, of course, we didn’t call it that out loud. But Magnimar was clearly relinquishing its role as benefactor for the region, and what better way to find recruits than to visit the towns that would be most affected by a flood from the broken dam?

Ilsurian, Biston, Melfesh, Whistledown — none of these were booming towns but none of them were devoid of skilled labor either. Over the next nine weeks, we made a point of visiting all of them regularly, and given that each of them had a vested interest in not having the dam topple, each was able to supply carpenters, tradesmen, and other skilled labor for free at one to two week intervals. We ourselves arranged to cover for food and basic supplies, and as expected, the occasional emissary looked around, was impressed with life at the fort, and asked about staying. Slowly, the rangers would be replenished by volunteers, and the fort would again become self sufficient. During those nine weeks, most of us were able to find masters of our individual arts and receive additional training that would better prepare us for the dangers ahead. One thing we all agreed on was we needed better ways to communicate silently in the field. We decided to all of us each spend time learning silent field communications.

For we were creating a little empire here, if one were to step back and look at it objectively. Benevolent little rulers, we were, but really we’d just gone to the small towns, pointed at the dam, and said, “Nice town ya got here. Be a shame something happened to it, y’know? Maybe you could throw some people at a problem we’s got.” And did we not hold the deed to that fort still?

I mean, the right thing is happening. I’m not saying that’s wrong. It’s kinda cool. But I’m just saying.

Vale and Jakardos said it would probably take about six months to restaff the fort and choose a suitable leader. It was during this nine-week training period that Shilelu sought us out with a “little problem”. And she presented a 2-ft tall man with butterfly style wings on his back, by the name of Yap. He was agitated, he was distraught, and he was a pixie. And apparently he was looking for Lamatar, the former commander of the fort.

As the group looked at each other, I stepped in to talk. “How can we help you?”

He looked morose and angry at the same time. “Only Lamatar can help my mistress! He lives at this place and I demand to see him.”

I explained that he had died here, defending the place, and so was there anything we could do? Shilelu interrupted and pointed out that while it was very likely he was dead by now, we had not found his body here. The pixie looked hopeful. “So perhaps he is not yet dead? That would make my mistress very happy, and the land would again .. I mean, the grasses and the trees – she would heal them and perhaps she would no longer be sick herself. Really, it would have been better had she died than to be in her current state.”

It was a little fuzzy as to what he was actually telling us, but it seemed pretty clear that his “mistress” was the nymph that had left the boots and the hair, and ..

The boots! A quick whisper to Rigel and she was able to surreptitiously remove them before the pixie could see them. Wouldn’t do to have that complication messing things up. Kane tried to get the pixie to talk more, but he kept mumbling about the land dying and the mistress dying and only Lamatar could help. She had apparently run to him to help when the fort was attacked, but she had arrived too late and returned .. corrupted and twisted, body and soul. We couldn’t get out of him if the illness was magical or physical (or both), but we finally understood an important point.

Yap’s mistress, it seems was not just a random fey companion of Lamatar. She was the princess of the Shimmerglens, resident in Whitewillow, the land near the Wicker Walk. The one we were told not to venture into because they didn’t really care for the non-fey. The land that required the Wicker Walk as a material demarcation between safety and danger. The land that was apparently connected magically to the princess’s physical and mental health.

That one.

Before there was much discussion at all, Jakardos and Vale hastily told us they would see to the security of the fort, and wished us well on our journey. Shilelu smiled a bit (or was that a smirk?), and also wished us well. It seemed we had little to discuss. Father, you rather left out some significant details about the life of a an adventurer.

Since Derrel wouldn’t finish his training until later that week and this all seemed fairly urgent, we equipped ourselves and headed south, back to the marsh near Turtleback Ferry. (Without magic means, we couldn’t have contacted Derrel anyway.) We entered the Wickerwalk, but soon our guide took us off the path. As we walked through the woods, I found them strangely silent. Sometimes a wood can be peaceful and serene, but this seemed more ominous, like it was abandoned. We began to see, here and there, twisted black trees. Despite the decreasing amount of healthy foliage, and increasing numbers of blackened, diseased trees, sunlight seemed to have a hard time penetrating this part of the woods. Myrianna, Yap explained, was a princess of the Shimmerglens but queen of this area. It apparently reflected her condition. He was her servant, and both feared for her now and generally cared for her well being.

We came across a pool of water in a clearing, surrounded by trees. Healthy trees. Was this an oasis in this increasingly broad area of pestilence? Yap stared at it, and announced it had not been here two months ago. Kane remarked that he detected poison on the water. He walked over to the pool and looked at his reflection. He staggered and gasped, and swung around to stare at us, and then back at the water.

We asked him what he was doing, and he replied that when he looked in the pool, he looked perfectly normal but the reflections of the rest of us looked like corpses. I went and looked into the pool and saw nothing unusual, but Kane seemed seriously affected.

The pool was about 15′ across. The horses did not react to it. We shrugged, and marched on.

It was probably another 10 miles into the woods before we came across a most odd artifact. There lay a ship, aground in the middle of the woods. It looked like it had been there a long time, but Yap suggested it too was more recent than its appearance would indicate. It was covered with thick moss. It was curious, but we did not want to dally when our mission was the princess so …

After a couple more miles, the swamp (and there was nothing healthy or vibrant about it anymore) gave way to a clearing. A pool with black twisted trees surrounding it lay in the clearing. Avia detected no evil, and Kane detected no poison in the pool. A detect magic indicated some background magic, but no particular center of magic.

As we walked into the glade, Yap paused expectantly. There was a deafening howl from the center of the water, and a ghostly form rose from the middle of the pool.

“My mistress, Myrianna,” Yap said apologetically.

Her arms appeared ripped off, and I realized that the ghostly form was only such from the waist down. Yet she flew, or hovered, or something.

“You’re all to blame!” she cried. “You stood by and did nothing while the fort was attacked! Just a little more assistance and they ..”

“It was not we,” I interrupted. “We have come to help. We were sent by Magnimar to investigate the silence of the fort. Had we been here we are certainly capable of help and would have. But we arrived too late — as did you, didn’t you?”

She paused, her anger temporarily vented. “Yes. I should have gone sooner.” Her eyes blazed again. “But if you were not responsible, what place do you have here? Do you come to mock me?”

“No! We come to help you. Yap here tells us you are .. er, distressed, and he believes we can help. We offer our assistance. What can we do to help?”

“Help? HELP? They did not even leave his body. There was nothing there. The pain, and the torture, and the desecration … If you want to help, I must have Lamatar’s body, or some portion of his body. Only then can the healing begin.”

Yap interrupted. “You see what I mean. She is -”

“Shut up Yap,” we said. “The surviving rangers too, would find some comfort from finding the body of their leader, and giving it a proper burial. But you’re right — we did not find it, and we don’t know where to look. Do you know where we might find him?”

“Hook Mountain,” she almost spat. “Climb the mountain. Return him to me. Take him from the giants and the ogres and bring him back here. Only then can we be rejoined and the healing take place!”

So, wow. Obsessive much? If you can’t rescue him alive, you need some portion of his dead body near you to rest easy or you’ll destroy everything living for miles around? I suppose, being fey, that she might have some interesting magic at her disposal that would actually benefit him — could she regenerate him from a single body part, like a troll? Sheesh, I hope we’re not really talking parts. They travel easier than a whole body, but it’s really sort of gruesome. “We got two fingers, one leg below the knee, and I’m pretty sure this is an ear. Is that enough?”

Avia did not detect evil initially, but now with this spirit out here maybe she should try again. If Myrianna is now evil, should we do what she says? Can we believe her that with the body she would heal the land, or is it the case that with the body she can finish what she started? On the other hand, we do know they had a relationship, and maybe this is what grief looks like when you’re a princess tied tightly to the earth. And she herself doesn’t exactly look healthy, but I don’t think a healing potion is going to set her right.

Well, I imagine we’re off to the mountain, but we’ll probably want to discuss it. Wait, did she say ogres AND giants? We haven’t actually run into any giants yet. Someone bringing them up again is not good.

Map: dam.pdf

Fireday, Pharast 7

So it was that Tekkad and Kane arrived in town on horseback some hours before we did on foot. In talking with them later, I learned that while there was the understandable confusion and panic, a fair number of villagers had already escaped the rising floodwaters. It was only those who could not move quickly, or could not move at all that were in danger. They set about doing what they could, but the town cathedral/church was about the strongest, safest building left standing so they directed people there for safety.

Their efforts were interrupted by some creature floating downstream that attacked them and, particularly, the church. When they realized what was happening, they tried, panic-stricken, to herd people OUT of the church but the beast was upon them too fast. In trying to drive it from its chosen task, they brought its wrath upon themselves: it rose up before them and cast its foul breath upon them, causing each of them to become confused and disoriented. Tekkad even wounded Kane with his dagger in the midst of his confusion.

The beast seemed to take pleasure in destroying the building and almost nonchalantly, the human souls within it. When all was said and done they still had their lives, but of nearly two dozen villagers, only eight survived. They had to remind themselves that that was likely eight more than would have survived without their efforts.

When we caught up with them and heard their story, I cursed. (Yes Father, I did.) We had seen this creature — a “Black Maga” said some villagers — floating down the river upstream and tried to do battle with it. It largely ignored us, except that my fireball seemed to annoy it a bit and sent one particular tentacle my way as it floated by, stuck it into the shoreline, and then out of the ground up to my leg. Fortunately it wasn’t poisoned, but we were in a hurry and didn’t have time to do more than quickly bind it and keep moving.

I wish we’d killed it, but it seemed impervious to fire and it didn’t seem wise to engage it hand to, er, tentacle. It is on its way to the Mushfens, and eventually Magnimar. Perhaps we will see it again someday. I hope not.

We gathered everyone on some higher ground and set up for the night. The water seems to be receding a bit. It turns out one of those saved was a (the expected) messenger from Magnimar. The message turned out to be: “Thanks for killing the ogres. Can’t spare any soldiers, as war is imminent. But very grateful: here’s the deed to the fort. Bye.”

And who are we going to sell a fort to??? It may be hard to turn this into cash. We’ll have to think this one through. In the meantime, the dam may still be falling to pieces at the hands of giants or ogres; we’ll need to proceed posthaste back whence we came. The townspeople, seeing the water receding, want to stay and rebuild.

The search for horses did eventually find all of our steeds. There was much discussion about the safety (and dryness) of the fort versus the uncertainty of staying in the town.

We’ll all sleep on it.

Starday, Pharast 8

Upon rising, we found the town more resolute than ever at staying. Maylen Schreed, the mayor (and pastor of the destroyed church) strongly favored rebuilding. When we pointed out the flood could get worse if the dam were breached further, he simply smiled and said, “Then go make sure it doesn’t.”

We learned more about the “Black Magga” (as we found it is spelled) from the books of Lamashtu we’d obtained back in Sandpoint. (Or was it from Thistledown? It all seems so far away now.) The Magga was considered “the mother of all oblivions” and “rumored to control the weather”. The relentness rain, which only made the water behind the dam that much higher, may now be explained. It sounds like a fairly powerful creature, possibly untouchable by us, which raises the question of what mission did Lemashtu find this creature was needed for?

In any case, the town is staying behind, and we take off for the fort. With horses now, we proceed at a much faster pace than when we arrived walking.

We briefly swung by where we’d left the bear and the prisoner. Neither was present, but blood near the area suggested there’d been some sort of battle. Oddly, the manacles were released, not broken. Kaven might have been a meal, or might have been rescued. We did not see any bear fur. We continued on to the fort.

Arriving at the fort around midday, we quickly briefed the rangers. Shelelu, Jakardos, and Vale agree to stay at the fort while we, the larger force, continue on the dam at Skull’s Crossing.

As we neared the dam, we saw giant skulls (not necessarily skulls from giants, just Big Representations of Skulls) decorating the dam. There was a treacherous looking path leading up to the left. In the distance, on the top of the dam we could see maybe a half dozen figures moving, but without some frame of reference we couldn’t be sure how big they were or what they were doing. We guessed they were too small to be giants, but then realized nobody here had ever seen a giant. There was a breach on the right side, through which water was still flowing, but not very quickly.

Giants around here, remarked Tekkad, are legendary for coming from Stone, being one with Stone. Great. Not just giants, but giants capable of working stone. Hiding within it even! Of course these are but legends, but usually legends have some basis in fact. All in all, not an encouraging situation.

But forward we moved, for it is in our blood to right wrongs and dispel evil. Philosophically I’m with that line of thinking, but there are times when even I think my judgment might be clouded.

Kane and Rigel silently snuck up the rickety stairs. Tekkad and myself went halfway with them so as to provide fire (heh) in case they were discovered and had to beat a hasty retreat. The stairs seem sized for large creatures (gulp).

The stairway was lined with skulls of many creatures and sizes, but each appeared enscribed with a particular symbol that I presume had some important meaning. From the voices they heard, there seemed to be a few ogres in the cave, although they didn’t actually see any and the stench (and there WAS one) wasn’t particularly similar to the one we’d been hammered with by ogres. The skulls looked fairly recent. They returned with a small one.

Sabin looked at the symbol and remarked that these were fairly traditional warnings … from a troll tribe. Trolls! Nobody signed up for trolls! We quickly reviewed what we knew about trolls.

a) hard to kill. Heal quickly, sometimes visibly. b) fire does real, unfixable damage to them (I did a silent happy dance) c) beheading them can also make sure they stay dead d) big and strong. Then see a) again.

Distance weapons and fire would be our friends. So maybe the odd stench was a troll stench. (Why did there have to be a stench at all? Why couldn’t monsters learn to at least clean themselves like cats?)

We silently entered the cave. Well, mostly silently. I tripped and actually hurt myself pretty bad as I slid down the stairs to the base and got to start all over again. I was quickly healed a bit, but still felt sore and showed various abrasions – it would have to do for now. Sabin led, with his dark vision, and reported that a short ways in there was a 15 foot ledge and something or somethings were up there. Still, there was a faint light source from somewhere, because it wasn’t completely dark in here. There were some handholds, so Sabin took a quick look over the peak.

And was noticed. It seemed to have two heads, was huge, and was munching on something (someone?) when it noticed Sabin peering shyly over the edge of the ledge. It moved surprisingly quickly, but Tekkad hastily cast silence at the roof over the area with the creature. It was a longer than average spell to cast, and before he was finished and it took effect, there was a brief conversation between Sabin and the beast:

Beast: “Humans not enter!” “No take bribe like last time! Got in trouble!”

“That was last time” Sabin quickly countered. “But this is different. If this time, instead, you -” And the silence spell kicked in, much to the confusion of the beast. It paused a moment trying to make sense of it and even tried saying something, but of course nothing could be heard.

The rest of us, used to fighting together, silently came to the same conclusion: this creature needed to come down 15 feet for the fighters to engage it, and all the non-fighters needed to break out their distance weapons. I considered my options and decided the quarters were too close to risk a fireball. Burning hands, maybe, but that might involve me getting a might too close for comfort.

The creature did not seem to be considering Sabin’s partial offer anymore. For his part, he backed down the ladder in the side of the ledge, trying to draw the creature down and incidentally removing him from the silence influence.

The beast dropped a flail, picked up a javelin, and flung it (fortunately, ineffectually). Avia shot an arrow that found its mark, and I tried flaming sphere. Appeared, but seemed to do nothing to it. Fireproof? Hope not. Sabin threw his ax to good effect. Nobody else hit it with anything. It picked up two javelins this time (man, he really needs to clean his cave) and threw them, but they both missed. Phew. But then it made the mistake of descending to our level. Nolin smacked it. Avia smacked it twice. My flaming sphere suddenly seemed to cause it discomfort as it backed away from it, and my magic missiles caused it even more discomfort. Sabin laid in some amazing blows and Nolin finished it off as it laid there bleeding out. The flaming sphere seared the victory.

In a side cavern a dozen feet from the body, we found a treasure hoard. Those bribes? Must have been good. First, there was a pile of gold and silver coins. While Sabin and I identified the rest of the items, the group counted and found 1240 silver pieces and 693 gold pieces. In a velvet pouch there were 6 pearls [500]; we also found a philactory [501] that was empty, an ivory scroll tube with strips of jade on it [502] containing a scroll [503] with cone of cold, hold monster, and telekinesis on it. We discovered if the philactory was worn by a cleric, that cleric would have 2d6 more energy to channel!

Coming out of the cave we found ourselves at the top of the dam, and we could see now a team of ogres working on it — working at tearing it apart. Some of the construction was making it difficult for them, and there seemed to be grumbling at times.

Perfect situation for a fireball. The first one hit five ogres, killing four of them outright. While arrows and other distance weapons peppered the survivor (who barely had time to note his smokiness) a second came sailing in. Two ogres who had turned tail and run were killed, as well as two others. The foreman of the work crew seemed a bit buffer, but the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune sealed his fate.

Nine ogres dead. Nary a scratch on us. Not bad.

Now to find out what was in that central skull tower. A couple of the ogres had tried to get in some doors on one side but were incinerated before they raised any answer. The doors seemed locked and there was a convenient window just 10′ off the ground. Nolin and Sabin thought that was a better way to enter. They got up and then helped everybody else up into a room that, we found, was apparently decorated in hanging green fungus. Those of us from Sandpoint were rather apprehensive of the fungus, given our past adventures, but it turns out it was what was behind the fungus that was of greater concern.

Four trolls. Big ugly creatures that didn’t talk about bribes, didn’t consider counteroffers and which, yes, healed visibly fast. Or so we were to learn.

Due to Tekkad’s and Rigel’s alertness we were not totally surprised by them. But our party was in a suboptimal arrangement (that is, I WAS CLOSEST TO THE TROLLS!) so it took a little dancing and several blows before we got the magic folks behind the beefy folks and assumed the usual position. By this time, everybody was too tight for a fireball, but a few burning spheres got the flame into it.

The battle took a surprisingly short period of time, but at least once a severed head rejoined its missing body, healed, and rejoined the battle. Nobody found themselves near death, but then most people took some injury as well. Nothing the clerics couldn’t handle; we did a good job as a team. So the lesson learned was that you cut off their heads AND burn them. Their danger lies not so much in the damage per attack, as the fact that they heal so fast there’s the potential to get a lot of attacks. Get the fighters up front, keep healing them, and keep the fire coming.

In a way, I like these trolls. They make me a bit more valuable 🙂 If these were the “giants” we feared (they ARE rather big) then I think we’ll be okay.

Moonday, Pharast 3

After dispatching the ogre in the altar room, we turned our attention south. Our favorite evil radar, Avia, had located the strongest evil on this floor and we set ourselves up to go after it. In a coordinated move, Kane threw open the door as our strongest fighters strode in, prepared to dismember whatever they ran into.

It should be no surprise that we were expected. Despite the area of silence we’d been operating in, I’d be surprised if after all we’d done in the fort we were able to surprise any experienced foe. And sure enough, the three ogres we found here seemed prepared. Two brandished swords, while the third appeared to be a magic user of some sort (and female).

