Category Archives: Journal Entries

Sketches by Gath, Arodus 6-7, 4719

6 Arodus 4719, Night

Breachill

After sorting through the items Malarunk and his cronies were carrying we turned our attention to the elf gate, or Alseta’s Ring as it is properly called. A partially melted archway allows access from the natural caverns into the circular chamber, for “ring” it is: a set of gateways set in a circle with facing statues beneath a domed ceiling.

On the far side from where we entered is the rubble-blocked stars leading up to the citadel. But to the right of where we entered is a pair of polished metal double doors.

The stairs were blocked and the gateways required more research, which left the double doors for immediate exploration. I volunteered because I genuinely enjoy this sort of work, and Liberte stepped over to the side of the doors to offer support.

In a flash of inspiration Aemi handed me the seal of Alseta that we had found above, and this turned out to be key (literally) to passing through the doors. As I approached the form of an elven warrior stepped out from the door — not “opened the door and stepped through” but literally stepped out from the door as if the door morphed into him (which it may well have, because the elf looked fairly metallic).

It spoke to us in Elvish, which I have been learning and so I got the general meaning as, “The custodian of Alseta’s Ring dwells beyond.” It then looked at me and said, “Only those who carry her blessed sign may pass.”

After flashing a smile at Aemi I turned and passed by the elf and found a chamber with empty shelves, open (and empty) chests, and a table. On the table was a stack of papers. Included in the papers was the dead for the citadel.

I searched the room but found nothing else of interest and so I returned to the gate room and informed my team mates that we were now the proud owners of Citadel Altaerein. Personally I think a name change is in order.

We then spent some time identifying each gateway from the writing on the gate and the identity of its corresponding statue. The writing was in elvish and so I used chalk to write in common the name of each gate. 

Lotusgate [faced by a statue of Alseta]. Jewelgate [Yuelral]. Duskgate [Findeladlara]. Huntergate [Ketephys] — it was through here that the Cinderclaws and Renali arrived. Vengegate [Calistria]. Dreamgate [Desna].

We realized that we had much work to do in the coming weeks, both research and physical labor, but we wisely addressed the immediate challenge: we needed to get past Ralldar. And by “get past” I mean slay. It was no good pretending that having an insane barghest beneath our home was a bad idea.

Our battle plan was simple: rush in and engage it and beat on it until it died. The execution wasn’t quite as simple because when we marched into his chamber he was flying ten feet above the floor and he was flickering in such a way that made striking him more difficult.

And this is why I appreciate (and prefer) archery. Those of us who could attacked him with our ranged weapons and spells. Liberte and then Kyira used a spell to increase their size, but by the time they had done so Ralldar had vanished. Liberte struck at the space where the barghest had last been and felt a satisfying thud, and he called out that he was still there but invisible.

While we pressed our attack on the space we last remembered him being Qantrip moved into the adjacent treasure room only to find the Ralldar was already there. She shouted his whereabouts and we rushed over to the door as Ralldar hit Tarsius, which ended his invisibility, and so Marcus and I peppered him with arrows as Tarsius and Liberte clobbered him.

After that it didn’t take long to overwhelm Ralldar, who dropped to the floor dead.

We gathered up his possessions — both worn and stashed — and identified some of them before heading back to town.

It was fairly late by the time we made it to Breachill, but fortunately we found rooms at Cayden’s Keg.

7 Arodus 4719, Noon

Breachill

We took the deed to the town clerk’s office as soon as they opened. They accepted it and were quite hopeful when we told them we planned to repair the citadel and live there. They were especially keen to make use of the old fort’s defenses if the city faced a threat. This makes sense: much of the citadel’s appeal is its proximity to Breachill and helping to defend the city and its people is of mutual benefit.

We met Warbal soon after and she was happy for us, and became ecstatic when we told her that as legal owners of the citadel we were granting the Bumblebrashers clan the right to live there. We already had this conversation the evening before as we walked back into town and decided that because they had been living there for so long and taking care of the place (within their abilities) then it was only fair that they should keep their home.