A brief glance around the room revealed a well-appointed room with longswords on the wall. I hung back by the door. I’ve been finding of late that my hand-to-hand combat seems far less effective than my range attacks. For some odd reason, fireball and magic missile seems to be far more successful for me these days than beating them with a stick. Sorry, quarterstick. I think the biggest obstacle I’ve found is that the closer I get to these opponents, the easier it is for them to kill me. When I see Father again, I’ll have to ask him to show me ALL the skills he has acquired. I wonder if I’m already more skilled than he was. Isn’t it every boy’s dream, to do better than his father?

Anyway, the battle was lengthy. 7 on 3 is an uneven battle, but against these foes, it wasn’t all THAT uneven. With all the friendly people in the room, it was difficult to choose a place for my fireball that wouldn’t also scorch the friendlies. I think Tekkad may have cast dispel magic on the apparent mage, which seemed to startle her (and make her appear less fuzzy.) I shot off some magic missiles until the right moment, when a carefully placed fireball seared two of the ogres. When one of them closed on me, fireball was still not an option, but burning hands managed to nudge them into the world of the dead on the first try.

The fireballs are effective, but I must keep in mind two things. First, they do not avoid my friends. I must avoid my friends. And second is that it’s easy to forget I have a limited number of them. We’ve been encountering so many enemies that it would be easy to run out of them if I don’t keep my wits about me as I fight.

We quickly searched the bodies with a detect magic and found the most interesting stuff on the mage (of course). An amulet, a cloak, and a wand all appeared to be magical and were hastily snatched up so that they could be identified later. On to the next room.

Avia confirmed there was still evil there. We positioned ourselves and again stormed the room. The two ogres here were admiring their gruesome handiwork, which involved releasing the blood of two of the rangers that was hung grotesquely from the ceiling. These two again seemed to be fairly tough, taking a lot of hits (and burns) before succumbing to our persuasive gestures and falling dead to the floor. In fact, in the intial flurry, Avia was grievously injured and fell, but quick action by our healers and a flurry of blows from our other fighters allowed her to regain her feet and rejoin the battle.

The rangers, almost thankfully, were dead but we released their desecrated bodies. We now had time to fully identify the things we’d found.

[279] +1 ogre hook, humanbane
[280] potion, cure serious wounds
[281] bracers of armor, +2
[282] belt of giant ST, +4
[283] masterwork longbow
[284] +1 ogre hook
[285] +1 ogre hook
[286] potion, cure moderate wounds
[287] potion, cure moderate wounds (which I took custody of)
[288] +1 hide shirt
[289] +1 hide shirt
[290] wand of acid arrow [43] (which I took custody of)
[291] amulet of natural armor +2 (which Kane took)
[292] cloak of charisma, +2 (which I took custody of)

Rigel found a secret passage to a map room, and Sabin and Tekkad found themselves fascinated by the scribblings. Turning her talents to another room, she found a few items in a secret drawer in the well-appointed room:

[295] Poetry written to “Miriana”
[296] small jewelry box
[297] locket with a lock of hair “for my Lamatar”
[298] soft green leather boots

We determined that the lock of hair was not human — probably nymph — and that the leather boots were enchanted: they give the wearer the ability to walk on water in a swamp (water no more than 5′ deep). The wearer is protected against rain and has a +2 save vs poison and disease. Rigel took these.

We discussed what to do next. We believed the inner fortress to now be clear of ogres, but that would change once they discovered what we’d done. We didn’t know if the ogres had reinforcements at their disposal, but we’d rather not find out.

It was decided that there was two strategies that might work. One would be to lure them in one or two at a time and kill them — we knew we could do that with our group. The other would be if we could find a way to put them in the same area, a fireball or two might save us a lot of work.

Rigel and I positioned ourselves in the central tower where we could see out into the courtyard. Sabin borrowed the hat of disguise to appear as Lucretia again and lure 3 ogres inside. We did successfully lure them inside, and we did successfully dispatch them without too much damage, when Rigel and I noticed something very very interesting. There appeared to be a bunch of ogres congregating around the ogre equivalent of a lunch wagon. A “cook” seemed to be working over a fire and others were milling around nearby.

Knowing I might be out of communcation range, I’d been given the latitude to throw a fireball if it seemed prudent. It now seemed prudent.

I aimed it so it almost looked like it might have been an accident. The fireball exploded near the grill, so some ogres blamed the cook and started beating on him. Some ran into a disgusting puddle of water nearby. Still others started beating on the companion next to him, thinking, I guess, that it was some sort of careless ogre fart too close to flame.

Well that made the second fireball all the more effective. After two fireballs in a row, nearly fifteen ogres lay dead, several others were severely burned, and confusion reigned among the remaining five or six. But not for long. Their resolve was united when, after two mysterious fire attacks, I caused the image of a smallish red dragon to fly down and land in the courtyard. Given my family lineage, I was more than familiar with the form one would take, and I silently thanked the party for giving me all the wands .. one of which was a wand of silent image.

Seeing this, the remaining ogres were uniform in their desire to vacate the fort. Posthaste. I don’t know if any of them had ever actually seen a red dragon, but my guess was that they’d all at least heard stories of them. I’d not heard ogres scream before, but I think that was the sound they were making. They left in a great hurry, tripping over each other in their haste to save their blistering skins. And perhaps a new legend started that day, to be passed down from papa ogre to grotesque little ogrekin, of the human fortress which is guarded by a vengeful red dragon. If it makes them all the more reluctant to attack the fort in the future, I’m all for it.

The fort was deserted. We’d won. But it didn’t feel like it.

So much destruction. So much carnage. So much death. A few scant weeks ago, this was a bustling place of safety and protection. Now …

We discussed things with the rangers and realized that the only way to hold the fort was to wait for the reinforcements from Magnimar. Too many defenses were destroyed, and too many ogres remained alive, somewhere, for only the three rangers to be able to hold the fort.

And Tekkad still expressed concern about the dam. The rain was relentless, and the reservoir might be near full. It it were to give way (or be destroyed) now, it would cause significant damage downstream. We decided to rest overnight, and then send Jakardos and Vale, who knew the area best, out to scout it out.

Toilday, Pharast 4

Jakardos and Vale left, and we set about repairing the fort. Tekkad in particular is putting glyphs of warding about with, I trust, suitable restrictions about their going off around us! Bodies are being laid to rest; there is much to do.

Wealday, Pharast 5

Waiting for word, and continuing repairs. And wards.

Oathday, Pharast 6

I know they are rangers, and used to scouting, but, um, if they get caught how will we know?

Sigh. More wards. More repairs. Boring.

Fireday, Pharast 7

At last! They return! Maybe now we can leave.

Hmm. Well as luck would have it, we MUST leave. Yes, the dam was under attack by both giants and ogres and as they left, they’d opened a breach. It will only get bigger, and it will affect the towns downstream quickly.

In fact, it was about this time that a messenger from Turtleback arrived and announced just that: “The water is rising! We’ll be underwater by morning!”

Go to town and help? or go to dam and fix? Are we up to defeating giants? Seems we keep upping the ante; first ogrekin, then ogres. Now giants?

The group decided to go help the town (wisely, I think.) Tekkad will go on horseback and Kane will go along (due to his size it won’t really affect the horse). The rest of us will proceed at best speed, but perhaps the healer will be needed before the rest of us. I hope that their getting there sooner doesn’t simply mean they drown sooner.

Living near the sea, I’d learned some rudimentary strokes. Perhaps my swimming skill will be tested soon.

Moonday, Pharast 3

After some discussion, it was decided that we should hide Lucretia’s body in the apparently unused secret passages while we rested. It was tempting to move forward after this invigorating victory, but the truth was, many of our spells and weapons had been used up getting this far. Prudence suggested we rest and regain our spells, sharpen our weapons, and carefully plan our next move. While taking out Lucretia this early in the campaign was an unexpected bonus, we could still not afford to be careless.

From her lifeless (and, to be certain, headless) body we took

a wand of scorching ray (22 charges) [270]
a +1 keen rapier [271]
another sihedron medallion [272] that conveys upon its wearer:

+1 resistance to all saving throws
ability to invoke false life once per day, and
preserve body if placed on a dead person (per gentle repose)

masterwork dagger [273]

There was also (unfortunately) ashes of paper (maps? scrolls? thanks to the power of fireball, we’ll never know) and some corked wine.

Still being relatively rested, we were determined to find out how overrun the fort truly was. With Lucretia defeated, we “only” had to clear the fort of ogres to declare victory. Jakardos estimated a group our size might be able to handle as many as three ogres at one time, but much more than that would overwhelm us. We needed to choose our battles carefully.

The room immediately adjoining ours was determined to be cells. Judging from the fresh blood, recently used too. But given how well they knew the fort, Jakardos and Vale convinced us we could gain much more information about the state of the world if they were to go do reconnaisance for a half hour.

True to their word, thirty minutes later they returned to tell us there did not appear to be guards in the towers. No real surprise there, as we don’t think the ogres could fit in the stairwells leading to the sentry positions. In general, although yes, there were ogres (real ogres, not ogrekin) about the fort, they were not in a state of readiness, and Lucretia’s death (and the battle that caused it) had not yet been noted. About a half dozen ogres vaguely resembled a patrol outside, and Jakardos and Vale agreed that there were probably many more housed inside, in the barracks or mess hall.

While fighting in darkness offered us no particular advantage (indeed, at least one among us said the ogres could see better in the night than we) the ogres were still diurnal, and more of them would be resting now than in the morning. It was decided we would see if we could clear out a few ogres. Quietly. Sneakily. Methodically. Leave no ogres behind us, then retreat to our known safe area (Lucretia’s former room) without leaving a trail.

Jakardos, Vale, and Shelelu were going to secure the front gate (if it could still be secured) to prevent outside ogres from coming in. A quiet, ten minute inspection revealed it would not be secure again anytime soon. The battle for the fort had damaged it beyond use.

Shelelu manned the near tower, while Jakardos and Vale were to man the more distant towers. They could alert us if an alarm roused significant numbers of ogres out in the courtyard or beyond. And off we went, hunting big game.

We were not disappointed. Although the first room was an uninhabited library (although trashed), the next room seemed to be an infirmary. However, a corpse there had been posed in a manner that suggested it was eating its own entrails. From the corner came some snoring. Sabin tried to sneak up on it, but failing that, he instead engaged it in battle. It was quickly dispatched as Nolin and Darrell assisted.

The next room we checked seemed to have been the kitchen. Destroyed, like the other rooms thus far. It hadn’t really been used .. just trashed.

The next rooms we searched seemed to have been bedrooms but were also trashed, and empty.

Finally we reached a set of double doors. Avia informed us there was 5 to 6 sources of evil on the other side .. too many for us to safely handle at once. We would return to this door later.

Avia sensed one evil entity behind another door, and two behind yet another. Sabin again tried stealth. No go. Nolin joined him and the two of them shut the door (to keep the noise inside).

About this same time, I had a cool idea. I used the hat of disguise to appear as Lucretia (in her human form). Even though I could not speak Ogre, I expected that the ogres would recognize her figure and if she’d curried the reputation I expect she had, they would try very hard to please her even if she spoke common.

Meanwhile, Nolin and Sabin made sounds of battle in the room with the one ogre. The two of them were apparently having some difficulty dispatching him.

Darrell and Avia positioned themselves on either side of the door to the room with two ogres in it. Before they could move to enter, the door burst open, and an ogre wearing human armor (hint: it didn’t fit well) stumbled out. It looked surprised, but then it found itself unable to move as Tekkad’s hold spell took effect. That one was easily dispatched by Darrell (once the initial shock of it all dissipated), but the second ogre emerged in time to see its companion eviscerated. It yelled loudly, and the element of surprise was lost. There was some distant commotion in the room we believed to be the barracks, and it became critical to dispatch these ogres quickly. The one that Nolin and Sabin were fighting met its maker about then, and while the one before Avia and Darrell was not held or restricted in any way, it still faced a handicap in the form of an angry paladin. It too died obligingly.

Tekkad quickly ran over to the double doors we’d inspected before, and using another spell, pulled up some of the floor to act as a barrier, preventing the doors from opening. I, still disguised as Lucretia, positioned myself at the doors at the other end of the room. I was hoping to get the ogres inside to stay inside long enough to let a fireball be effective, and I thought the appearance of Lucretia might be enough. And it worked, sort of.

As the first ogre came out, I yelled, halt! My grand plan might have worked, but for the fact that Darrell came up and attacked the mildly confused ogre before I could launch my fireball. The ogre promptly pushed me behind him and started to fight this “new menace” while protecting me. Doing so made my shot into the barracks unavailable. Sigh. I backed into the closet so that I was disengaged from the ogre. Before he was killed, however, we heard a massive thundering of the south wall of the barracks. Apparently the other ogres inside were impatient, and beginning to break down the wall. Things were quickly getting out of hand.

However about this time my protector ogre fell … and that allowed me clear passage to shoot a fireball into the barracks. About the same time, the south wall gave way and three ogres confronted our fighters in the hallway, with more still within the room. However, a second fireball and a couple of solid hits by our fighters finished off all the ogres.

And as near as we can tell, it had all happened quietly enough, in ogre terms, that no reinforcements were coming. Avia could detect some strong sources of evil upstairs, but by this time we were low on spells, strength, and stamina. We tried leaving bloody ogre handprints on the wall, as Jakardos told us that was the calling sign of a rival band of ogres and we thought that might make sow dissension among the ogres.

Useful stuff we found:

potion of cure moderate wounds [274]
a +1 hide shirt [275]
a +1 ogre hook [276]
a composite long bow [277]; big, maybe masterwork. 24ST to use.
20 arrows [278]

We quietly made our way back to our safeplace, recalled our watchtower people, set some guards, and recovered.

When we awoke, it was mid morning and there’d been no incidents. However, there were roving ogre guards investigating the carnage we’d created the night before. Sabin said they were complaining about “man stink” which means our efforts to make it appear the work of a rival clan had gone for naught.

Our goal this morning would be to go after the sources of evil that Avia detected upstairs. Before we could make much progress on that goal, our scouts ran into one three ogre team that, fortunately, thought they had easy pickings on their mighty mitts and did not raise an alarm but instead pursued “the food” for themselves. The scouts led them right back to us where we dispatched them fairly quickly. Tekkad was becoming adept at casting hold on the creatures, which made several of the battles much simpler.

We hid the bodies, and quietly headed upstairs.

The first room we checked had an ogre quietly humming to himself .. most unbecoming of an ogre. He apparently was happily desecrating an altar. The walls in the chapel were covered by many many .. antlers I guess. Bits of flesh still hung from many of the antlers. Tekkad cast a silence spell, but I fear in hindsight it may only hinder ourselves. The ogre seemed unconcerned when we presented ourselves, and we soon found out why. He or one of his belongings seemed to confer upon him a berserker ability that made him quite dangerous.

Nevertheless we were able to overcome him. Jakardos took a significant wound in the fighting, but has been partially healed. We found

[279] hook
[280] 2 potions
[281] bracers
[282] belt

but will have to identify them later. We are preparing now to assault another room.

28 Calastril (still)

Jakardos, it seems, is Shelelu’s stepfather. He left when she was young, and it seems they have some issues to resolve. However, finding his stepdaughter seems, to me, to have lightened his step a bit.

However, Jakardos wants to retake the fort. I can understand the sentiment, but do we have enough people? (If we don’t, are there any other qualified peoples near enough to help?)

In any case, first things first. This farmhouse and homestead may have once been home to a hopeful, thriving family, but now it’s just … infested. We set it to fire in an attempt to destroy any physical indication of its presence. While the bonfire raged, Jakardos told us of the attack on the fort.

It was known among the rangers that ogres were about. A small clan called the Kreegs was known to live near the fort, and was the source of occasional skirmishes. They were just that — skirmishes — and never developed into full blown assaults. However, one day they noticed plumes of smoke from their area, like they were working on something. A scouting party of three was sent out … and never returned.

Fort Rannick was staffed with about two dozen rangers, so losing three was significant but not crippling. Patrols were increased and –

At this point, Kaven got upset and impatient with Jakardos, complaining that all these details were neither pertinent nor important. The ogres attacked in numbers, he said, and overthrew the defenses. The patrol that he and Jakardos and Vale were on had six rangers for safety, but perhaps in hindsight that just left the fort undermanned. “Well maybe,” replied Jakardos, “but we were delayed. Had we not needed to go back to town -” “Not this again!” exclaimed Kaven. “We had to! The captain of the guard had asked me to pick up the weapons! Curse him for the request now, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him we’d decided that doing so would just take too much time!”

Clearly there was some friction here. It seemed there may even be more information here.

Tekkad and I volunteered to gently interrogate Kaven some more. Tekkad talked to him a bit during the day, learning more of his background like why he joined the rangers (5 year service or jail owing to some repeatedly reckless rowdiness) Then in the evening, we used my age (close to his but a little younger) as a pretense for my hanging out with him at the pub. With Sabin ready to detect thoughts, I began a conversation which eventually turned to events surrounding the situation at the fort. It seems that Kaven was much more of a regular at the Paradise boat than he’d previously revealed, and was particularly taken with the proprietor of the boat, a woman named Lucretia. Even though the ship burned several weeks ago, Kaven had been in touch with her since then, and she’d asked a few “favors” of him. The biggest one was to learn more about the makeup and defenses of the fort, the better (we presume) to plan the attack.

He was actually supposed to be back in time for the attack to meet with her, but he decided it might be better not to be there when arrows and swords and magic were being tossed about. It’s not clear whether his treasonous revelation of fort defenses or his cowardly diversion to avoid getting back in time was more responsible for the deaths of his comrades, but he seemed to think little of it. He very much was concerned with himself and asked me to put in a good word with “our leader” about possibly joining our group himself.

With Tekkad occasionally interrupting with quiet statements about having found someone who knew about the attack and the conspirators, Kaven became very concerned about meeting this person and “learning the truth” himself. Sadly, for him, we had made sure Jakardos was listening nearby, so when our “conspirator” — actually Derrel, using my hat of diguise — got the conversation going, Jakardos was there to hear Kaven’s self incriminating statements.

He was immediately placed in shackles by an angry Jakardos. While Kaven seemed concerned about his immediate future, he did not seem to express the same concern about his fallen comrades. He seemed to feel he was owed a good and comfortable life, but his actions had earned him neither. I got the sense I was about to witness some “frontier justice” but for now, he was just jailed.

The fort is 4-5 hours away riding, but while riding will get us there quicker, it will also be noisier. Tomorrow, we will leave on foot.

1 Pharast

We are bringing Kaven along in shackles; I’m not sure why. It seems to me he would be nothing but a risk.

As we set up camp about dusk, a whistle was heard. Vale responded with a shrill of his own, and a messenger stepped out of the woods. Apparently our message to Magnimar had been expedited, and a response sent similarly. The messenger reported that Magnimar wanted us to scout out the situation. “If you retake the fort,” said the message, “Magnimar will be greatful.”

That sounds like more reward money to me!

2 Pharast

Jakardos was prepared, I think, to execute Kaven in these woods and leave his body, but a couple of the religious people in our group believed he deserved a chance at redemption rather than death. I know I was friendly to him in my talk and all but really – would you want this guy at your back? I don’t see how he can be trusted again after this major major moral breakdown. But Jakardos eventually yielded with an idea that still carried some punishment — he would be chained to a tree here, off the beaten path, and guarded by the bear. If we died, he would too, probably, but much more slowly. If we found a chance for him to redeem himself, we’d come back to get him.

There supposedly was an entrance to one of the secret passages to the inside of the fort behind the waterfall at one end. However, there were ogres patrolling, and a storm was raging and we thought a flash of lightning might well highlight us at an inopportune moment. So we waited an hour or two for the storm to subside, and then made our move.

Behind the waterfalls was a latticework of wet boards, which almost proved our undoing barely as our mission began. Fortunately, nobody fell, but we proceeded cautiously.

We surprised two modest sized lizards that seemed to be blocking our way. Before Jakardos could adequately warn us, we attacked them — and they apparently quite capable of harnessing and projecting static electricity in large bolts. Six of our parties took significant damage from the electrical discharge as Jakardos belatedly told us not to bother the “shocker lizards”. Yeah. Good advice.

We found ourselves in the fort’s secret armory. Since Jakardos seemed as surprised as we were, we asked him if this had been created since the takeover. He shrugged his shoulders and admitted he didn’t really know WHAT was in the tunnels, as he’d never been in them before.

In the armory we did find [267] six arrows, shocking burst, +2

But. Interesting. No guide. Hmm.

We came to a point where there appeared to be a dead end, but sharp-eyed Rigel was able to find a lever that opened a secret door. This seemed to lead into a crypt area, and, why, sure enough, a spectre emerged to attack us. Jakardos took a “hit” from it that seemed to weaken him greatly, but we did manage to kill it nevertheless after a while.

We followed several other passage for a while, and at one point Tekkad cast silence over an opening that appeared to go outside, and indeed it did. It was a way into a courtyard, at least, but we’d heard tales of tunnels that went under the fort, so we redoubled our search efforts.

Finally, we were rewarded — Rigel found a secret door and upon opening it safely and quietly we found we were looking into a room from behind a tapestry. There was exotic incense and a red-hued light. A wall of red silk blocked our way, although it was easily lifted if we wished.

Doing so we saw a beautiful lady in the room. Now all this time I’d been unable to fire off a fireball because it would have been to dangerous to my friends, but now they turned to me and quietly signalled that the time was right for an explosion of fire. Quietly I mumbled the words and made the gestures and … whooosh, the whole room seemed to catch on fire. Kane blessed everyone and the fight was on.

First Nolin, then Sabin, and eventually everyone ran into the room. The lady, which we suspected to be Lucretia from previous descriptions, branded us “brigands” and “evil doers” before reverting herself to her more natural state — half snake, half human. My contribution to the battle was magic missiles, which seemed to be more likely to do damage of some sort than many of the weapons that my companions carried.

Eventually, she was defeated, but it took a surprising amount of effort on our part. She tried to escape out the door, but we followed her and took her down in the hallway at the top of the stairs. Yeah, I know, I’m winded too, running stair drills. But on the plus side, resting and wheezing give me time to write this all up.

Moonday, 20 Abadius

The service for Olithar is done, and the freshness of his death is beginning to fade a bit. I realized I could do with a bit more training during this apparent lull of lawlessness. I gave 225 gp to Sabin to make me scrolls of see invisible, make invisible, and spider climb while I went to do training.

Although my efforts took about four weeks this time, I am able to spend evenings away from the labs and the specially constructed rooms, and be with the group of people who, I now readily admit, I call friends. It was during these times that we also have come to know a man who, at first, seemed to be watching us. Upon talking with him, it seems it was more a matter of looking for an opportunity to meet with us. The pub provided both.

Takkad, it seems, also has a score to settle with Xaneesha, or at least her followers. He was a member of another band of mercenaries trying to prevent the murders in the city, and he saw many of his friends die. I think he’s out for revenge, yet he seems so calm and measured. “He was always such a quiet man.” On the other hand, he does seem skilled in the healing arts, and we do seem to be a troupe who excels in bloodying themselves.

Upon completion of my training, I also will know two new spells: fireball (in a way, replacing our lost Olithar’s skill) and disrupt undead, a rather low level spell which nevertheless might be able to slowly destroy an undead creature.

Toilday, 11 Calastril

The Mayor called us together to thank us again, and oh, by the way, now that we’ve proven ourselves capable of large difficult tasks, would it be any trouble to take on this one rather small task as, you know, a special favor?

Seems there’s this band of rangers to the east that have been affiliated with Magnimar in the past. They help protect a town over there … Turtleback Ferry. They’d had a little trouble with ogres and the like, but the order of the Black Arrows had helped keep things on an even keel. Except, they haven’t been heard from for a while now. Could we please go see if they were okay? Here’s 300 gold, each. If there’s any trouble, I’m sure you’ll do fine.

Well, this isn’t an afternoon type of thing. This is probably a week and a half to two week journey. That’s just getting there! We’ll be taking a little time to collect items, plus my training isn’t quite done yet.

We’ve decided on several expenditures — horses for all, suitable for light combat, at about 110gp each, and the party is buying an actual bag of holding (type I). I myself decided to acquire a handy haversack. It’s only 5 lbs but is like a bag of holding in that it can carry much more.

Wealday, 12 Calistril

According to the rest of the group, Shalelu approached them today and asked to come along. Rigel gave her a steely eye but her spirits seemed to improve when she learned that the bard Sedgwick had mysteriously disappeared. We’ve unanimously agreed she would be useful to have along, especially since she mentioned she’s familiar with the route to Turtleback Ferry.

Toilday, 18 Calastril

We’re estimating an 8-10 day journey to Turtleback Ferry. We’ll go by way of Nybor (about 3 days distant) which we are told is roughly the size of Sandpoint.

Oathday, 20 Calastril

Arrived at Nybor, about on time. It’s what we were told it would be, except the inns are more pleasant than what I expected.

From here, the Old Sanos Trail leads along the foothills of the Malgorian Mountains. Legend has it that the trail moves if you wish ill to gnomes. It’s funny the superstitions that different areas of the land develop!

Starday, 22 Calastril

Well, Tekkad has already proven his worth! At watch last night he noticed a giant snake trying to make Nolin be a meal rather than a fighter. It was ultimately dispatched, and it will serve as food and maybe trading fodder at the next trading post.

We’re estimating 5 days to Bitter Hollow. Shalelu says we’ll cross the “wicker way” which resembles a boardwalk over what would otherwise be a very marshy trail.

Oathday, 27 Calastril

Again, we made good time and did indeed reach Bitter Hollow in 5 days. Shalelu carefully describes Bitter Hollow as “less civilized” than Turtleback Ferry, and it does seem much more of a frontier town. There’s maybe 50 people or so who seem to reside in or near this town. The Gator’s Nest is the local trading post, and we hastily traded some supplies for our snake meat.

We got to Turtleback Ferry about an hour before dark. The Turtle’s Parlor is the only inn in town, so we set up accomodations and headed to the common room.

We started asking about the rangers, and learned that no rangers had come to town for supplies for several weeks, which was unusual.

Fireday, 28 Calastril

As the innkeeper went about his tasks today, I noticed an odd but significant tattoo on his back. It was a sihedron. When I asked him about it, though, he got angry and denied it was there .. which was odd because I’m sure I saw it.

Eventually he was able to tell us that it indicated he was a regular customer of the Paradise, which was a large boat that offered entertainment like gambling and ladies-for-rent. However, a few weeks ago, the entire boat caught on fire and sank to the bottom of Claybottom Lake, taking a number of customers and presumably the proprietor, an attractive lady, with it.

The same timeframe that the rangers stopped checking in. Coincidence? Maybe.

They never found the boat. It was out in the middle of the lake when it caught on fire. It would come into shore to pick up customers, and then head out to the middle for the evening. Nobody went looking for it because the lake has some serious predators residing in it.

We’ve decided to head north to the Fort and see if we can get to the bottom of this.

Later, 28 Calastril

Never did make it to the fort, but we were seriously distracted.

We had not gone far when Kane and Rigel heard the cries of an animal in pain. Not too far off the trail there was a bear in a trap. Rigel thought this was not a normal bear, and I must admit, I’d have expected a trapped animal to be angry, and it almost seemed to be whimpering. Tekkad healed it, and as Rigel manipulated the lock to release it, we heard the sound of dogs baying in the distance, and getting closer. When released, the bear didn’t run away, and didn’t attack her. It thanked her with big wet sloppy tongue kisses before turning to growl in the direction of the approaching dogs.

We decided to defend the bear.

I pulled out my disguise hat and willed it to make me look more like a hunter. Kane took to a tree. When the dogs burst upon the scene, it was obvious they were trained hunting dogs. They sized up the situation and immediately moved to surround us, although the did look a little hesitant at the size of our party (plus the bear!).

They were quickly dispatched. But interestingly, I tried to give the bear some commands, and he seemed to understand me a little. Clearly this bear was no ordinary bear.

While the fighters were having no trouble with the dogs, I ran in the direction they’d come from. Trained dogs don’t usually hunt alone. And sure enough, trying to keep up with the dogs was coming an ogre! Well, smallish one. And, as it turned out, youngish one.

Also, it really wasn’t a true ogre; those things are huge. But it was some sort of ogre/human cross, called an ogrekin, and appeared to be the mental age of about 5-7 human years old. And it seemed to respond well when treated like a young child too. Rukus, as we found it’s name was, willingly handed over its weapon, and gave us some information about its family before, ultimately, we killed the abomination. We discovered its blanket seemed to be made from a collection of Black Arrow emblems. This did not bode well.

One of the pieces of information he’d provided was that they had captured (and eaten, ugh) humans — given the patches, the rangers from the fort would be a first choice, each of us thought. But it seemed there might be several more ogrekin there, and we weren’t sure how many of those we could handle at one time. Even this young one was amazingly strong.

Avia and Rigel scouted ahead a bit and almost literally stumbled over another ogrekin about Rukus’ size. They managed to dispatch it, but Avia came back with some good bruises and bloody parts.

We retrieved

[244] a +1 ogre hook
[245] A ring of protection +1
[246] A amulet of natural armor, +1
[247] spear, +1
[248] Belt of +2 strength

So it was we decided to call on Mammy and Pappy Ogrekin. We approached a small, previously abandoned homestead. The two prominent features wer a farmhouse on the left, and a barn on the right. Everyone decided to go to the farmhouse.

Although we are usually pretty careful about traps, I’m thinking that the familiar setting of a rural home lulled us into a sense of false security. Avia detected no evil, but we failed to check for traps. Just as you might think, when Sabin opened the door he was hit by a couple of traps. First he got stabbed in the face by a hidden part of a wind chime, then attacked from beneath by large steel tines that came up through the floor boards. Not a pretty sight. Healers jumped to Sabin’s and Avia’s wounds.

Then we noticed the Really Bad Smell. But before investigating it too much, we did check for traps. And found a couple. It was easy enough to disarm them, but I don’t think we’ll make the mistake of not checking again.

Avia detected evil to our left, and since a corridor led that way, we went with the paladin’s senses. We opened the door at the end of the corridor, only to find ogrekin that we later identified as Mammy (who complained a lot), Benk, Kunkal, and Hodge.

The last three, judging from their pale pallor, were undead. If killing ogrekin was so hard, what would we do with undead ogrekin?

No matter, the battle was joined and all pitched in. The big fat sloppy ogrekin that was sitting on the bed, stretching it to the limits, was apparently a magic user. But our own magic users were able to cast an enfeeblement spell on her that made her stupid, meaning she forgot a lot of her spells, and at that point we had her. Rigel did some amazing stuff with her arrows again, and soon their bodies were spread on the floor.

My new disrupt dead spell came extremely handy. We eventually killed all 4, and retrieved from the rubbery folds of Mammys fat abdomen

[249] Masterwork quarterstaff
[250] potion (cure light wounds)
[251] scroll (animate dead)
[252] wand of magic missile (caster level 3) [43]
[253] wand of enfeeblement [27]
[254] wand of vampiric touch [33]
[255] belt of mighty constitution (+2)
[256,257] two Varisian dolls

We’ve the rest of the house to search, yet, and the barn of course. I hope we’re not too late for the majority of the rangers.

Moonday, 6 Abadius

In the end, my hearing was not faulty.  I did hear “spider climb” and I did hear ropes, and I did indeed hear “long way to fall”.  So we’re going to ascend the tower, from the outside, during broad daylight, with the crowd watching.

So Father, if you’re reading this between blood spattered pages, please do thank the person who brought you this journal and ask them if they know what became of my body.

For the first time I can remember — and perhaps it’s because this is such a public endeavour — I do feel apprehension.  You never mentioned this, Father, but perhaps it’s natural not to admit to your son that there will be times when you are scared but can’t do anything about it.

There is a shy but attractive girl in the gathering crowd that I saw at the market when I was picking up rope, and since I don’t believe we’re ready for this ascent just yet, I think I’ll go talk with her a bit as a bit of pleasant distraction.

Moonday, 6 Abadius

How prophetic my feeling was.  How profoundly prophetic.  All hail Trask the prophet, and then curse him for having blurry vision and not seeing the true target of misfortune.

Right after Avia rudely broke into my conversation with the girl, just as she was about to tell me more about where she lived and a bit more about the area, and had offered to

Ok, I have to write this.  I thought paladins were above petty emotions like jealousy but I really think Avia crossed the line, just because I was talking with someone my own age and she felt threatened.  I do agree that she is strong and skilled but I don’t see how that affords her the right to dictate who I talk to and find interesting.  A simple “we’re ready” would have done fine.

Anyway, so after my having been physically dragged away from the young lady, we all positioned ourselves in front of the tower, and Sabin cast Spider Climb on himself while the rest of us received the spell by virtue of the six scrolls we (well, Kane and Rigel) had bought.  (That ran us an astounding 1000 gold pieces.  When I think of how I was scrabbling for silver on my trip here, I’m reminded of how much has happened in just a few months.)  The seven of us arranged ourselves two to a side but one side, of course, had only one.  And up we went, much to the pleasure of the crowd, judging from the ooos and ahhhs.

Little of import happened until we reached the scaffolding near the top of the tower.  The four of us nearest the scaffolding had been suffering the occasional brick being tossed down at us by something so we knew we’d be pausing there to deal with something.  And so it was that Sabin, Nolin, Avia and I found three of the faceless creatures we’d seen in Aldrin’s townhouse, and once we neared they brandished their weapons and the battle began in earnest.  Although these creatures were powerful, fate had placed our three strongest fighters in their path. With some maneuvering, I was able to arrange line of sight so that I could toss in the occasional magic missile.

When the first one died, Nolin cheerfully announced it had to go over the side.  “The crowd,” he explained.  “A body falling from the tower will show them we’re really doing things.”  It had a strange twisted sense of logic to it, so over the side it went.  And we heard a noise come up from the crowd below as it hit the ground about 150 feet below: “ohhhhhhhh”.

While this battle was happening, the other three were still ascending. With the clock tower being between 30 and 40 feet on a side at this point, they were unaware that we had stopped to fight.  They could neither see nor hear the evidence of battle, and so they kept going.

The swordplay and magic missiles continued on the scaffolding and it wasn’t long before another fleshy corpse was hurled to the ground below. (“ohhhhhhhh.”)  With only one creature and three fighters left, I saw little I could add to the battle, so I continued my ascent of the last 20 feet or so.  When the last creature was defeated and sent plummeting (“ohhhhhhh.”) the others also continued their ascent.

It is well that we went up as quickly as we did.  By the time I got up there, I could see an inhuman yet strangely attractive half-dressed woman with bat wings flying slowly around the building, and Rigel and Kane seemed to be silently battling some sort of serpent woman with a very long ornate spear.  She was wearing a mask and …

And I realized I couldn’t hear a thing.  A quick word out loud to myself confirmed that there was probably a spell of silence in this area. Quickly reviewing my spells, I realized that there was none that I could cast silently.  Almost anything offensive, though, required line-of-sight, so I couldn’t step away to cast it if it caused me to lose sight of my enemy.  I found it odd that Olithar was not up here already, but perhaps he, like I, was seeking a place where he could say his spells. Since spider climb did not require I necessarily have a rope to climb, I ducked and scampered across the face of the walls, trying to reach the other side where I expected to find Olithar.  I found that only a few feet below the edge of the roof, the silence ended, and I also found that it was not uniform all the way around the roof.  I hoped that when I reached the other side I might find Olithar and a place I could use my spells.

About this time the three fighters came up, and Avia immediately engaged the creature.  Its spear was wicked fast, and although she took damage as she approached she steadfastly made her way to within her weapon’s reach and made it pay dearly for its attack on our party.  This snake lady, however, was not going to go down easily.  Meanwhile, the creature we presumed was Xaneesha continued to survey the battle, flying slowly around the building.

I poked my head up on the other side of the roof and discovered that while the silence did not extend as far down the wall here, it did still prevent me from even poking my head over the wall and speaking.  But I did see Avia battling the creature, and Nolin and Sabin coming to the top of the roof themselves, but I now was on the backside.

And there was still no sign of Olithar, here, on the side of the building he was supposed to be on, and I began to feel a tingle of concern move up and down my spine.  There was no sign of him on this wall that I could see.  I began to fear the worst.

Refocusing, I remembered from previous battles that our swordsmen had commented how much easier it was to strike an opponent who was concerned about an attack from the rear. So although I really am not well suited for close attack as others in our group were, I realized I was the only one on the backside of this creature. Soon she would have three formidable swordsmen in front of her, and if a distraction from the rear afforded them a better opportunity to defeat her, it seemed well worth it.  Besides, she couldn’t strike at all of us at once and although I was a distraction, I was much less a threat and might well provide a distraction without great danger to my much lesser armored self.  As a sorceror, I was rather useless in an area of silence anyway; here was a way I could contribute.

So I too engaged the creature, who noticed me instantly.  In the next attack she managed to get two jabs at Avia and one at me.  Wicked fast, I remembered belatedly as blood poured from my wound.

Emboldened, Rigel too was able to surprise the creature with an arrow (with surprisingly good results — she must have been practicing!) Avia continued to weaken it, and Nolin and Sabin joined their swords to the effort.  Bereft of my magic missiles and burning spheres, I brought out the claws and cut her up a little too.

I had a brief feeling of despair, like we weren’t winning the battle, but of course we were and I shook it off.  A quick glance, however, at the faces of Rigel and Nolin suggested they’d been hit by the same feeling and were fighting on grimly but with less enthusiasm.  Another spell, I realized.