Goblins get kicked around a lot in this world and it was nice to see them at the fair end of a deal for once, and even better that we were the ones on the other end of the deal.

We’ll need to work out details of exactly where in the citadel they live, and what sort of creatures they can bring in with them (no more bears, for instance), but we are confident in a successful long term collaboration.

And already Aemi and Qantrip are working out a schedule of repair and cleaning projects for the citadel. Obviously the outer walls need to be repaired and the doors made secure. The collapsed stairway down to the basement needs to be cleared as do the stairs leading down from there to the ring.

For the upper level work (including the first set of stairs) we’ve agreed to hire skilled workers from Breachill, which should bolster our standing with the community. Better still, Warbal has agreed to act as the overseer for these construction projects. She was so happy that we are allowing her tribe to continue to live there that she is only charging half her usual fee for the first month, which is quite generous.

We’ve also had discussions about what to tell the town council about Alseta’s Ring. My preference is to not tell them at all — ever. It really isn’t their business. But Aemi and Tarsius seem to think it important as good citizens to “keep them informed.”

Hmm, I am all about being a productive and contributing member of the local community, but I do not consider telling city officials about something they do not own and provided no assistance in recovering. I’ve also heard many tales from Natre and the goblins of the Chitterwood about city officials using the laws to benefit their powerful friends. I even witnessed this first hand in Elidir where the wealthy were always treated preferentially.

But we are a team and so compromises must be made.

Before we tell anyone else about Alseta’s Ring we need to secure it. The stairway that leads down from the citadel to the ring must be cleared. You can imagine the legal argument against our ownership and access to the ring if we did not have direct access to it: “My lord, how can this gate be considered part of their citadel when they have to march for miles to Guardian’s Way and then even more miles through caverns just to reach it?” And of course we need to seal off the ring from those caverns. Right now anyone can enter the caves and follow the trail left by Vos and us straight to the ring.

Qantrip is keen to learn how the gates work before telling the council about it, and I can see her point her too.

And I just realized that once we open up the stairs all of the way down to the ring we still have two unsecured entries into the citadel’s basement: the hidden tunnel out back that the goblins showed us and the tunnel that leads all of the way into Breachill and the basement of the Pickled Ear. These two tunnels need to be made safe, and so I will volunteer to organize the effort to install gates and doors to control access.

Enough writing for now, there is work to be done!

Tarsius’ Journal, 5-6 Arodus

5 Arodus
9:30am
Guardian’s Way

Entering the cave cautiously, Gath scouted ahead. Normally, I would follow slowly, a slight distance behind him.  I’m not as stealthy as he is (a breastplate and three weapons have a habit of making random noise no matter how hard you try) but if he gets in a pinch I can probably provide cover while he withdraws.  In this case, though, Qantrip took up the position.  She’s certainly much more quiet than I, but she’s not well-armored at all. Puzzled, I followed but even farther back than usual.

And we found just how stealthy we were when we heard Voz’s voice call out “they’re trying to surprise us through the north cave!  Go guard there!”

So, no surprise.  To play along I called over my shoulder in a husky hoarse whisper, “I think she heard us! I’m going north to help out.”  And then of course did no such thing, cuz good money said the battle would be right in front of me.

Oops. And right in Trip’s and Gath’s faces.

I swiftly cast divine favor followed by a shield of faith. Voz replied to the cavern, almost mockingly, “Oh no. I think they heard me. Better hurry!”

Gath very gingerly edged forward and peeked around an outcropping of rock.  There was Voz and three skeletons; one skeleton looking better armed and armored than the other two.