Suddenly, she took to the air.  No longer in close quarters, Avia was able to peg her with a quick arrow before she winked out of sight. Xaneesha stopped circling and landed at one corner of the roof. Rigel shot an arrow at her and she too winked out of sight.  Hindsight suggests, since that was the first hit she’d taken, that she had been nothing more than a phantasm all along.  In fact, with greater hindsight, I realized that the creature we’d been battling was, in all likelihood, actually Xaneesha.

We noticed the silence had ended, and Kane hastily stumbled over his words as he told us that Olithar had actually been the first to engage Xaneesha, if you can call being turned to stone at first glance an engagement.  As we gaped, he continued that she had then pushed him over the edge and he had fallen over 150 feet to the ground below and broken into several pieces.  I glanced down and could make out a pile of stones which had been our friend. “I have a mend spell,” I said. “I’ll go down and put him back together and maybe we can do something for him.”  I started to descend.

Suddenly Xaneesha appeared one more time, hovering in the air, and shot a scorching ray which blistered Avia.  I stopped my descent and took the opportunity to send another magic missile her way, which struck most satisfyingly.  And then she disappeared again.  I hesitated, wanting to help Olithar but not wanting to abandon my friends if she were still present.  Avia tried to sense evil, but couldn’t find any sign of her. Perhaps she was gone for good.

And then, from below, we heard the most awful, gurgling scream that was quickly cut off.  The crowd, even from 180 feet up, seemed agitated and one or two broke away to inspect the broken status before backing away and pointing.  And I realized, there was no help for our friend.  The transformation to stone had been temporary, and the intended mending not in time.  He had resumed flesh form, but having been broken into several pieces, he quickly (we can hope) died, bleeding profusely onto the ground around him.

It took us almost two minutes to descend safely to the ground and make our way over to him.  By then it was certainly too late to do anything.  Kane explained that Olithar had no sooner realized that there was an area of silence over the roof than Xaneesha had turned her attention to him.  Her eyes had glowed green, Olithar startled … and then turned to stone.  No opportunity to defend himself, no opportunity to draw a foe’s blood. Her rush to then push him over the edge telegraphed what we could not know: the spell was not permanent, and if the battle went on long enough, he would become a threat again when the spell wore off.

And so, an ignominious — dare I say igneous? — end to our comrade. Like many of us, he had made arrangements in the case of his death, and first among them was an admonition that he was not to be brought back. Such an action would cost us thousands of gold even if we could arrange it, but his wishes took the possibility out of our hands.

We had on occasion discussed theology, he and I, and he was astounded to find that I considered clerics and paladins to simply be adept at manipulating magical energy, much as I am, and that I considered gods, churches, and religion in general to simply be a complex means of focusing upon the energy around us and manipulating it.  For me, I seem to be able to gather it and have it flow to me, but for people with “divine powers” they seem to require the trappings of the office — the garb, the weaponry, the symbols, the devotion — to attain the same command of magic.  They attribute this to gods while not realizing their own capabilities.

Although I dearly wish I could have such a discussion with him again, I see now the truth of my position.  If gods existed, and had power upon this earth, how could they allow something so evil as Xaneesha so meaninglessly take the life of not just a random person, but one of those few supposedly chosen to expand that god’s influence on earth? What’s the point of being a priest if you don’t get special treatment? If such gods exist and they treat those most loyal to them so shabbily, why on earth would anybody else give them the time of day?  No, it’s even more clear now that the pantheon of gods is just a human construct for explaining some people’s skill with magical energy.

We disagreed on this very basic belief, but still, it was always in a respectful way, and I shall miss him. I take no pleasure in being shown right.

It turns out that Rigel, that human truffle pig, had nosed around the areas at the rooftop and found a non-magical scroll [243] that was a list of names.  Many were crossed off, and we recognized them as victims from both Magnimar and Sandpoint.   It was clear by the mere existence of the list that the victims chosen were not at all random.  We had noted earlier that they seemed to come from all walks of life, but this list underscored that the collection, as a whole, was precisely designed and chosen to be a cross-section of the city and countryside.  To what end, I don’t rightly know.

Most notable among the names not yet crossed off were the mayor, and our own Rigel, which evoked an odd combination of pride and paranoia from her.  However, next to the mayor’s name were numerous notes about his comings and goings, his eating habits, his travel plans — many personal notes about his life.  If he was not yet a victim, he was destined to be soon unless he made some changes.

The guard was adamant about not being able to take us to the mayor until we made mention of what information this scroll held.  They paled and said they would talk to a supervisor.  So it was that Nolin and Sabin visited the mayor later that day; Nolin due in part to his having strong connections to the city, and Sabin due in part to his being particularly bored, I think. I can’t imagine he went along to facilitate the conversation.

They returned telling us that the mayor took the news most seriously, and had said he would see not only to his on safety but all of those on the list.  Nolin skeptically relayed this part, indicating by his gestures and inflection that he tended to believe they had simply been humored on the visit.  The mayor had stated, however, that if the killings did indeed stop for a week after this latest battle, we would be rewarded for our service to the town.

For our part, we’ve agreed to protect Rigel regardless of the mayor’s intentions, and Rigel graciously agreed to being the object of our protection, deciding that she liked being among the living and not becoming the canvas for a seven sided piece of grisly art.

Moonday, 13 Abadius

Seven days to the hour, Sabin and Nolin and I returned to the mayor’s office for a followup visit.  There have been no more killings, but we were unsure if the mayor meant what he said.  Can’t hurt to ask.  And to be honest, I can’t say if the absence of ritual murders was because she has truly left and moved elsewhere or she’s simply healing from the beating we gave her.  The mayor was not present at his office, according to his seneschal, but he was throwing a lavish dinner that evening in our honor and we should all show up at 6.

With the mayor not seen on this visit, we had visions of doppelgangers and golems and the perfect opportunity to kill us all in a single stroke were we to appear at this previously unannounced “dinner”.   However, upon reflection, we decided perhaps we were living just a wee bit paranoid.  Avia headed over a mite early to secretly scout the grounds and the area, and she did see the mayor, and evidence of a party being set up so perhaps our paranoia was a bit overmuch.

So we struck a balance, dressing well but by no means weaponless.  And other than hearty greetings, repeated toasts, many congratulations, and much shaking of hands, nothing unusual happened at the dinner.  Well the mayor DID award us each 6000 gold pieces. Each.  6000.  Gold.   Pieces.

It took a moment to realize that while we were not yet filthy rich, none of us was exactly dirt poor any more either. I’ll need to do some training in the coming weeks, and for once I’ll have no trouble paying for it. We really have come quite a distance in just a few months.

Most of us, I remind myself.  Some of us, sadly, were unable to complete the journey.

Wealday, 18 Kuthona

As we wrestled with the question of what to do with Ironbrier, we reviewed what we knew. He claimed to have been charmed by Xaneesha into doing her will. He claimed that he would not have done it, otherwise. He claimed he would reward us for letting him go. He claimed to be a member of — indeed, a priest of — the same religion as Xaneesha, but a different faction. His god was known as Norgurbur, the Reaper of Reputation. He did in fact carry a holy symbol consistent with that religion, but his faction, one of four, was one more interested in the more secular issues of reputation and power rather than the masks and the killings. He seemed more angry about being used than about the deaths, but we shouldn’t hope for too much regret over the deaths, given his apparent alignment and spiritual background.

Avia was adamant that he should either be turned over to the town for justice, or killed summarily. Trouble was it would come down to the word of a band of people recently arrived from out of town and strangely familiar with the murders, against that of a high justice of the city. We’d likely not win that battle of accusations. And killing him ourselves was regarded not an option by more than one member of the party. I find myself among that group. Perhaps it was his rank, perhaps it was that he appeared to have been used, but it seemed his freedom would actually get us closer to the greater evil. It is dismaying to realize he will not see justice for the deeds he’s done, but sometimes the forces of good must choose between the lesser of two evils, not simply between good and evil.

And so it was in this case. It was by no means unanimous, but fortunately those in the minority did not choose to argue with their weapons. It is the single most divisive issue I’ve ever seen this group wrestle with.

His freedom was tempered, of course. Sabin and I would become his “aides” for 12 hours while he “put his affairs in order”. He agreed to take care of the, uh, disrepair at the mill, and make some arrangements so that much of his wealth and belongings could follow him (or meet him) where he was going. We did not ask where he was going for we knew he would not tell.

We went with him back to his residence, and to their credit his staff did not spend any time asking him why he’d acquired two new assistants, especially with one being a half-orc. We were briefly mentioned as “bodyguards” and nothing more was said. In this role, we had free rein to follow him, and gave him a modicum of privacy while he wrote numerous letters. He even allowed me to inspect one and while it could have been written in some sort of cipher I suppose, it seemed to be what he said it would be: a letter directing the disposition of some of his wealth and belongings.

Since we were still not entirely trusting of him, Kane and Rigel were to follow us discreetly and watch over us, to make sure we ourselves were not charmed by him into doing something untoward. So we were partially but not entirely surprised when we heard what sounded like a large explosion from his bedroom shortly after dinner. We three rushed to the room but found nothing but a tripped ward and an open window. He chalked it up to his enemies already having sniffed out his weakening power, but Sabin and I looked at each other and guessed Rigel had been too tempted by the sparkly and shiny things in his house. (We discovered later that we were spot on.)

Later that evening, a messenger returned with a box of platinum and gear. Ironbrier made a non-magical offer for us to join him, but both Sabin and I declined. There was a bit of hesitancy in Sabin’s response which made me look at him closely, but no, in the end nobody joined him. He announced things were in order and we’d leave in about two hours. He dressed in rather plain travelling clothes. He seemed to have a travelling bag that could hold much more than one might think. (I’d heard of bags like that but never seen one. Seems quite handy.)

We left for the town gates just before 1am. We presumed that one or both of our tails, Kane or Rigel, would notify the rest of the party. Although they didn’t get there before we said our final goodbyes, they were there within minutes of them.

Before he left, he kept his word and told Sabin and I of Xaneesha. She has taken up residence at the shadow clock. Beautiful but very persuasive; since she was able to charm him I suspect the persuasive aspect has significant magical components to it. He said she is the personal agent of the dark forces, and that she has 5 henchman we need to watch for. The clock tower is in the Underdark, and the front door is guarded.

Additionally, he said that Aldrin was paying 200 gp per week in hush money. He had killed his wife and didn’t want anybody finding out. 200 gp per week was draining him pretty fast though; had he not fallen victim to the fungus in his manor, he may have had other problems soon.

Fungus, by the way, is what Xaneesha was most interested in. Aldrin was back at the manor because she had directed him to bring samples to her. Those samples may well have been what led him to the fate he suffered.

After relaying all of this to the rest of our party, we returned to the inn for a good night’s sleep. Oh, and Sabin and I each earned 1 gp for our short stint as bodyguards. Not bad pay; maybe I should look into this line of work.

hah.

Toilday, 19 Kuthona

After discussing it among ourselves, we thought it wise for some of us to get some additional training before confronting Xaneesha. Some people only needed a week or so for their training, while a couple needed two. I myself was already “up to snuff”. Before undertaking this, we (Nolin, Olithar, and myself) decided to try to see if we could trail where Ironbrier went. Near as we can tell, his trail got lost on the road pretty quickly after leaving town. While none of us are expert trackers, we suspect magic still may have been the primary means of his transportation. After all, we may not have been the only ones tracking him.

Late in the day, we did encounter some sort of frog men that Nolin insisted were hazards to travellers because they were so close to the road. They seemed to be building, or at least hanging out near, three mounds of mud, and they did brandish weapons at us. But it was hard to take them seriously with their frog-like appearance. At Nolin’s insistence we did away with three of them and while I escaped unscathed, they did mark up Olithar and Nolin some. And we did find, after slaying them, they actually did have some weapons that were not theirs, about 20 gold pieces, and the remains of some people, so I guess they really did waylay travellers. Ya just can’t tell by looking, I guess. I didn’t look close enough to see if the travellers’ bodies had simply rotted or been eaten. Really didn’t need to know that much.

Knowing that the others were busily training anyway, we made a leisurely trip out of it, travelling a few days out and back. Although we did meet several other travellers, none of them had seen a man matching the description of Ironbrier. Neither did we encounter any more wildlife that needed to be put down. We returned to Magnimar midday on Sunday.

Sunday, 22 Kuthona

Our multi-day journey was easily summarized to the remainder of the party, and Nolin took it upon himself to do some training too. Olithar and I will go scout out the clock tower tomorrow while Nolin starts training and the others finish.

Monday, 23 Kuthona

The clock tower looks a bit intimidating, even in daylight. We tried not to stand out so much here in the Underdark, but I imagine we still looked a bit out of place. Although the front door seems secure, the tower looks like it may be in disrepair. That alone probably keeps a lot of the locals away, but a quick tug on the front door also indicated it was locked. Seven years ago, one of them tells us, the city declared it dangerous and took effort to close it off.

The base was about 60 feet on a side, but it towers up almost 200 feet, maybe about 180. It narrows some as it rises, so it’s not 60 feet square all the way up. The belfry still shows some elegance after all these years, and had it not fallen into disrepair would likely be a tourist attraction in its own right. In its current condition — mortar is crumbling, and bricks are falling out of it — it’s more of a distraction than an attraction. Near the top there’s still a scaffolding of some sort hanging precariously on the side of the building.

I hope the stairs inside are in better shape than the outside suggests, or thoroughly examining this properly will require more skill or magic than may be present in our group. I wonder if there are rooms underground? Such a building must require a firm foundation.

Fireday, 3 Abadius

The days have passed leisurely for myself and Olithar, as others complete their training. Well, actually, Olithar has been off hanging around his temple, I guess, but I’m content to spend the days resting mostly and occasionally getting out and walking around just to keep in shape.

We had had no messenger come by from Ironbrier, and we were beginning to believe perhaps the reward portion of his speech had indeed been fluffery, but lo, today a cloaked messenger arrived. Meeting him was like meeting with a state spy; we did not mention Ironbrier’s name out loud, but instead referred to “our friend” and “those incidents”. In this manner we communicated to the messenger that we had not yet attacked Xaneesha or the clock tower, but intended to within a few days. He might return in, say, one or two weeks if he wished additional news. He gave no indication if he would. We mentioned to him we had moved to a new inn; he nodded.

He did say there was a parcel at our feet under the table, and that it was for us. He then abruptly left. We casually removed it to our room and after Rigel checked it for traps and such, opened it to discover seven gold bars, each worth 500 gp. Normally we take out a share of what we recover or are paid for “group expenses” but agreed that given the form this particular recompense had taken, we wouldn’t try to split up 7 bars 8 ways.

I’m good with that.

Sunday, 5 Abadius

The murders are still happening, and Nolin, the only one still training, has agreed we can’t sit idle while more people are losing their lives. Tomorrow, in the early dark of morn, we will go to the tower.

Moonday, 6 Abadius

Our thinking about investigating before the sun rises is two-fold. One is that what we are about to do — break into an area closed off by the city — is something we’d like to be a little bit surreptitious about. We might be in and out in an hour, and if we can do that while it’s dark, even the twilight of a rising sun, all the better. Two is that if we find these forces seem to benefit from darkness, an increasing light works in our favor.

We really didn’t know what to expect, other than Xaneesha and five misshapen henchmen defending their turf.

We started by picking the lock on the front door; practically child’s play for Rigel these days. Carefully entering the tower, we could see in the dim light that the outside may well be worse off than the inside. We used our continual light rocks to see better, but they didn’t make the contents really look any better.

Debris was scattered around. Fallen framing and timbers were in each of six small rooms that started to the right of the door, as we entered, and ran counterclockwise to the middle of the wall opposite us. To the left was a staircase that looked like it had seen better days. It led up into the clock tower, winding around and around the outside wall as it rose.

Some footprints were evident on the staircase that indicated it still seen relatively recent use, so that offered some meager evidence that Ironbrier had not lied about this building being used.

We were a bit startled, but not really very surprise, when one pile of debris stood up as we were inspecting the damaged rooms, and approached Olithar. It had bits of people, animals, and debris integrated into a body-like shap, and a selection of shrunken heads dangling from its belt.

This must be one of the misshapen ones. And when it smacked Olithar, it smacked him HARD. And that was just the beginning.

First, it was huge; easily as big as any three of us. Second, much to my and Olithar’s dismay, flame seemed to have no effect on it. Olithar’s spiritual weapon passed right through it without damage. Kane tried channelling positive energy to it; no effect. Magic missile did seem to do damage to it, at least. Avia finally switched to an adamantine weapon she has and that seemed to do real damage at last.

We did dispatch it, but it took great effort and all but I were signficantly injured. Our clerics healed us, but this did not bode well if we encountered the other four henchman at the same time.

On the corpse of this abomination we found a +1 scythe and a cloak of elvenkind, that Avia accepted. Searching carefully through the debris also discovered about 125 gp, 309 sp, a tarnished silver ring with the inscription “TO AV WITH LOVE” and a silver mirror. The mirror and the ring might have some intrinsic value, but nothing found was magic.

We found nothing else of interest on this floor, in the main hall or in any of the rooms. That left nowhere but up. Sabin and I tried to go up but it was clear the wood would not likely support the two of us standing too close together.

Since Sabin could cast featherfall on himself if need be, and I’d, at best, have to read it from a scroll, he went up alone. He’d gone three times around and reached the first set of windows when he heard a noise from above. A sawing noise. With no further warning, a huge copper bell fell from the heights. It took out the section of stairs Sabin was on, and hurt him badly just from the blow. He fell, but was able to feather himself down.

Meanwhile, I had the good fortune to be in the target area, and when the bell came crashing down, careening off what structure was left, fate dictated that it should land on me. I took even more damage than Sabin, and had to be pried out from under the bell and healed almost immediately.

And so much for any degree of secrecy in this operation. Outside, it was considerably lighter but now people were gathering about the tower, gossiping about the loud noise. We quickly decided to spin this as best we could, because sure as the sun rises every morning, when we exited the tower there were a pair of constables there. We brought out the body of the creature we’d killed and loudly announced there was some foul presence in that tower.

As the constables (and crowd) looked over the misshapen corpse, you could almost feel the tide swing in our favor. We told a tale of having seen it and it ran into the tower. Knowing it would be harmful to the town and wondering idly if it might be responsible for the killings, we chased it in and killed it, as any capable townsperson would. The crowd was murmuring and although the constables were still mildly suspicious, they couldn’t deny that the body in front of them was not a citizen of the town.

We announced were going to go back in and see if there was more, and did they want to come? Nooooo, the constables were willing to let us go in but they would keep the peace out here. Already they were shooing people back (“nothing to see here, just a rotting building, move along”) One did comment, after looking at the bell, that the rope appeared to have been cut. Gasp, really? One of the onlookers commented that sometimes, people who live here could see something or some things flying in and out of the tower. (That’s distressing, that maybe we get up to the top and it just flies away. Not sure we can do much about that.)

Anyway, I need to wrap this up and rejoin the group. We are strategizing about what to do next. I’m hearing ropes, and I’m hearing Spider Climb and I’m hearing “long way to fall”. Sigh. I need to learn that featherfall thing.

17 Kuthona

We thought we had a dilemma. We thought we had a tough decision. We thought we faced great risk should we choose unwisely. And we had no idea that within a day, we’d face a decision that would make this one look as simple as deciding whether to kill a charging goblin or not.

But I get ahead of myself.

The three bodies of the creatures that we’d vaguely identified as something of legend that ought not exist would begin to rot if we simply left them here. In addition, we had no idea if they had regenerative abilities, or would be even more fearsome if raised from the dead. We did not know why they had been here, nor did we know what their absence would mean to whomever knew they were here. And lastly, we had no idea what the town guard would make of this. Would we be viewed as heroes for ridding the city of this scourge, blamed for their appearing in the first place, or simply noted by the guard as a health threat. “We’ll have the usual corpse detail remove them by the end of the day; please make sure they are all the way out to the street, as there will be an extra charge if our men need to walk to the rear of the house to retrieve them.”

In the end, we decided we had to tell the town guard, and seeing what they made of it might tell us more of how they were handling the ongoing murder spree. So Nolin went to the nearest guard station (which happened to be the huge tall one that overlooked most of the city) and returned with a constable. There was a brief investigation — “Did they have weapons? Why did you feel threatened? What are YOU doing here?”

Finally, however, we seemed to win him over and he admitted they were a little unusual looking. We conjectured on whether they were connected with the murders here, and mentioned we’d dealt with some similar murders in Sandpoint. He looked a little interested and we talked a bit about our adventures. Conversationally, he mentioned that the murders here had been going on long before we dealt with them in Sandpoint; cases like this were going back several months. Cases like this? Er, just odd deaths, he meant, and looked as if he’d said too much. They did appear to be strong creatures, he admitted, and asked if we knew why they were here. Also — where was the real owner? We truthfully responded that nobody had seen the true owner in over a month, and that’s what had brought us here (pointedly holding up the key that allowed us to enter without incident.)

Nodding, he concluded his investigation by saying he’d send somebody around to pick up the bodies discreetly; no point in the neighborhood being upset by this. We agreed to leave the bodies in the garden and access to the garden unlocked so that it could be dealt with via the alley.

“One last thing,” he said as we moved to the door. “Where are you staying?”

When we replied we were staying at the inn near Nolin’s parents, he nodded and suggested we should not leave town anytime soon. We agreed, as we pointed out to him we still had a mystery on our hands and wouldn’t be leaving until we had a hand on that.

That left us with our first somewhat positive experience with the law in this town. I think we’d found one person who was still suspicious of us, but at least mildly impressed with what we’d done and how we’d done it.

Kane and Rigel thought they might have some contacts/references in town that could provide more information about the murders and where we might find the sawmill where the payments apparently took place. They took the remainder of the day to go to the Underbridge district and ask about; they returned about 50gp lighter but with little new information. That seemed a bit spendy to me, but both Kane and Rigel assured me (and us) that it was spent buying drinks and purchasing good humor during their “research”. They were confident that if anyone had knowledge of the murders or the sawmill they would contact us. Although they claimed nobody had followed them back, that still didn’t sound terribly safe to me because I rather suspected “contact” might be made with a sharp instrument rather than a brief note. Myself, I slept a little uneasily that night.

Wealday, 18 Kuthona

At least some of the murders in Sandpoint occurred at a sawmill. These payments we were tracing also happened at a sawmill. Coincidence? maybe. In any case, one of the things Kand and Rigel had learned yesterday was that a large number of sawmill were based on the island to the south of the city, and yes, one of them might happen to be named “The 7”. So after a good breakfast, we started off through town. Rigel and Kane thought it possible we might find an interested party following us, due to the previous day’s inquiries, and said they’d drop back a bit to see if we were being followed. As luck would have it, it appears we were. I didn’t learn of this until afterward, but Kane apparently cornered the guy near a shop and said, “Tell your bosses thanks for the escort.” The guy apparently looked startled and said, “Beg your pardon?” but quickly excused himself and disappeared again into the crowd. Nobody else seemed to be following us. Or else they were better at it.

After an hour or so of leisurely walking, we did reach the island, which had a bridge on both the north and south sides to connect it to, respectively, the main city and an apparent burg that contained some of the more, er, free-thinking members of the city. I think I heard somebody say the island was named Kiver’s Islet. This island did seem to cater towards wood and lumber. There were a large number of sawmills, as well as woodworking shops, ship construction, and ship repair.

And a sawmill named The 7.

The building appeared to be four stories tall, although there also appeared to be a basement at water level only accessible from the outside. What appeared to be the business entrance was at ground level, with three more stories above it. The group considered briefly how to approach it, but I said, “It’s a business, right? There must be somebody inside.” And indeed we did hear the sound of boards being sawed and lumber being cut. “Well, we are looking for business with this mill, friends. I suggest we go on in and ask. It’s the middle of the week, in the middle of the day, after all!” And before anybody could stop me, I strode onto the porch overlooking the river and approached the double doors that led to the entrance.

“Hello?” I asked, and knocked. “Anybody here?” With no response, I threw open the doors and strode in, the rest of the party hesitantly following.

But the room was empty. There was plenty of machinery around, and tools scattered about, but nobody minding the front door. Odd. Avia detected twelve distinct evil presences, all above us in some fashion. Up we go, then, to the second floor.

There, we were more successful. Although the stairwell seemed to be in a small room with a door, the door was ajar and we saw four men working, who looked up when we entered. This room had holes in the ceiling; evidently work passed vertically between this and the upper level via a system of pulleys and ropes. Noise from above was evident through the holes in the ceilings. I adopted my previous stance, stepping forward confidently and remarking, “Glad to meet you. I’m Perot Threshmore and I’m here regarding an account of one of your customers. Aldrin Foxglove has fallen behind in his payments and wishes to bring his account up to date. Are you the foreman?”

The man seemed calm yet a little surprised. “The foreman’s not here,” he said. “C’mon in, though. Nice to meet you. We can get him.” All the men stopped working as he spoke and looked at us. Avia silently signalled that they were all detecting as evil.

“Foreman’s not here? Are you a supervisor? I want to make sure we get this settled but I’m not sure who the right person to talk to would be. Do you have an accountant, or somebody who handles the money for you?” I asked, basically stalling to give everyone a chance to make it up the stairs and for Avia to refine her evil assessment.

“Foreman’s upstairs. We should go upstairs.” The men had moved slightly but deliberately while we were talking, but now I made no attempt to move to the stairs. “It’s a sizable amount of money; no offense but I want to make sure I’m talking to the right person. Is it the foreman or the accountant who is upstairs?” One impatiently reached down into a pile of lumber and pulled out a war razor hidden there. The others quickly did the same, and the battle was on. One nicked me a bit, as I’d basically given him a free attack owing to my method of entering the room with a purposeful stride and a bit of chatter. I quickly extended my claws and nicked him back but it startled him a lot less than I thought it might. Rigel darted in and out like a hummingbird, but a hummingbird with a stinger. She ended up laying out two of them, Olithar a third, and I the last. We stablilized their wounds, tied them up, and left them lying unconscious in a corner of the room not visible from the stairs.

Avia checked again, and said she detected evil above us, something like eight individual presences. That’s what we would have guessed, from the math, but it was good to have it confirmed. The weapons they’d used seemed quite well made, but we set them aside for now. Rigel snooped around the room looking for, well, anything else but found nothing.

We asked her to carefully sneak up the stairs and scout a bit for us. She reported that there were two doors upstairs, with noise behind one. On the top floor, there seemed to be a mostly open area in which there were two people and some closed doors behind them.

Concentrating, Avia reported the strongest evil presence was on the 4th floor. Since the third floor might represent reinforcements, we grabbed a board and some rope and rigged a bar across the door with noise behind it. Without nails or spikes it wouldn’t lock anybody in the room, but it would slow them down. And we continued upstairs.

I again used my insistent self-introduction on the two men we found up there. As Rigel had noted, there appeared to be two doors behind them; the room had some workbenches and they seemed to be working on planes. The room was full of sawdust, sometimes to a foot deep it appeared.

My chatter again allowed everyone to make it up the stairs while one of the men calmly told me to stop, and said I wasn’t allowed up here. It was too dangerous. I should go back downstairs. Avia took up a conveniently flanking position on one of the men as I again asked about the foreman. Or the accountant, whichever could best help me with my question. Meanwhile, Rigel started quietly searching the nearest workbench but almost lost her cookies. Noticing her reaction, several other party members moved closer and also became alarmed.

The workbench appeared to have been used for dissection. Recently. As in, blood still fresh.

But about this same time, the man I wasn’t speaking to pulled out a mask, put it on his face, and repeated that I should leave. “You might get hurt,” he said ominously behind a mask that appeared to be made of skin and body parts and featured a bulbous eye. “Man with a mask!” I yelled as the man opposite me also put on a similarly visceral mask. By this time, everyone was in the room and taking up battle positions.

The men reached down into the deep sawdust and pulled up more war razors hidden there.

Avia, sensing the strongest evil was not these two, quickly moved opposite the door behind which it seemed to be. And noted, much to her frustration, that it had suddenly disappeared.

Meanwhile, Sabin was told to FLEE! by the man I’d been talking to, and with a look of purpose on his face, Sabin ran to the stairs. I attempted to grapple the man and rip the mask off his face, but failed. Rigel, that sneaky damsel, again started darting among the attackers, wounding almost at will. Avia found her frustration to be an excellent focus for her sword, and before anybody else could lay an edge to them, the men were both down.

Olithar healed our wounded and prepared to stabilize our enemies so we might question them. Before he could do so, though, Sabin returned with a very angry look in his face, strode over to the prone figure of the man who had told him to flee, and with a single slice, separated his head from his body. “His condition is stable NOW,” he growled. We were stunned, but, well, that’s Sabin. He doesn’t take kindly to be ordered about.

Avia still wanted to get into the room the evil had escaped from and was dissuaded from simply breaking down the door. Rigel searched the locked door for traps — and found one. She disarmed the poison trap she found, and after a couple of tries unlocked the lock as well.

The room appeared on the one hand to be an office, or maybe a personal room .. but the walls in this place were covered with human faces stretched over forms, looking down into the room. If this was somebody’s office or bedroom, they were one twisted puppy. There appeared to be a trapdoor in the ceiling.

There was a foot locker, and in a flash Rigel had opened it. Inside we found a number of interesting items, ranging from fairly mundane items such as sea charts, etchings, and pamphlets (about a forgotten alchemical school of magic) to more interesting items like a spellbook and another gruesome mask.

[234] painting of a city carved out of a huge ice formation
[235] journal + ledger
[236] a spellbook whose cover bore the drawing of two entwined snakes, one red, one green
[237] an old filigree tome, “Fairy tales of the Eldest”
[238] sea charts
[239] mask – single long strip of dried flesh stretched into a spiral. fills your mind with images of murder and makes you more sensitive to the exact spot(s)
to murder someone, +1 profane damage with a slashing weapon against
living creatures, +2 to perception checks against creatures not immune
to fear, -1 CH, can cast confusion twice per day

Sabin cast detect magic to see if any of these things were magic and had a most curious result. Yes, the spellbook was magic. Yes, the mask was magic. But he also detected an area right near the door that seemed to radiate magic. A blank, magical space in the room. How odd. Sabin issued a swift kick in that spot and was rewarded with a muffled “oof” from the space. And then a voice. “Oh my goodness, thank you so much for rescuing me! Please don’t kick me again! You will undoubtedly receive a rich reward!” The voice identified itself as Justice Ironbrier, one of the thirteen Justices of the city. He related how he’d been tied up, made invisible, and left in the room but had managed to loosen himself. When he heard the noise outside, he didn’t know if it was friend or foe and so had waited silently. But now …

Avia was very suspicious. She’d sensed evil and it had gone away, yet here was this person, invisible, hiding in the room. “Oh wait,” said Ironbrier, “if I strike you it will end the invisible spell, right?” And he reached out and lightly tapped Sabin and suddenly there he was. He did have some rope with him as though he’d been tied, and still had loose bonds on him. Avia tried to read him but did not detect any evil.

He’d been investigating the murders, it seems, and had gotten too close for comfort. He’d been captured and hidden away here. “Who captured you?” we asked.

“It was a tall, bulky, muscled man in a brown cloak. Looked something like a half orc, perhaps. I’ve only been here an hour. He was here when you came, but he escaped through that trapdoor.”

After checking for traps, Rigel went up to check out the trapdoor. It led to what appeared to be a roost. Three ravens were in a cage, as well as a quill, some ink, and some paper in a cubby nearby. There was no roof, and a clear view was available for 360 degrees. If someone had escaped this way, they’d flown away somehow.

Kane and Nolin had kept watch over the prisoner, and Nolin quietly confirmed that this did indeed look like one of the thirteen justices, both in face and in dress. Olithar attempted to sense motive on Ironbrier, but he seemed to be telling the truth.

As Rigel and the others came down through the trapdoor, there was a call from outside the room. “Trouble.”

We exited to see the last of nine men entering the room from the stairway. Each was wearing a grotesque mask, and as our party exited the room, Ironbrier being kept firmly within sword’s length of Avia, we may have appeared slightly overmatched.

Then Ironbrier said something strange. He said, looking out at the men, “None of them should leave alive.” And the battle was on. Had he spoken to the men, or to us? At that point, it didn’t matter.

Olithar cast prayer to help us, and I jumped to the front of the group and color sprayed the men. Two of them fell unconscious, but three others were unfortunately unaffected. Sabin and Nolin quickly took two of them down before another ominous, unusual thing happened.

Ironbrier, during the heat of battle, turned to Avia (who had not budged from Ironbrier’s side, convinced he was really evil) and suggested he was impressed by how she carried and conducted herself, and that after this was over, there was an opening on his staff for her. It was, Avia realized, more than a suggestion. He’d attempted to charm her. She drew her sword to his throat and told him if he tried anything like that again she would slit his throat. He paled and apologized, saying he meant no harm.

Meanwhile, around this little drama the battle continued. Nolin took out another one, and Rigel came in from behind another to take him out. Nolin and I each received some minor injuries before, inexplicably, Ironbrier started to cast a spell.

Avia is not unskilled in the ways of magic herself, and from the gestures and mouthings, recognized it as the start of a curse aimed at her. She immediately sliced him well and good with her sword, and Olither moved in to support her. I managed to take out two more of the men with some well-aimed magic missiles, and Rigel found the vital spot of one of the unconscious men, leaving only one standing and one prone.

The one still standing ran off. Sabin tried to chase him, but was unable to catch him. Meanwhile, the battle between Avia and Ironbrier raged. Ironbrier found another war razor in the sawdust and smoothly picked it up. Kane started throwing curses at Ironbrier, and I magic missiled him. While Rigel dispatched the other unconscious man, Avia and Olithar laid Ironbrier low.

Olithar stabilized the near-dead men while we decided what to do. We took away all their masks and stripped Ironbrier. The latter was manacled using Rigel’s master manacles as we discussed what to do next.

His confiscated belongings:

war razor
[240] wand [12] of cure moderate wounds
mithril shirt

We checked the spellbook and it contained all the cantrips and the spells blink, cats’s grace, chill touch, enlarge person, fox’s cunning, grease, haste, lightning bolt, mage armor, scorching ray, shocking grasp, shrink item, spider climb, and web. No ‘make invisible’ there, although of course that could have been a scroll or potion too. Quite possible too that this wasn’t his spellbook. We didn’t see a holy symbol, but his wand was clerical in nature. Ironbrier had clearly attacked us. But he was a Justice. Who in the town would believe us? If we tried to turn him in and he pointed at us and claimed we’d kidnapped him, what would stop the town guard from arresting us, either because they were convinced he was telling the truth or simply from duty?

Could it be he was under some compulsion to attack us or work with the Brothers? But what about the evil Avia had sensed earlier? Was it possible that both were true — he’d been under a spell but was nevertheless evil? Could you be evil and be a Justice? I suppose if one were lawful it might still be a decent fit 🙁

He was likely not one of the doppelgangers, as they changed form when attacked and he had not. And now, having stabilized him and made him helpless, was dispatching him even an option? Did our morals compel us to turn him over to the authorities even it might result in our becoming outlaws?

How much time did we have before the man who escaped returned with reinforcements? Or worse, the city guard? If this Justice was corrupt, might others be too? If he was a victim of evil magic, might others be too?

We had no sure way of detecting his true intentions and we no longer believed his words. Sabin pointed out that if we wanted to wait just fifteen minutes, he could learn a spell which would detect the man’s thoughts. That might help us decide how to proceed. I tended to think the man might be bewitched, and so cast detect magic on his form. I detected two spells .. the strongest being an enchantment spell of some sort, and the second being an abjuration spell. If Olithar cast dispel magic, it would remove the enchantment. But I could not tell what spells he was specifically under; only their schools.

An enchantment spell could be a charm. And an abjuration spell could be thwarting our attempts to divine his intentions. While we discussed, Sabin studied. Finally, we concluded we would try to detect his thoughts and see if they aligned with whatever story he had.

Olithar cast dispel magic upon him. Sabin cast detect thoughts. And Kane first channelled energy to the group and then specifically healed Ironbrier.

I was able to tell the enchantment spell was gone, leaving only abjuration.

He shook his head as if to clear it. He looked at us, and looked aghast. He’d been charmed, he said, by Areesha. She had made him do horrible things, and … and … he could no longer show his face in this town. While he might be able to convince a court he was compelled to do these things against his will, his reputation would be shot. He would have to leave town. He suggested a deal: release him, give him 12 hours to put his affairs in order, and he would tell us everything he knew of Aleesha, including her defenses and where she currently was. She was behind the murders, though he didn’t say why. She was the one who had captured him while he was investigating, and then turned him into her tool. He’d cast a non-divination spell to stop her from finding him but it hadn’t worked.

And I know that spells like that could last as long as 24 hours, but spells from the same school could also be used to misdirect alignment. So again, he could be telling the truth .. or not. We could tell for sure in 24 hours but we’d be foolish to sit here that long.

Sabin quietly told us his thoughts matched his words. So now what?

We told Ironbrier we’d have to consider his situation, and retired to the other side of the room to have a good but quiet think.

The group was divided. We needed more information. Could one of the men that attacked us provide it? A few of us went downstairs to revive one of the men on the second floor and interrogate him, but he wouldn’t crack. He tried to make me FLEE! but failed, and began ranting on how we might win this battle but we’d lose the war, and then we’d be sorry we picked the wrong side, and … it got boring fast.

And so now, as I’d mentioned at the beginning, we sit with perhaps the most critical decision for our little party to be made. If we choose poorly, we may find ourselves doing the right thing but on the wrong side of the law. But are we doomed to that fate regardless? Should we just leave the carnage and the corpse of Ironbrier for the guard to find? Ironbrier presents a dilemma unlike any we’d faced before: release him, leave him, or kill him? There are some among us who cannot abide killing a helpless person, which he now is.