Trip quietly said to me, “when I say ‘now’, pull me back.”  Before I could react to that, Trip moved forward. cast a spell into the cavern, and yelled “now!”.  Immediately, the bigger skeleton stepped up and smacked Trip hard. She grimaced but still grinned. “Burning sands. Get me out of here.”  I was able to grab her and move her behind me as I waited for the skeletons to approach.  The corridor here would only allow them to approach single file.  I made sure to pull out my morningstar rather than my sword, and waited.  From behind me, Gath shot arrows at the skeletons.

As each approached, Gath hit it with blunt arrows, and I hit it with a morningstar.  My armor was up to the test as they did not lay a blade on me.  Voz did throw a fireball that caught most of us but also got two of her skeletons.  Confident in my armor, I stepped farther into the room to let others behind me enter.  Voz was now climbing the walls like a cave bug so after I and Gath finished off the skeletons, I calmly switched to my bow.

Being the better archer, Gath drew most of Voz’s wrath, including a ray of enfeeblement, poor guy, but he fought through it like a trooper.  Voz fell pretty quickly afer the skeletons were used up, but mindful now of the difference between bounties for live people and bounties for dead people, we didn’t let her die.  Not that we exactly healed her back to prime health – she only needed to be alive, not ready to run back to Breachill in record time.

We rigged a harness to drag her back, and took a quick inventory of her stuff – some healing potins, some scrolls, a magic dagger and, perhaps most useful of all, her journals with all her notes about the caves.

Dragging her back to Breachill was no treat, but it was worth it because in our absence the council had authorized a 500gp bounty to retrieve her.  (We never got a chance to ask what she was worth dead :) )  We decided to spend the night in Breachill before returning to continue Voz’s exploratory.  I picked up materials to cast masterwork transformation in the morning, and also picked up a pearl of power (1st level). Those divine favors and shields of faith are nice.

Liberté mentioned he’d found a creature in a side cave near Voz called a ticktock, I think.  Kyira had said it was evil, but Liberté (or Qantrip, details fuzzy) struck a deal with it and it seemed to honor that.  (I never even knew all that was going on behind me!)

6 Arodus

During my morning meditations, I obtained masterwork transformation for my bow.  When I was done meditating, I immediately cast the spell, hoping a finer bow might result in a finer archer.

The trip back to Guardian’s Way was uneventful.  Several of us had examined Voz’s notes, and if they were to be believed, she seemed to have cleared out a lot of the caves ahead of us (well, her skeletons did, most likely).

Not too far from where we captured her, we came across a den of large black widow spiders, and in an abundance of cautiion, I drank the council’s antivenom before I helped dispatch them.  They could have been deadly had they (or we!) attacked all at once, but they weren’t that smart.  Trip threw some glitterdust into the room and that blinded a couple of them too.  There were five altogether but a cautious strategy kept us fighting only one at a time in melee while the archers shot the ones behind, and we methodically worked thru the group.

Near one of the dessicated victims, we found a magic scimitar.  This got me excited, and I offered to “care for it”. I will always keep grandpa’s family sword, but, oh this one swings nice.

In a side passage, Gath found an area where the webbing had been cleverly worked and draped.  Aemi came up and detected magic in the same area. She looked at it a bit, then called out, “Hello? Is somebody there?”  I smiled at that but stifled a chuckle when yes, a humanoid emerged and said “you could say that.”  She introduced herself as Renali, and said (essentially) she was a traveler stuck on the wrong side of the portal.  We briefly exchanged stories, and she looked angry at the mention of the Cinderclaws.

She also warned of a goblin-king Ralidar up ahead who likely would not let our group pass.  He had killed several of the Cinderclaws at their first encounter.  Her description had Liberté thinking we might dealing with a bar-guest, which sounds like a pub problem but is apparently some sort of actual demon?

Renali agreed to travel with us but not fight with us, which seemed fair enough for now.  Forewarned about the bar-guest, Qantrip played the part of a goblin supplicant and we her servants.  Ralidar is mad, I would say, or at best highly irrational.  He decided he would let us pass if we brought him a spider head mounted on a human body as tribute.  Well, in the room behind us we had exactly those body parts strewn about, so we were able to do just that.  Can’t tell if he was surprised or not, but he accepted the construct and let us pass.  For now.  I have a feeling this trick will only work for so long.