I think most of us are convinced he was indeed the evil entity that Avia had sensed, but is he now telling the truth with the enchantment removed? Was it a charm that he is now free from? Or was it some other magic that he had cast upon himself as protection or some sort of misdirection? Even with my admittedly limited knowledge of the schools of magic, I cannot think of an enchantment spell that could be used in any other way than to compel or control somebody so his story does have a hollow ring of truth to it.

Would we save an evil person to destroy a greater evil? Would evil betray us if we chose this option and thus destroy any hope of warding off the greater evil? Does evil imply not trustworthy? This decision could have a profound impact upon our future.

We arrived back in town, having dodged the undead birds as I previously described, and found our friends already in treatment. Here in town, their situation seemed much less dire, and it did not take long at all before they were completely cured.

We were unsure of what to do about the Misgivings, but one thing was clear: we were a little underprepared for what we’d run into there. So it was that the party decided to undergo a little extra training, ranging from one to four weeks in duration depending on the individual, during which we honed existing skills and learned a few new ones.

I myself was able to engage a master sorcerer and, within the space of three weeks, learn the spells of identify and mirror image, and improve my skills with magic devices, spellcraft, perception, and healing. I also took up the study of arcane knowledge, learning more about the origins of magic and different forms it may take. Conditioning and workouts improved my toughness, and some concentration techniques allowed me to better focus some of my spells. It was, if I may say, 300 gp well spent. Although I must admit, it wasn’t all that long ago that paying 300 gp for an education was entirely beyond my capability.

I’m proud of how I’ve done. I find myself relying more on my magic than my quarterstaff or claws these days. I guess that makes me more like Father.

The group went through the items and artifacts we’d uncovered and decided to sell a portion of it for living and training expenses. My share came to 414 gold, 2 silver, and 5 copper. Deducting my training expenses, I find myself still adding to my wealth, which now totals 668 gp, 6 sp, and 5 cp. I am by no means wealthy, but neither am I destitute.

With some of the group finishing earlier than others, it is not surprising that some had the time to undertake some more research related to the Misgivings after their study was done. The caretaker, we had learned, was named Roger Craysbee, and we thought he might have been able to tell us more of the manor. And well he might have … had he not succumbed to ghoul fever and been killed at our own hand upon arriving in the area! Well, greater good and all that I suppose.

Kane and Rigel asked around and it seems there have been no new ghoul outbreaks. Locally, we seem to have addressed the problem. We did discover that apparently there were some rather grisly murders in Magnimar – faced ripped off, symbols carved into the bodies, that sort of thing — within the last month. Word has been slow to spread about this because the authorities seem to be trying to control communications about this.

About a week after this, Kane, Rigel, and Avia decided to go to Magnimar and investigate the rumored murders. It is also possible they may find information about Alderin’s (hopefully still living) sisters there. The plan was for them to investigate while the rest completed their studies, and return in time for us all to decide what to do next. They left, conveniently, on 1 Kuthona.

Travel to Magnimar is 2-3 days, depending on how long you travel each day, and the pace you set. We expected the earliest they’d be back would be about a week, and the latest to be about two. Instead, after about a week we got what appeared to be a hastily written note, saying that on their trip there they’d seen some sort of demon horse and fought off snakes and that there was more to tell about the murders and we should come there rather than they coming back to Sandpoint.

So it was that upon the “graduation” of the last student, Olithar, Nolin, Sabin and myself headed south to Magnimar. It was the 15th of Kuthona as we set off.

Sunday, 15 Kuthona, 4707

Later that same day, we came across a bloody scene. There were three dead horses, and at least one dead human .. and six giant geckos partaking of the buffet. They did not seem vicious enough to have initiated the carnage, but rather seemed more like opportunistic scavengers.

In fact, I took a couple of steps towards them and stomped my feet and shouted, to see if they’d scatter. (I don’t think my companions agreed this was a clever test.) Nolin remained on his mount and the others readied their weapons. When the gecko closest to me took an awkward swipe at me, the lizard exterminators went to town. Olithar’s gleeful use of a fireball did little to win them over (and it turns out that cooked gecko really doesn’t smell all that savory.) Five of them eventually went down; a sixth got away at a comparatively leisurely pace. The only person injured by these large creatures was Sabin.

Inspecting the remains we found only

20gp
[230] wand (of knock, 18 charges)

We theorized these might have been traveling thieves (travelling no longer).

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and we arrived in Magnimar on 17 Kuthona.

Toilday, 17 Kuthona, 4707

Upon our arrival Avia, Kane, and Rigel greeted us and told us in more detail of their adventures.

Apparently on their way here, they were camped the first night when one of them heard a sound. Not too far away, perhaps a quarter mile or so, they saw a big horse coming over the crest of a hill. It stood up on its hind legs and made a scream unlike anything a horse makes. Creatures ran blindly away from it. It spread its wings (!) and flew up into the night. It had a tail as long as its body, if not longer. Thankfully it flew away from them, not towards them. Kane says it sort of matches up with the description of the Sandpoint Devil, considered by many (but now none in our group) to be something of a legend. It’s supposedly responsible for missing livestock and children.

They slept uneasily that night.

On their next night, Kane was on guard when he heard rustling. Instead of waking the others, he investigated, and almost got outnumbered by a small group of 6-8 foot snakes. After a skirmish, they disappeared and Kane sheepishly admitted they were “goblin snakes”.

The next day, 3 Kuthona, they had arrived in Magnimar. They were staying with Nolin’s parents, who had graciously opened up their home to their son’s friends. They entered from the NE gates and Nolin’s parents’ house was actually not too far from that gate, in a moderately affluent section of town. Successful merchants tend to characterize the residents in this part of town.

Nolin’s parents had no particular knowledge of the Foxglove sisters, but suggested that the census bureau may know of them. Kane and Rigel each cleverly but foolishly independently bribed the officials with 10gp to get them to reveal that they might want to look in the Marble district.

Once there, they and Avia when to a pub and bribed a barkeep 10gp (only once, this time) to learn that they seemed to be in Korvosa. But they also learned that Aldrin’s townhouse was in the Great Arch district.

It was about this time they thought it better for the group to come to Magnimar rather than for them to return to Sandpoint, and sent the cryptic note to us.

Over the intervening days they continued asking trying to find out more about both the Foxgloves and the murders. But the authorities were really clamping down, because the citizens were getting so nervous as to be almost riotous. Victims allegedly came from all walks of life (again, the official were making no official statements) which meant nobody felt safe. Word on the street was that there was about one a night, but it was clear after a couple of inquiries that we were not going to duplicate our teamwork with the Sandpoint constabulary. They really were being very tightlipped here, and any investigation would have to be without the benefit of official assistance or authority.

On the other hand, that can make the investigation go more smoothly too. Clearly the authorities in this town are not doing the citizenry any favors by withholding information.

Upon our arrival, Olithar was quick to check with the head of his order at the church, whom he knows well, but again found there was little information to be had.

We were filled in with the efforts of the other half of our group, and the full group proceeded to Aldrin’s townhouse. It appeared to have an enclosed garden in the back (enclosed by a wall) and seemed locked up. A decorative fountain out front was not running. Strangely, the windows on the ground floor were boarded up, in contrast to the other houses around it. This did not seem to be a disreputable section of town, and the boarded windows made it rather stand out. But they were not boarded at the front of the house, just the side and back. From the front, it looked just like any other of the townhouses on this street.

Nolin was uncomfortable about prying the boards off and breaking into the house, but when we produced the key we’d retrieved from the manor and found it fit into the lock on the back door, he decided that owning the key meant we had every right to enter the house, and rejoined us. Having pried the boards off the back door, and unlocking it, we cautiously entered what used to be the garden. It obviously hadn’t been tended for a while and was overgrown (although not really gone wild.) There was no evidence that anyone had been through the garden recently.

There was a door into what appeared to be a little sunroom, and all the windows here were also boarded over. We entered the sunroom. The room was cold (boarded windows; no sunlight!) and stale smelling. Another door led into the main part of the house and was not locked.

This appeared to be the kitchen. A small pantry was found to the north, and doors led to the north and south. To the south was a study, but it appeared to have been ransacked. The chair was turned over, and the drawers on the desk were open with papers scattered around. Avia turned on her evil radar and announced quietly that there was evil to the east and north.

Sabin, Kane, and Avia went east — and found, much to their surprise, that Aldrin and Aiesha were seated their in the lounge, rising to their feet as the group entered. “So nice to see you. Have you eaten? We can make you some lunch.” They seemed utterly human but Avia confirmed again they were evil. A shout from the kitchen seemed to confirm that something evil might be entering the kitchen — Nolin had opened the door to the north only to find a horrible, largish creature on the other side, and shut the door.

Meanwhile, Aldrin was continuing the small talk and it seemed that this Aldrin did not know a) he was dead, and b) his dog was dead, or c) who we really were. Finally Olithar interrupted with “How long have you been evil?” and Aldrin replied “that’s a rude question.” And the melee began. Both Aldrin and Aiesha rippled a bit before becoming creatures that, we learned later when we compared corpses, were similar to the one that had decided to come after Nolin in the kitchen.

Olithar, Avia, Kane, and Sabin battled the two in the lounge, while Nolin, myself, and Rigel battled the one in the kitchen. They were awfully strong, and Olithar and Nolin both took damage before the creatures were put to rest. I used magic missiles to work on the creature in the kitchen, to good effect.

At the completion of this battle, Avia turned on her radar again and found no more evil within range. We discussed what these creatures may have been here for and why they took the shapes they did, but decided the answer must lie within the house somewhere. All the rooms on the first floor, including the trophy room from which the third creature had emerged, appeared tossed and thoroughly searched. We went upstairs.

On the second floor we found a hallway, a guest bedroom, an empty corridor (?!) and a library (with the floor, of course, full of tossed and thrashed books).

On the third and highest floor we found a master bedroom and another study. We observed from the dust that nobody had been here for about a couple of months, so the creatures we fought must have stayed downstairs. Were they responsible for any of the murders in town? What WAS their purpose? I guess we won’t know. Rigel went to search the study but it was who Kane noticed something unusual about two lion heads on the mantle of the fireplace. On the left lion, the back of the throat had a little hole. Rigel found that the lionhead key we got from the manor fit perfectly. The right lion head went click and we found the head now bent back. This is a bag of 200 platinum pieces in it and a shallow wooden case with legal papers in it and a thin black ledger.

The legal papers were with regard to the manor. 2/3 of the house was paid for by the Foxgloves; 1/3 by the Brothers. Over the last three months, payments for “Aiesha’s trip to Absalon” of 200 gp per week were made at the Brothers 7 Mill. A month and a half ago was the last payment … around the time of Aldrin’s death. The entries look to my untrained eye to be made by Aldrin. Who did the money belong to? What was this trip — Aiesha was dead too and must have been during the time these payments were being made. Was this some sort of code phrase or was it really planning for some sort of trip? Absalon is months away by travel, unless one goes by magic.

So now we sit in a building with three corpses and an enigma, and think.

Wealday, 13 Neth

I note that before retiring for the evening, Olithar cast magic upon Nolin and Rigel which seemed to improve their health somewhat. It was not healing of the usual sort, but somehow seemed to affect their whole body and vitality. He said it was a “restore” of some sort but seemed dismayed that he could do so little, mumbling to himself that if only he were more accomplished he could do so much better and apologizing for that being all he can do.

All that said, it seemed quite remarkable to me. While I still believe that the concept of deities is simply a means by which clerics focus their magical energies, it is clear that their faith in these imaginary entities is strong and is of great aid to them in their working of magic.

Oathday, 14 Neth

We awoke where we expected to, in the room that Sabin had identified as an arcane workshop. Now that he points them out to me I can see the features which mark it as such, although I myself had never been inside one until now. Reading about them is very different from seeing them (much like undead creatures.)

It is also apparent, now that we’ve read about him and seen a portrait of him, that the gaunt man depicted in the artwork here is, in fact, Vorel Foxglove.

There were books on what appeared to be necromancy in the room, and Rigel announced she was going to check them out. When she touched one, however, she had a vision of Vorel drinking a potion and apparently transforming into a lich. At the same time, however, she felt a strong rage at his doing this to his family.

From our point of view, however, her attention simply seemed to leave us for a moment before focus returned to her eyes and she relayed her story. At least this vision didn’t have her killing us or herself like some of these had. I quickly cast detect magic on the books, but they did not seem magic. I am puzzled about how these magical effects can take place without their being any apparent magic about. I’ll bet if Father were here, he’d have an explanation.

Ah, well now, I mustn’t be wishing for things that can’t be. The whole point of my lengthy trip was to improve and expand the scope of my powers. And I can feel that happening, although I wish Father had told me more of the process. “Each in the family has had to feel it for themselves,” he had said. “As your power grows, so must your control.”

We took the 10 necromancy books with us, although most are not in good shape because of mold and rot.

From this point forward, Rigel seemed a little on edge. She was constantly searching doors, locks, even bare areas of the floor searching for traps. That’s not a bad thing I suppose, but it seemed a little obsessive.

We entered the corridor and past another door we found a stairs down to a broken floor. It seems that the floor here had been broken through with pickaxes, revealing a much older stairway that led down. From the shaft came a foul stench like rotting meat.

Olithar announced he was closing the iron door behind us, primarily to prevent the rats from following us should then reenter this area. But unexpectedly, Avia drew her weapon and started thrashing around. More startlingly, red weals began to appear on her flesh even though there was no visible combatant. When she finally sat down, panting, she looked like she’d taken on ten men, with injuries to show for it. She was bleeding and in need of healing; whatever vision she’d had had been very real to her.

Olithar quickly moved to her and healed her a remarkable amount. While he as doing that, she described her experience. “I saw Aldrin Foxglove,” she explained, “and he was clawing at the floor. ‘For you, for you,'” he kept repeating. When he finally broke through, a host of ghouls had streamed from the hole and, in her vision, attacked her.

A bit of history? Or harbinger of things to come? I cast mage armor upon myself (as did Sabin) just to be safe. And the group descended, about 80 feet.

This led to a limestone cavern, dripping with water, and green and dark blue mold. Bones were scattered about. There lay before us three paths, and a rhythmic, pulsing sound emanated from all three. The one to the southwest appeared to be newer. The northwest and northern passages seemed as though they might connect and loop. We advanced slowly into the NW passage.

We had not gone far before we observed a ghoul with his back to a wall. And then we noticed another, and another .. and we flung ourselves into battle. I think there were 5 that we took out, at least initially. All told, I think 8 of them attacked our party. Avia, of course, was out in front taking them down, but my flaming sphere was doing some damage too!

The threat from the ghouls removed, Avia and Sabin followed the corridor a short ways to a large, sunken pool. It was in a cathedral like cavern, at least 30 feet high down to a pool of what smelled like sea water 50 feet below. Rivulets of water emerged from some gaps in the rocks and cascaded down to the pool. What appeared to be a small (6’ wide at most) island appeared to one side of the pool. It looked like it could be reached by a careful jump from shore, if desired. A slippery looking path spiraled down to the water’s edge. The pool appeared to be sloshing slightly, so it probably had access to the sea outside, and was tidal in nature.

There appeared to be two doors about across from where we stood, about halfway down to the water. Both were shut. From our vantage point and all around us, we could see bones and remains strewn about. The ghouls had obviously been here for some time. The stench was strong.

I must admit, about this time, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d signed up for. Working in the town, and helping disperse the goblin menace, now that’s what I had in mind. This area of necromancy and undead left me out of my element. Thank Go — I mean goodness for my flaming sphere. Fire is to undead like … like .. water to a cube of sugar. They practically dissolve in it, as near as I can tell.

We proceeded to the first door, and found it unlocked. We entered carefully.

The smell in here was especially strong. Initially upon entering we noticed the odd appearance of decor — a table, a large leather chair facing away from us, and a painting. Upon the wall was a large pattern of fungus or mold that almost looked like it had grown over a man. But when looked closely, the table was covered with crystal and maggots; the arms of the chair were sticky and red with blood, and the fungus made several of our party retch uncontrollably.

Before we could get a good look at the painting, we were “greeted” by a likeness of Aldrin Foxglove, sitting in the chair. Turning the chair around and looking right at Avia, it exclaimed “You’ve come to me! Now let’s consummate our hunger!” I merely remarked that he seemed a changed man, when his face seemed to twist in rage, and he rose as if to attack.

Avia struck him full on, and although he was clearly still a ghoul, his face lost its anger and he claimed “the hurter” was gone. “His lordship is at your mercy,” he sobbed.

Olithar cast bless upon us all and asked Aldrin “What are you doing down here?”

“I was doing the errands of the Brothers,” he responded. “They wanted to collect rats and fungus and find out about disease.”

I felt at unease, and threw a color spray such that it got both Aldrin and the evil moss wall. There was no reaction from either.

Avia confirmed that Aldrin was still evil, and that the fungus was very evil. Suddenly, Sabin announced that the fungus was actually his shadow, and made as if to eat it — as if anybody could understand the connection between the two statements. But before anyone could make a move to stop him, he caught himself in mid-reach, and seemed to shake it off.

At the same time Aldrin underwent a change again and he no longer looked so pitiful. If anything, he looked piteous. “you may call me the Skinsaw Man!” he exclaimed. He placed a mask over his face and his visage contorted … and then he looked like Avia.

I cast a flaming sphere on him. He seemed adept at dodging it, however. Avia, probably standing nearest to him, was incensed at seeing him assume her face and lashed out at him viciously. Sabin, too, was wicked with his weapon. Aldrin got a couple of attacks in on Avia that wounded her gravely, but nothing a cleric couldn’t help with. Giving up on the flame, I hit him with a couple of magic missiles and after the beating that he’d already taken from Sabin and Avia, that took the last vestiges of life from him. The Skinsaw Man quickly dissolved to nothing but a pile of rotted flesh and smelly clothes.

Olithar tried burning the “mold man” with oil and while it successfully burned, it did nothing to dispel the evil, according to Avia, other than to disperse it around the room as if it was now borne by the smoke.

The portrait was originally of Aiesha, but Aldrin had grotesquely altered it with blood and other gore to make it look more like Avia. In addition, there was a small collection of Avia-related bits: a used vial, a bit of her hair, a note she’d written. There were speculative drawings he’d made of her … suffice it to say that Avia felt Aldrin had disintegrated far too soon for her wrath to have been fully demonstrated.

From the room, we took a +1 war razor [204], and a stalker’s mask [207] which was made from human skin. Were one to wear it, one would find they could assume the face of a particular target, and make themselves faint and less detectable, making it easier to hide. They also would find it easier to attack the person whose face it was resembling. There was a ring of jumping [205], a +1 ring of protection [206], a cameo brooch with a picture of Avia in it (golden, with a gemstone) [208] and a small iron key [209]. We also picked up the broken, seven sided box [203] which we believe was used during the elder Foxglove’s failed attempt to lichify.

We inspected the pool of water but found nothing of note. The water appeared to be fairly deep. By our rough calculations, the water should not be here (and should not be tidal) as we thought we’d only descended about half the distance to the sea. But we found nothing to explain this apparent discrepancy.

Returning to the stairway by which we’d entered, Kane showed Olithar the pickaxes. Although most were destroyed or rotted, one seemed to still be in good condition. We identified it as a magic, +1 pickaxe. The diggings near the pickaxes apppeared to be recent in the sense of within the last few months, while much of the area down here seemed much older.

As we went to explore the last passage from the stairway and found more remains, some of which appeared to be human. Holding our noses, we did find among the bones a pearl ring [211], an adamantine long sword [212] and a hat of disguise [213]. While deciding how to best split these up we heard a thump from further down the passage, and upon investigating discovered that a large bat had apparently descended down an opening in the ceiling. It too seemed to be possessed of some sort of undeadness because it proved difficult to dispatch. But Avia’s and Sabin’s weapons, and my magic missiles again proved persuasive. Eight on one is overwhelming odds and we did succeed at making it a corpse again. Kane did find himself immobilized at one point, but the effect was temporary.

Thinking of the terrain above us, we concluded that the opening thru which it had descended must be the old well. But since the well went no deeper than this, that implies that at one time there was water here, and it was not the sea water we’d found in the pool but fresh water. What had driven the water away? Yet another puzzle.

We returned to the main hall to investigate the moldy stairway that seemed to be located over the stairway we’d just discovered. While we didn’t find any apparent connection, both Nolin and I smelled something burning. And faster than you could say “another fatal illusion” I was battling a manticore. Although it was very real to me, and I took damage from its tail, an instant later it was again a fake manticore before me. Olithar healed me, and discussion turned to what else we could do here.

The house was still full of mold and evil things, but it seemed beyond us to cure its condition. We still had two party members suffering from the effect of spore-exploding paintings, and they would probably be served best by getting them back to town. But there was the problem of the ever-vigilant undead swarms of crows sitting outside, which seemed intent on extending our stay. And it seemed there were still a few mysteries to solve here as well.

We went outside to inspect the cliff. None of us felt particularly competent at judging heights, but felt it was about 300 feet. We then tied together our ropes and went back down to the pool, dropping it over the side weighted with a rock, and we could tell that the bottom of the pool roughly was at sea level. This still didn’t explain why the water would rise so high, but there is obviously still magic in place here and that must be part of it.

On the way back, we stopped by briefly in Aldrin’s room and found that the mold was beginning to reform the “mold man” lump. That was disconcerting but, apparently, harmless to us.

We returned to the Foxglove family journals trying to understand better if there was something more we could do here by studying the history of the place. We learned:

• Rogers Craysbee was the caretaker of the manor during the times it was deserted — he may be of use in determining what’s been happening.

• The manor is about 80 years old and has always been in the Foxglove family. Local people started calling it The Misgivings because of the way it made them feel. There were reports of a huge batwinged devil.

• It was originally built by Vorel, who lived in it over 20 years. It was empty for about that long again before Aldrin’s parents moved in. It went empty again when they killed themselves about 40 years ago and now Aldrin had returned to a bad end.

• Mention was made of the Brothers of the Seven. Their meetings had been hosted at the house from time to time, and perhaps most oddly, the construction of the house had been funded by the Brothers, and after 100 years of ownership, the house and lands would revert to them.

It was decided that we would stay one more night and then try to get past the crows and return to Sandpoint.

Fireday, 15 Neth

Naught happened overnight, and so it was that in the morning, Olithar cast hide from undead upon all of us plus Nolin’s horse. Nolin and Rigel, being still affected by the strange disease, took the horse and left knowing they’d get to Sandpoint faster. A couple of flocks of crows noted them, but they could not fly faster than a galloping horse and soon fell behind. We, on the other hand, ran away to the northwest and none of the remaining flocks saw us. Reaching the road, we too turned to Sandpoint.

Which is where we are now. If ever one needed proof of evil in the world, The Misgivings is the place to obtain it. Things undead, disease, and harmful apparitions underscore that. Had Father told me of these things, I think I’d have … well, no, I wouldn’t have. I’d have dreaded them and perhaps not been so eager to “seek adventure” but I would have still ventured forth. I would still have made my way to Sandpoint and still have met up with those I now mostly consider my friends.

At least, that’s what I’d like to think, and we’ll never know different now.

Wealday, Neth 13

I’m disappointed that through an unfortunate accident, a few pages of my journal got a little wet and so my last entries are now smudged and unreadable. I must be more careful to close my journal and wrap it in something absorbent to avoid such mishaps in the future.

So to recap briefly, today I returned from a trip back to Sandpoint (or thereabouts) having taken a man we found to be suffering from ghoul disease to the cathedral for healing. When I returned, the party had decided to go to the MisGivings, which is the Foxglove family manor. Although I’ve very sure when we arrived that there were no animals of note visible, now that we want to leave there seems to be hundreds, maybe thousands of crows or ravens dangerously sitting outside the door, inviting us to try. Just try. Anyone getting too close to them — or too far from the house — seems to be an invitation for them to not-too-subtly herd the person back to the house.

But I’m ahead of myself. Much has happened since we arrived here.

We were in the entry hall, which apparently also served as the dining area, when a random check for magic objects detected that the monkey’s head with a rope/chain coming out of its mouth was in fact magic. However, unlike a shiny urn that radiates magic, or a dusty lamp, or a nice shield, nobody seemed particularly eager to go use the monkey. I think it is true that we prejudge the nature of magic by the vessel that contains it. Something shiny, clean and bright radiating magic will be picked up, touched, or handled before something dingy, grungy, or decayed looking. I shall have to remember that if ever I have cause to set a trap, or have cause to hide some magic.

In any case, this room has a stocked bookcase. Among the volumes I found were three detailing a history of the Foxglove family. This was more of a handwritten family history than a published reference book, and I spent a few moments reading the various entries. I noted a couple of things:

1) The first volume begins in 4620, or almost 90 years ago. While this is clearly not an ancient family history, it is surprising that a record of only 90 years would take three volumes. There must be significant detail here.
2) Judging from what little I’ve seen of his handwriting, and from the observations of the writer, the history appears to end with entries of Aldrin’s.
3) He speaks of Aiesha, whom he would marry, within the last year.
4) A cryptic note at the beginning, when the homestead was being located, mentioned that “the Brothers may help.”

While the books on this bookcase were interesting, upon entering the next room we discovered an entire room with books, floor to ceiling. And we also discovered many of them seem to be afflicted with mildew. Those of us who appreciate books find this to be a pity, such a fine library falling into such disrepair. There was a fine looking red and gold scarf [200] near an overturned chair. Oddly, the scarf showed no mold. A book of Varysian history lie open on the floor. In the fireplace, a stone bookend lie smashed into fragments.

Kane walked into the room and seemed to pantomime choking. This would have been odd enough, except it was accentuated by the scarf leaping from the floor and wrapping against his throat. We barely had time to rush forward before he was whipping the scarf away and panting.

Although we heard nothing, Kane had distinctly heard a woman’s scream. As the scarf pulled tightly against his throat, he had a vision of Aldrin before him, clearly angry, and his hand twisting the scarf tightly against Kane’s throat. Then it passed.

Olithar opened the drapes (also mildewy or moldy) to let in some light. We detected no magic, but Avia did momentarily sense some evil in the room, but it faded quickly. She could not tell to where it may have gone. We found it odd that there was no apparent source of moisture in the room that would explain the mildew.

We examined the bookend, and discovered that it had what appeared to be dried blood and hair, and maybe even skull fragments. Did Aldrin kill his fiancee/wife in this room? What powerful force caused that to be re-enacted? Or was this all for our consumption, to get us to believe that Aldrin had done this? After all, it seems certain we WERE expected to come here.

At this point, we just didn’t know.

So the party moved into another room off the dining room, which turned out to be something of a lounge or sitting room. It was rather smallish, but had some a large couch, and of course another fireplace. The couch, unfortunately, seemed to have some sort of white fungus on it. Rigel lifted it with her foot, but nothing seemed under it or around it. As Rigel examined the fireplace, several odd things happened at once.

First, she noted there was a movement of dust around the fireplace, as though somebody other than Rigel was moving near there. Second, Avia announced the presence of evil. At the same time, in case there was something corporeal and invisible, I threw down a caltrop. Some later said they heard a whispered “Laurie”, but I didn’t. I just knew with utter conviction, that it was dangerous to be there. I grabbed Rigel and told her we needed to leave — SHE needed to leave. She was trying to go check out another room to the west. I remember thinking, I need to get my daughter out of the house before it affected her too. She was resisting, arguing, typical for a child. Why wouldn’t she just listen to her mother? There wasn’t time for a discussion or an argument! How long would it take before she wandered down to the basement and discovered it? That mustn’t happen!

And as I grabbed her again with greater resolve, the memory faded. Olithar had cast remove fear upon me, but we still don’t know if that had an effect or if the effect wore off on its own. I found myself facing a perplexed but increasingly agitated Rigel, who was reaching for one of the 1379 knives she always has somewhere on her body, and I quickly released her, looking around at the party. I think it was Kane who said, “It happened to you this time, didn’t it?” I nodded, and described my experience.

We did go inspect the room to the west, which appeared to be a bathroom or at least a cleaning room. There was a washbin that had a decidedly diseased rat in it, unable to climb out. It was eyeless and clearly in distress. Nolin killed it.

We continued to the room in the NW corner of this floor. This appeared to be a parlor of sorts, with a remarkably preserved piano. The rest of the room showed extensive decay and rot; it made the piano stand out all the more. We opened the double doors to the outside to let some fresh air in. Olithar played a simple tune on the piano and announced with some surprise that it appeared to be in perfect tune! It was at this time that we noticed Kane’s eyes had glazed over a bit and he started swaying, almost as if dancing. Then he abruptly returned to us.

He’d had another vision. In his vision, he’d been dancing with a beautiful woman. She changed as they danced, with bruises appearing on her neck first, then deepening as her eyes bulged. Finally her lips turned blue and she’d dropped to the ground, a pile of dust, as the vision ended. Had this been Aiesha?

We may have been called to this house explicitly, presumably to face some evil entitye, but the house was also trying to talk to us. There were tragedies that had occurred here, some of them, quite possibly, fairly recently. How long had this house been cursed? And what precipitated it? Were the players we were seeing evil themselves, or also victims of some evil influence? Curses don’t just drop out of the sky, and ordinary people don’t wake up one day and decide to kill a family member.

It was time, we decided, to go upstairs. We’d explored everything on the ground floor. While some wanted to go see what was in the basement that I’d wanted to keep “Laurie” away from, we figured it more prudent to make sure nothing corporeal could be following us down.

Near the top of the stairs, we found a hallway with several doors. We opened the one nearest us and entered.

There appeared to be a child sized bed, and a toybox, filled with toys suitable for a young boy. While it’s not clear who may have occupied this room, it seems fair to assume it was at least a young boy. About half the people hear a mournful sobbing. It was sorrowful, but none of us had the reaction that Avia did. Our paladin ran into the fireplace and cowered, trembling. We just stared in utter surprise. After a short time she sheepishly rose from the fireplace, took command of her countenance again, and reported that for a short time she’d thought she was Aldrin. He had run in fear from his parents. His father was trying to kill his mother, and his mother was trying to kill him. He rememberes his father had bulging eyes.

This lent a little more credence to the possibility that Aldrin was already dead, but did little more to solve the mystery of the MisGivings.

We continued north in the hall and entered the room to the right. This should have been the room above the room downstairs that had had the odd stained glass pictures. We were not disappointed. This room had

1 glass of a pale ghostly scropion
1 glass of a gaunt man holding out his arms while a dozen bats hung from them
1 glass of a moth with a skull like pattern on his wings
1 glass of a tangle of dull green plants with bell-shaped flowers
1 glass of a young maiden sitting beside a well while a dog-sized spider dropped beside her

It was Kane who recognized these were all depictions of ingredients common to necromancy spells.

Sabin remarked that these could be used to create an apotheosis; that is, turning one’s self into a lich. And with that statement, some of the pieces fell into place. I suspect what we see here is the end result of an evil spell gone awry. One of Aldrin’s ancestors, perhaps, had dabbled in the dark arts and created something instead that consumed this home or this land.

We went across the hall into what turned out to be a gallery. Here hung several portraits. They were dusty and covered with cobwebs and some mold. Olithar began to uncover them. Upon one wall we found

• a tall middleaged man – VOREL FOXGLOVE. Dark hair, blue eyes, blue noble clothes
• a stern faced woman with flex of gray – KASANDRA FOXGLOVE. brunette, blue dress
• a little girl – LAURIE FOXGLOVE.

All these were about the same size, and appear to have been done at about the same period in time. On the south wall, we found

• TREVOR FOXGLOVE – tall, thin, narrow face, thin mustache
• CYRLIE FOXGLOVE – long red hair, young woman
• ALDRIN FOXGLOVE – a boy child
• SENDELI FOXGLOVE – a girl child
• ZEVA FOXGLOVE – a girl child

As Olithar uncovered Zeva’s portrait, which did seem especially obscured, a dramatic change occurred. The room immediately chilled, to the point where we could see our breaths. And all but two of the portraits turned into ghastly versions of themselves.

Kasanda and Laurie slumped into misshapen tumor-ridden corpses. Trevor displayed a long cut upon his throat, with blood running down his chest. Cyrlie blackened and charred, and appeared to develop many broken bones. Aldrin’s hair fell out, and his face contorted into a ghoul like appearance.

And worst of all, Vorel’s picture rapidly developed a spreading mold, filling the room cloudily with a muffled explosion.

Cyrlie and Sendeli were unaffected, and that suggested to us that to this day, they were still unaffected. We wondered if they were fated to die, or if by avoiding this place they had managed to dodge their fate.

Moments later the portraits were back to normal, although the air was still thick with a moldy dust. This was not an illusion like some of the other visions seemed to be; it was magic, and it had really happened. Every one of us saw it. And worse, Nolin and Rigel thought they saw a mild rash on their skin, although we saw nothing. We hoped it was an active imagination.

We exited the gallery and entered the west most room. This too seemed to be a bedroom, but contained naught but a desk. Olithar was inspecting the desk, which had a dark stain on it, when he picked up a fragment of wood and stared at it. For a moment he hesitated and before we could do anything, he put it back down.

He’d just had a vision where he’d picked up a dagger, not a piece of wood. In his mind, he had just killed the person he loved most, and wanted nothing more than to end his own life. Whether thru luck or fortitude we’ll never know, but Olithar was able to resist the urge and put the “dagger” down. Had he taken action against himself he probably would have hurt himself badly before we intervened. While the wood was not a dagger, it did have a dull point to it.

We theorized this was Trevor’s room, judging from the wound that appeared on his painting, and that he had killed his wife and burned her body before tossing it over the cliff. Then he’d killed himself.

We resolved to watch each other more closely as we explored. There was no telling when one of us might become a danger to ourselves or the rest of us.

We entered a room to the northeast, only to find the whole room caked with a spongy green layer of green-black mold. Many of us heard a child’s voice ask, “What’s that on your face mommy?” And with that sound, Sabin began clawing at his own face. He was able to hurt himself some before we restrained him and he came around. We theorized that Kasanda and Laurie had met their end this way.

We entered the room to the north. Like downstairs, it was a washroom.

Lastly, the room to the NW found a smashed bed and the walls and paintings all slashed. One painting was intact, but turned around. We heard a shrill angry woman’s voice say “What DO you get into in the damp below?” Rigel looked dizzy and staggered for a moment before charging at Avia, of all people. Her dagger caught a surprised Avia, who then easily subdued her until the moment passed. Rigel guiltily put away her dagger as Olithar turned the picture around. We recognized it as Aiesha. While there is some mold in this room, the dust here appears to have accumulated over months, perhaps, not years.

Having explored every room on this floor, it was time to go up again.

The stairs exited in a workroom, which appeared to have a leaky room because there were several pots and urns spread about to catch dripping water. There were woodworking and carpentry tools here, none in particularly good shape.

Entering the hallway, we found several storerooms and closets. Then we heard an unmistakable scream of horror and pain from the end of the hall.

The door on the right was locked, and seemed to be from where the scream had come. Rigel worked the lock while we heard a sobbing noise from inside. Finally, with Kane’s aid, Rigel was able to unlock the door. Avia charged inside.

This seemed to be a bedroom. It was cold and damp, and there was a mold encrusted chimney. A mirror angled toward the window, and sitting in front of the mirror was a woman gently rocking. She looked a bit like Aiesha might have looked if she were rotting. There was a bedsheet wrapped around her. The face may have been contorted in fury or fear.

Somebody, I think Avia, shattered the mirror, and she almost seemed to recover her senses. She screamed, “Aldrin, I can smell your fear! You’d be in my arms soon!” Then she let out a shriek which had Rigel running off and cowering in fear. We thought briefly about letting her lead us to Aldrin but too late — we were blocking the door and hallway and she’d already grabbed Nolin and given him a good squeeze. It actually hurt him quite badly; she was not all she seemed. I lit her up with a couple of magic missiles but she was focused on Nolin. She squeezed harder as Avia beat on her mightily. Between four of us beating on her, we eventually killed her, and none too soon for Nolin. And when Aiesha died, there was no corpse. Most of her sort of melted into the floor. Avia blessed the mess.

We examined the other rooms up there and the thing of note was that I did find two scrollcases in one of the rooms. In that same room, Olithar had another “experience”, wherein he strongly remembered feeling excited about his expectations for his life, but having to set all that on the shelf because he had to marry that harpy. Feelings of resentment, bitter disappointment, and regret filled him, but he again managed to gain control over them. Even so, the feeling of what could have been was strong to him.

The scrolls I picked up were [201] lightning bolt, and [202] keen edge.

The last room had two notable stained glass windows like its companions below. One was a dark-haired woman with pale skin and green eyes. She was wearing red and black clothing and wielding a jagged iron staff. The other had a hole in it that was covered by canvas, but it appeared slightly burned as though something had been set alight and gone through.

There was a trap door above us, and Nolin was able to repair the ropes and pulleys used to open it. Gaining access was anticlimatic. We climbed down and discussed our plans.

Before going down to the basemen, we thought we might rest up and regain our spells. Nobody thought it would be smart or clever to stay in the house, so we resolved to go up the road a mile or three. And that’s when we found a large number of birds had an uncharacteristic interest in us. And that’s where we came in, above.

And so it is during my watch that I am writing this entry. Despite the birds, we decided it was safer to sleep outside than in. And much to our relief and surprise, nothing unusual happened.

Oathday, 14 Neth

Bad news. The marks on Nolin and Rigel are now visible to us too, and they are beginning to show signs of tumors and pustules. They need attention ASAP. We need to resolve this so that we can get them back to town.