Passing by his “treasure room” (keep moving, no stopping here) we reached a room beyond him where, according to Renali, the remaining Cinderclaws were surviving.  Sure enough, we could hear some voices.  They were at the bottom of a 15′-20′ drop, though, and rather than dropping on ropes, we decided to prevail upon the soft touch of a featherfall spell to make our descent.

Gath, Kyira, Liberté and I went in one drop.  We immediately noticed two things: 1) until we moved, it would hard for the others to come down without landing on us, and 2) we were not unexpected.  I saw a priest I presume was Mallowcup, two boggarts and two cherukai.  Time to get to business.

The priest sent a spiritual weapon (dragon jaws? really?) over to me, which, fortunately was more of a nuisance than anything.  Liberté pulled a trick I’d never seen before, letting loose a stream of curses and insults so vile that it literally set our foes on fire. At that point I knew we could handle the boggarts and cherukai but the priest was a wild card.  I fought my way through to get to him and, yeah, two satisfying blows and a solid arrow from Gath was all it took to lay him down.  Well that and being set on fire.

He had this styled gauntlet that read as magic; have to look into that.  But for now, we’re getting everybody back together and taking a quick breather before moving on.

Aemi’s Journal, Arodus 5, 4719

Arodus 5, 4719

Breachill

Night

I don’t know who decided Guardian’s Way needed to be six miles outside of town, but I’m fairly certain that if I had known them, I would have hated them. Yes, I know that speaking ill of the dead is considered disrespectful, but I am not going to let that stop me. It is a five and half hour walk, round trip, every time we go out there. Today was the second time, and tomorrow will be the third. I have cause.

Iskaryn pointed out that I did a lot more walking than this just getting to Breachill. My answer to that is, the whole point of putting down roots is not having to travel this much in a day. I didn’t have a choice before. Not unless you considered starving to death a viable option (which she might, given that she bullied me in to buying this fucking journal instead of food before we even got started).

Personally, I blame Voz. The whole reason we had to make this trek again was because of her and her Magdh-be-damned skeletons. Once we caught up with the woman she couldn’t just properly die. She had to go and pass out on us, barely clinging to life. That meant hauling her back to town and handing her over to the guard. She has a remarkable talent for turning six miles into twelve.

Not that I’m not relieved that we aren’t becoming the sort who will casually execute a helpless prisoner just because it’s more convenient.

Even more annoying is that I suppose I should thank her. Voz kept a journal, and she went on at great lengths about all the vile things she has been up to, and her even more vile plans for her future in Breachill. Much of what is in here is pretty damning, and you could literally just tear out a page from it and hand it over as evidence for her trial (as her journal discusses a number of things we are not ready to share with the town yet, that is exactly what we did—”And here is what appears to be an excerpt from a journal she was keeping, where she discusses animating the dead,” etc.) It was a reminder that I need to be careful about what I write down in my own, lest someone do to me what we just did with her.

Granted, I don’t give people reasons to be suspicious of me (fine, anymore, and shut up, Iskaryn!). And I’m not planning to murder a tribe of goblins so I can start an assassin’s guild in the citadel (we gave the guard this one, too—”And here’s where she writes about a financial backer…”) and then gloat about it on paper. But, still, the lesson is clear.

For all her character flaws, she was good at research. This thing is filled with details about Alseta’s Ring, and its existence was gleaned from soldiers’ accounts during the Goblinblood Wars. The access to it through the network of caves here was apparently accidental. A soldier’s journal describes a breach in a cave that led to a “ring of strange archways”, that was “protected by a construct which takes the form of a door”. As that all came about through an interrogation with goblins, it’s worse than hearsay—a journal that describes what was written in another journal, wherein they write down what they heard from someone else—but the presence of the Cinderclaws is enough to convince us that this is real. It’s just a matter of finding it.