So we reentered the house, and headed for the downstairs. We find there a kitchen, but it too is in disrepair and exhibits molds and rat droppings. There are large cracks in the basement — about a foot wide — which would adequately explain the rats. And in fact, we were able to hear the movement of a bunch of what we can only assume were rats, coming to greet us. A flask of oil and a flame served to barricade the entrance, but that would only last for so long.

We quickly began exploring, and discovered one room with some beds and the pantry, which seemed filled with as many rats as we had found birds outside. We quickly closed that door.

We found a wine cellar, with naught but broken bottles. To the south, we finally found a hallway which led to a locked iron door. After much effort, Rigel and Kane were able to open it. This room would be beneath the rooms with stained glass windows in them, above us, and this one did not disappoint.

There was one window of a thin man drinking a green potion. And another of a thin man diseased and decayed as if dead for several weeks. Sabin offered that this had the look of an arcane workshop. There were three iron bird cages, each holding a corpse of a rat.

We have not yet found Aldrin or for that matter anything large an evil down here, but we’ve also not yet explored all the rooms. I hope this journal survives me if I do not.

== Toilday, Neth 12 ==

Today we discovered undead things were hanging around the insane asylum. Or possibly lunatics were bothering the undead, but it appeared more the former than the latter. Nevertheless, just to be safe, we bound up the insane guy we came to see and I put him uncomfortably on a horse and took him against his will to Sandpoint, where Nothing Odd Ever Happens. We told him we might be able to make him feel better there; that always quiets them for a while. Father Zantus always knows what to do with our less advantaged friends.

I had a good dinner in a soft bed. Wonder what the rest are doing?

== Wealday, Neth 13 ==

Got up early, took a refreshing shower, and felt clean and ready to meet the day. Ah, it’s good to be alive. Retrieved the horse and returned to the party.

Met up with the rest of the party, having left our patient in Sandpoint to heaven only knows what sort of horror of “treatments”. I told him with great sincerity, “you’re now in your happy place” and he stared at me in such a manner that I think he may have believed me, or wished me dead — the expressions are so similar.

And having returned, I see that sure enough, with the insane guy gone, all the undead are much more quiet. It may have just been a neighbor noise issue. I know he was annoying. Could he really been so disruptive so as to literally wake the dead? I suppose that phrase had to come from somewhere.

So, using the key one of the undead gave us, we went over to the Amityville Horror house and looked around. Our paladin gave the obligatory “I sense evil” soliloquy and then we looked around a bit while soaking up the ambience. We found darkness and severed animal heads and mold, but no walls with “redrum” written upon them. Once we were thoroughly disheartened, we took a break and wrote in our journals as our therapists have suggested we do whenever we’re feeling down.

Spirits raised, I’m now pumped to look at more depressing stuff.

Sunday, 3 Neth

After much discussion among ourselves, we determined the highest level of comfort seemed to be reached with everyone maintaining their own finances. We shall sell off much of the items we’d recovered and then split the proceeds evenly. If a weapon or armor or magical item is found that somebody else wants to carry or use, they can make a case that it is a ‘group item’ and ought not count against their share, or failing that, have the value of that item deducted from their share.

Things like healing potions and magic weapons we have generally agreed benefit the group as a whole even if wielded or used by only one person at a time, so they have an almost automatic exclusion from group sales. We do not have enough healing potions to have one per person at this time, and while my quarterstaff skills are indeed impressive, those wielding edged weapons are generally closer to the front lines and even more impressive in their ability to slice and dice foes, and it is no small surprise they also tend to be in greater need of healing. I was, however, granted a silver dagger [107] as I do have skill with a dagger, and silver weapons sometimes serve a useful purpose.

It was in the midst of this accounting that we learned Sedgewick was leaving us. He did do us the courtesy of letting us know. Shalelu, the ranger elf, had mentioned something of undead in Magnimar to him and quicker than you could say “ooo, shiny” he was off with her to go score another original tail — oops, I mean original tale, and song.

So we had one less share to allocate so while it was sad to see him go (Rigel seemed particularly affected by his leaving), it did mean a little more for the rest of us. We did decide to allocat one share of the proceeds for ‘group purposes’ which is to say the healing potions I spoke of. If we are wildly successful, it may someday be enough to buy larger equipment like carts or the like. This time, we bought 3 cure moderate wounds potions [177][178][179] at 800gp total and that used up all but 16.8 gp.

Besides, since learning the additional spells I have less need of the weapon physical; a thing I think I will grow to appreciate as time passes. But I get ahead of myself.

My share was 816 gold, 8 silver (or the equivalent, at least.) Add that to the money I already had and I appear to be a rich man indeed. I need to consider how best to carry such wealth around with me. If carried all in coin, it weighs me down some 16 pounds! But some things constrained to reduce this problem for me.

For one thing, I’ve known for some time that I wanted to consult with other sorcerors to learn more spells. It’s not going to just happen one day that I wake up with a new spell, so this newfound wealth provided me the means to seek out a … well, perhaps not a master, but more of a mentor. A paid mentor, of course, but Elgin charged a fair price of 100gp per week, which covered materials, a solid but utilitarian lunch on Moonday, Wealday, and Fireday, and even, I suppose, repairing the bit of fire damage his laboratory suffered as I practiced new spells.

But I can say that after 3 weeks and 300 gp, I do now exhibit a hesitant mastery of the spells detect poison, mending, mage armor, color spray, and flaming sphere in addition to my others. And as with my other fire spell, the flaming sphere seems to burn a little hotter than one might expect. I did not reveal all my secrets to Elgin, but being a sorceror himself he did raise his eyebrows and remark, “I suspect there are some scales in your heritage,” but said nothing again on the subject.

I also bought for myself a better distance weapon than a sling. It’s not fancy, but at least my heavy crossbow [182] might actually hurt something physically rather than emotionally (“mommy, that man threw sling pellets at me and almost got me in the eye”). After all that, my funds were down to 516.8gp – 50gp – 2gp for some bolts + 90gp I had previously for a total of 554.8 gp. Still richer than I’ve felt in a while.

That man Foxglove still is taken with our group and wants to come along sometime. I’ve not been rude to him, but several others in the group think that even socializing with him is a waste of our time. Perhaps so, but my father raised me better. I’ll make no promises but see no harm in an occasional conversation.

Others in the group had also taken some time to find trainers/mentors and improved their skills. So it was we all met together again at roughly the same time to return to Thistletop and deal with some unfinished business.

We arrived without incident, although we did find that the “bramble camp” appeared to have been used and there actually was a few goblin bodies there. Oddly, they were not Thistletop clan. (I’m actually able to recognize this sort of thing now.) But we hadn’t seem these markings before.

The bridge was still down, as we left it. We thought about camping here but felt that Thistletop was much more defensible in case of attack, and unanimously agreed to raise the bridge and enter the “fortress”.

This was done without any trouble; Kane and Nolin climbed up with ropes and we restored the bridge. The area around and in the fortress appeared undisturbed.

Olithar was going on and on about something with his maps, and we found out why it pays to have an anal — I mean, detail oriented cleric along. His map seemed to indicate a room or closet or something which seemed to have no door. Since this was close to the, ahem, bathroom, the room with the wall we wanted to search had a less than favorable coating on it, but Olithar and Kane worked their priestly spells to purify the area. Upon an intense search Rigel did find an entrance, and there was a chest behind this door. Rigel checked for a trap, found none, then picked the lock and managed to dodge the trap she didn’t see 🙂

The chest was old, pre-Nualia for sure. Upon opening it we found a giant pile of coins, and items. A treasure chest to be sure.

After a period of time, we compiled this inventory:

7432 copper pieces
2490 silver pieces
89 gold pieces
3 platinum pieces

for a net value of 442.32 gp. Not bad! Being lightly loaded, I volunteered to carry the gp and pp as they could be taken without need for cart and oxen 🙂

Plus there were

[183] a leather pouch with 34 malakite gems (badly flawed); perhaps 1gp each
[184] a medium chain mail shirt
[185] a medium masterwork scimitar (Olithar groaned; he’d just bought one)
[186] a set of masterwork manacles
[187] a gold holy symbol for Sarenray
[188] a jade necklace
[189] a fine blue silk gown w/silver trim

This seemed a good time to sleep, so guards were set and rest was had.

All but Olithar, who slept but had a dream where a voice said to him from somewhere deep, “The Whisperer will have vengeance.”

Perhaps an undigested bit of beef.

Monday, 4 Neth

And so it was that we arose rested and returned to the lower levels. I and Sabin cast Mage Armor upon ourselves and trudged on. Didn’t take long before we found a room that didn’t quite seem empty. Olithar cast detect undead and did indeed find a moderate aura centered on some sarcophagi. 3 shadows emerged from 3 alcoves. We learned, unfortunately, that these creatures could sap strength from our fighters, and they not only became wounded but weak. Kane, Avia, and Sabin all were affected. However, my flaming sphere proved most useful in helping defeat the shadows, and the fact that I could create it and manipulate it from a modest distance made me very happy. Thank you Elgin!

Olithar was able to restore most if not all of Sabin’s strength, but that was all the magic he had for today. The others would need to cope until tomorrow.

Not too far from here appeared to be a couple of rooms with access to pools! Upon further inspection, we concluded it was one pool that had flooded both rooms. At some time in the past, an earthquake, explosion, or some other significant force had cause the walls to collapse and allow water to enter. It was unclear if there was a flow, or whether this was actually a stagnant pool. The rooms themselves seemed ornately decorated; not in an extravagant sense, but in an artistic sense. There were murals and carvings on the walls of the rooms. One mural depicted a tall mountain, and a stern face above the palace in the picture. Below lay an immense city of spires.

This was all interesting enough, but then we noticed in the pool was a giant golden helmet. I mean GIANT, as in “was once worn by”. Couldn’t tell if it was gold-plated or actually gold but all that became irrelevant when it turned to face us. The water here seemed to be 3 to 10 feet deep, so ropes were brought out and people secured before approaching the water (and the helmet). Olithar tried speaking Thasselonian to the helm, whereupon it stood up and we saw the largest seafood dinner EVER. A giant crab was using the helmet as a home. Weapons were launched but between the armor it effectively wore, and its own natural carapace, we didn’t seem to be doing much.

Then Olithar used magic to heat the metal. Clever! He essentially cooked it in an upside down pot! Yes it took some more blows, but it was like cooking a steak without cutting it from the flank. In no time at all, the water around it was steaming and it had stopped moving. Get me some butter! (We did eat well this day.)

Now able to search the pool, we found

3537 silver pieces
645 gold pieces
[190] 40 precious stones (about 10gp each)
[191] a jade amulet (radiated magic)

The amulet, we found, added +1 natural armor. It was determined this magic could not help me, as I already have developed, it seems, a tougher skin and thus already have a better natural armor than others. It went to Rigel.

We discussed if the helmet might be more valuable as a relic than as something to be melted down. Need to think about that some.

[192] helmet, giant (~300 pounds)

This seemed a good place (and time) to rest again. We set up “the usual guards”.

Toilday, Neth 5

The night passed uneventfully. After searching around some more in the laboratory (and seeing the results of what could only have been gruesome experiments) we found a seven pointed star object that looked like it might be the key we need to enter the room behind the double doors.

[193] surgical tools
[194] silver and gold 7-pointed star studded with nodules and spikes

Key inserted, door unlocked, and …

This room was very warm, in no small part to the brazier-style fire in the middle of the room. For an old room, this fire seemed very active. That suggested it was magical. Nevertheless, heat is heat and while it seems to affect me a little less than my companions, it was still uncomfortable. Corners of the room had golden candles. There was a 7-sided star on the wall opposite us. The entire room radiated strong magic (enchantment).

And Avia immediately detected evil.

Trask and Sabin, consequently, immediately cast Mage Armor. Kane blessed us all.

And then the giant wolf-like creature with primate hands and feet stepped into the light and was a bit clearer to us. It didn’t look pleasant. Olithar cast protection from evil on Nolin, and I started up a flaming sphere. It seemed that only magic weapons could hit it.

The creature started blinking, which indicated it was sometimes in our plane and sometimes not. That made it harder to hit, but also made it harder to hit us. I started up a second flaming sphere. After a round or two of maybe hitting it, maybe not, and after what appeared to be a ferocious blow by Avia, it disappeared.

After a moment of making sure it had not reappeared, we searched the room. We found

[195] ever-lit candles (30)
[196] coffer
[197] seven-pointed ring — magic

The ring, we learned, generated a wall of force shield in front of the wearer.

There was some discussion about who should wear the ring, but it sounded like I was not going to be gifted with it.

Dear Father,

This. Is. Awesome.

This letter won’t get sent for some time, of course, because I’m still in danger of being fried or stabbed or electrocuted at any moment. If it is found on my dead body I hope somebody will have the good grace to send it along. The last time I was this close to death was, I think, when I broke our magic pitcher that we normally kept on the kitchen table. It always had cool, fresh water and I vividly recall you had me by the throat for “carelessly destroying such a valuable item”. As a ten year old, of course, I couldn’t imagine why you might not just go buy another, but that’s not always possible, is it? There is nothing like living on the edge and by your own wit, and going without fresh water for a time to drive home the value of such an item, and to really understand why, of course, glue or even a skilled glass artisan could not restore such an item to working condition.

I get it now. It’s magic. Sorry about that, almost 8 years later.

You had said that adventuring “gets in your blood” and you made it sound like some sort of horrible yet fascinating disease. And it is, really, isn’t it? You do come to like that prickly feeling that runs down your back when you hear a sound behind you and you remember with a sinking feeling that you did not close and lock the door you just came through, don’t you? And you can’t really explain it to anyone who hasn’t been there and felt it too.

Someday when I return you’ll get to read my entire journal, of course. And I hope that my writings will raise the temperature of your blood like my reading of yours did. And speaking of blood .. there’s more to our heritage than you’ve said, isn’t there? Sure, I knew about the claws, and you hinted at other things, but you said they would only reveal themselves “in due time”. And now I find that fire captures my fancy, and the one spell I have that sets my hands aflame … it seems to be stronger than the ones others do. It seems I have an affinity for fire, or it for me. What other secrets will I learn?

No matter. It’s all good. And you can probably tell I’m greatly enjoying this search for adventure I’m on. I’ve found it, by the way. I’m with a group that is trying to defeat some sort of demon seductress or maybe succubus, or — I don’t know. It’s hard to keep up. She wants to destroy a nearby town, and there’s been plenty of evil around this place, including shrines and altars to LaMashTu. But it’s not too hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys, and the bad guys ARE losing.

At Thistletop (I don’t know if you know where that is, but I’ll assume you do because I’m not going to give a geography lesson) we were trying to find out more about this Nualia and her actions here. We killed a goblin chieftain, or king, or something, and declared a whole lot of stuff ours now: healing potions, weapons, and armor. The goblins have taken over the surface and created some crude structures, but this rock has been here lots longer than they have and there are subchambers below the surface where people – or creatures – are digging up old artifacts to assist Nualia in her plot to destroy Sandpoint. We’ve killed all (I think) of the goblins here, but there are others — bugbears, giant geckos, and the like. Even other humans!

We discovered two very different ones. One could have been me in a different universe — she was a scholar first, and she gave no care to the effects of her research. It was all about the knowledge for her. The paladin said she was evil, but is that just what happens when the books rule you? We nearly killed her at first, but then revived her, talked with her, and sent her on her way. She was so … cold. She was respectful but really into her research. Had I not taken this journey, that might have been me in a few years. The room she was in was a wealth of knowledge to the right person. I recognized bits and pieces of it, but she freely admitted she was helping research ancient artifacts and yes, spells. Lyrie, her name was, but she wasn’t anything special to look at.

Nolin, of our group, took pity on a horse we found that likely was destined to be a goblin meal. It’s interesting; he seems to have a way with animals while also having a way with a particularly big looking sword. Glad he’s on our side but who could have known he was an animal handler too?

Oh, and the other human was mercenary through and through. And really, not very good. He surrendered rather than be killed, and then offered to join US! I should think not. If he changes sides that easily, I’m not sure I’d trust him at my back. We took his possessions and sent him on too. Unfortunately, as a sorcerer, I found his booty of weapons and armor to be wholly unsuitable for my use.

As we continued exploring we found a few unusual things. One was some sort of land squid — it looked like a squid but could walk on land. We chose not to disturb it, as we weren’t sure if we could handle its tentacles. It didn’t see us. And there was a room ..

The door to this room had raised figures of human women giving birth to horrible abominations. Our bard, just had to go in … and upon entering what appeared to be a place of unholy worship, he promptly drew the attention of 4 hellhounds, or something resembling that. They took great gouges out of him and — even THIS exhilarates me — they had an unearthly howl that drove Rigel and I away in unexplainable fear. We both tried to crowd into the same corner of the same distant room which, truth be told, wasn’t half bad until we awkwardly regained our senses and pretended we actually hadn’t been huddled against each other.

Being that close to her, I suppose I should check my belongings!

We returned to the room in time to see the last of the hounds reduced to ashes or dust by our fighters. The bard was barely alive — actually, I was told he had been near death several times — and the party was exhausted. It was in this state that we met the bugbear and the mercenary (did I mention the bugbear?) within a few minutes of catching our breath. I guess noise carries underground, eh?

My friends were surprised when I jumped into this fray but I just felt so … alive. Of course our claws were something you told me about early on, but you didn’t tell me everything about our heritage, did you? Oh I know you did say “more will be revealed when you are ready” but I’ve noticed an increasing fascination – no, that’s not the right word – study, perhaps, of fire. The one fire spell I have I seem to be able to cast better than our other mage but I can’t describe the technique I’m using to him. The flame is brighter and I believe the fire is hotter. And yet, for all that, I seem to burn myself even less easily than before.

Ah, but I mentioned the fire already didn’t I? It’s hard to focus sometimes.

What surprises await me? Part of me wishes you’d told me more, and part of me is looking forward to the discovery.

No matter. But I don’t see how you ever gave this up. The thrill is addictive. Did Mother make you stop? Would that be enough? I don’t know if it would be enough for me to simply be ordered to stop. I feel like there’s so much more yet, and I simply MUST experience it.

When we chased the bugbear, it went into a room that seemingly had a secret panel, because when we killed him he was frantically searching along a wall. And now, briefly, we are collecting our thoughts and belongings before descending deeper into this rock via the secret passage we’ve just opened.

I’m sorry if this letter is hard to follow. It is hastily written in an uneven hand by your very excited son, and I fear I haven’t related things in exactly the order they happened. But it’s pretty much right. I mean, if it — oh, it looks like the party is ready. When I return you’ll have to read my entire journal, as it is more structured and pedantic and proper and calm and easier to read. But after today I just felt like I had to send a letter that would get there sooner. I had to share. Even if it won’t really get sent until I return to the city. Or my body does.

But I think I’m getting more powerful. I think I feel it. I think I’ll survive. Perhaps .. perhaps even vanquish. Was it this way for you?

your giddy son,
Trask