Which Voz has yet to do. For someone working essentially alone (a bunch of mindless skeletons hardly count as companions) she’s accomplished quite a lot in just the last couple of days, as evidenced by the map she meticulously created. But she is still short of the prize.

We’re all too happy to finish the job for her.

Sketches by Gath, Arodus 6, 4719

6 Arodus 4719, morning

Breachill

One thing that has stuck with me since handing over Voz to the city yesterday was how impressed Wilford Lavendil, captain of the guard, was with our results. This positive impression is likely to spread to the town council and possibly other worthies of Breachill. Considering how we are planning to make the citadel our home base I can easily imagine how useful it will be to have such a reputation here in town.

Qantrip has returned from her nightly stay with the goblins at the citadel at the same time I was taking down my tent and storing it along with my bedroll in the hollow of a tree. I am reevaluating the best way to save money when in town and I think if I dine more at places like the Pickled Ear I will be able to afford a modest room with a comfy bed without spending any more than I currently am.

It’s time to head back to Guardian’s Way and use the map of the cavern system we obtained from Voz to find the gate and the surviving members of the Cinderclaws.

6 Arodus 4719, afternoon

Caverns of Guardian’s Way

We arrived at the caverns by mid morning and while Liberte spoke with the spider creature (called a tixitog) the rest of us studied Voz’s map. An area was annotated with, “Hell no!” that caught our attention, but it seemed to be in an out of the way cul de sac and so we opted to avoid it for now.

Before we continued on Kyira quietly stated that the tixitog was evil. Hmm. Well it seemed content to leave us alone and hang out near the entrance. It seems like we ought to be able to leave it alone as a sort of “free security” to guard our backs while we go in. Could we trust it, hell no. I suspect we’ll need to consider this and other “Hell nos!” if we take over the citadel and want to secure these caverns in the future.

As we followed Voz’s trail we came upon evidence of her encounters with other denizens of the caverns. Bones from some of her skeletal guards were scattered about a chamber with the corpses of several giant scorpions. Sooner them than us.

I was doing my usual thing of scouting just a little ahead of the main party when I came upon a room draped with heavy spider webs. I dropped back and informed the team that giant spiders were at hand and we prepared for battle. It didn’t take long for the spiders to attack, but we had set up a choke point where only one of them could come at us at a time. They never figured out an alternate strategy other than to wait one at a time while we pounded them to death. The anti-venom we had obtained earlier came in handy here because some of us were bitten.

We moved into the room and checked out the desiccated, silk wrapped bodies hanging from the webs. From here we could see two exits: a northern passage that was relatively clear and a southern way that was blocked by webs. One of the spiders had attempted to escape this way after having several of its limbs lopped off — it was smart enough to try and flee from a losing battle but not quite smart enough to understand the consequences of facing ranged weapons — and so I thought there might be something worth investigating.

And after hacking away the thick ropes of webbing I indeed discovered what looked like a tent of fine spider silk hanging from the wall. It seemed obvious that something or someone was hiding here and so Aemi and I called out a greeting. We were answered by a woman who cautiously came out to meet us. Aemi and then Qantrip spoke with her at length.

Her name was Renali and she had secretly followed the Cinderclaws through the gateway. She was not in league with them but had simply been curious to see most of the world, but now found herself trapped in the caverns. She was able to move about the spiders safely and had used them as a sort of security measure (sounds familiar). She was familiar with tixitogs as well and warned us that the creature we left behind was not to be trusted. Again, this sounded familiar.

More helpfully she knew where the surviving Cinderclaws were and the location of the elf gate (well, it was the same place). But to get to them we first had to pass by a creature known as a barghest who was called Ralldar. Liberte in particular seemed to know what it was and he was concerned about our chances slaying it. Renali’s account of how it had slain the Cinderclaws that tried to pass it led credence to Liberte’s worries.

But the thing was apparently half crazy and styled itself as the “god of all goblin kind.” Well that was interesting and given some of the team’s background we could make use of that to get past it. Indeed Qantrip quickly came up with a cunning plan to present herself as an explorer with the rest of us her hired guards and servants.

This required that our witch come face to face with the potentially violent being that we were not sure would want to just talk. It was decided that I would stealthily go alongside her while invisible.

Things went according to plan, although we had to make a side trek to collect a humanoid head (I fetched a skull from back where Voz’s force had fought the scorpions) which we stitched atop a spider body. Because of course this is the tribute that Ralldar demanded to allow us to pass. And that did the trick! We passed by, noting a side chamber containing some magical and some potentially valuable items in Ralldar’s horde.

So, yeah, add this to the other “Hell nos!” we’ve collected to be sorted out later.

In the subsequent chamber we had to carefully scrape away some dangerous looking mold to access a large hole that dropped down through the rock to where Renali had said the Cinderclaws and the gate were.

Yes, Renali had joined us past Ralldar, but by what means she passed him unnoticed she was reluctant to disclose to us. Interesting.

We knew we would have to fight the surviving Cinderclaws as soon as we dropped down to their level, but the space was constricted which meant only four of us could go down at once. Aemi volunteered the use of a Featherfall spell and so Tarsius, Kyira, Liberte and I jumped down.

As we expected, our foes were waiting for us and they attacked at once. Our immediate focus was clearing enough space for the rest of the team to join us, and so we focused on the Charau-ka and Boggards that pressed in on us. This left their leader, Malarunk, to coordinate the defense from afar and cast spells against us.

That lasted less than a minute before we broke through his defenders and attacked Malarunk himself. He did not last long.

The brevity of the fight was not surprising. Most of Malarunk’s force had been left above or slain down here and he was left with a skeleton staff (well, not literally). He himself may not have been at his best given that he had been trapped here with few provisions.

And the gate is here. I can see different portals facing different directions. It all seems inert for the moment. And this brings up an important point: if Malarunk knew enough of the gateway to use it to get here, why was he unable to use it to escape?

Based upon an initial glance at the structure my guess is that he managed to activate a portal at a gate in his original part of the world, but was unable to activate any of the portals here.

We need to spend some time studying these and taking notes before heading back.

And when we head back how many of our pending “Hell nos!” do we address along the way?

Tarsius’ Journal, 4-5 Arodus

4 Arodus

Today we’re going to go Voz hunting.

Oh I know we’re just going to go to Guardian’s Way to learn more about Alseta’s Ring, but I also know that’s the same reason Voz went there and this seems like an unlikely group to say, “Darn it Voz, I guess you got here first so you go ahead.”  Especially Aemi, who seems to have strong convictions about this. And frankly I think the reverse is true as well -Voz is unlikely to graciously concede anything to us. The only way Voz concedes anything is if she’s on her last drop of blood, and given her reputation for necromancy, I’m not even sure she’d concede then.

I’m wearing a breastplate today, and leaving the scale mail at home.  It’s the same weight, but also a bit more sturdy. I’m in favor of that.

As we expected, it took us a bit over two and a half hours to get close, at which point Aemi sent Iskaryn ahead to scout.   Or rather requested that the royal bird deign to, if it were no trouble, please fly a bit ahead and see if death awaits us, to which the bird replied “If I die, I’ll haunt you.”  I realize that Aemi is a performer, but it seems every question to the bird (and reply) is a one act tragedy, these days.  It’s mildly amusing but I’m afraid one day it will flare up when we least need it.

In any case, she reported back that there were platforms ten and twenty feet above the ground and a number of guards stationed on those platforms that were armed with shortbows.  The exact number couldn’t be determined because the trees somewhat blocked the view from overhead.  We were armed with longbows, which gave us a slight advantage in range.

We decided a party of three (Gath, Aemi, and Qantrip) would quietly attempt to get a single guard on one of the platforms.  If that indeed went quietly and without notice, then we had a prisoner to interrogate.  If the effort was detected, then we archers from the south would loose our bows and redirect the guards’ attentions yet again.  It might turn into a swordfight at some point, but if we were lucky, arrows would introduce enough wounds and confusion to make any melee short and easily won.  Moving stealthily closer, we learned there were eight guards or mercenaries on these platforms, but although watchful, they did not seem to be on high alert.

Liberté and Marcus went stealthily to the north edge of the wooded area, and Kyira and I went to the southern edge.  We were to hold our fire until signalled, the signal being, uh, well, being that our party is detected.

And that actually happened fairly quickly.  Gath was trying to quietly ascend the platform but was discovered early.  Trip did some more sleeps, plus a glitterdust to blind some of them.  We started shooting, and as we’d hoped that introduced a bit of confusion.  Aemi did a sleep but then also created dancing lights in a vaguely humanish form at the edge of the woods, and several of their arrows tried to kill the light.  Our arrows from the field started to take their toll.

A couple mercenaries tried running off and we pursued.  The ones we captured, we disarmed but released after determining none of them were magic users and were no longer a danger to us.  Back at the cabin, Gath noticed a figure trying to stealthily leave the cabin and Trip quickly dropped it in sleep.  Only briefly, but it was long enough to manacle the hobgoblin and separate it from its possessions.

In the end, we had a hobgoblin who was apparently their leader Dmiri, and several half-orcs:  one live prisoner, and 5 dead bodies. Two others had been released by Liberté, who was literally looming large for some reason. (He returned to normal size sometime after battle ended.)

Iskaryn commented there may be a bounty on this group that called themselves the Bloody Blades, which meant, if true, letting two go was a financial mistake.  Live and learn I guess.  Technically, they did attack us first, and Kyira reported Dmiri at least, radiated evil, so I’m not feeling especially merciful.

We started inspecting the hobgoblin’s belongings because a few of them radiated magic.  As I identified a cloak of resistance and Kyira identified some magic armor, Dmiri started mouthing off about taking her stuff, saying we were worse mercenaries than her band was, not even waiting until she was dead.  And I was just miffed enough to get mouthy back.  Maybe she could be provoked into revealing more info.

Your band. I see. I suppose you already know why we’re here then.”

“So you think this is your territory now?” she said disapprovingly.

Territory?  I didn’t realize this was a territorial thing.  Interesting.  “I suppose so.  Tell me, what’s the best way to reach your boss, now that there’s apparently an opening?”

Now that got a response.  “The Bloody Blades are mine, human. Say whatever you want to me but spare me your insults. My boss. As if.”

Aha.  So yes they were the Bloody Blades, which means there was likely a price for their capture.  And she was proud enough about that that maybe with another jab or two … I was hoping she’d mention Voz and maybe her intentions.  “Oh, my apologies,” I said. “No boss? Sad. Usually a trainee has a master, or at least some way to learn a skill.” I held up the bow. “A compound shortbow? An unfortunate choice against longbows.”

Liberté gave her a glowering look, but instead of breaking her, it apparently made her shut up.  This taunting stuff is not as easy as it looks I guess.

A quick glance into the cabin had revealed some magic (by both Kyira and myself) so Gath was preparing to retrieve it.  He did not find any traps but retrieved a fair amount of gold, some caving equipment, and some potions Liberté later determined were healing potions.

Dmiri’s rapier appeared magical, but resisted our efforts to identify it.  We’d have to puzzle over that some more later.

Off to one side, a contentious discussion started over what to do with the prisoners.  On the one hand, they did represent cash.  Liberté felt that doing anything other than disarming them and releasing them took too much of our time.  Aemi felt that taking their things meant we were no better than they were (basically robbers) and they might spread stories saying we were the brigands.  And Qantrip went off on a history lesson about how we accepted the Hellknight but now we wanted to kill these mercenaries just for being evil?

My position was They. Attacked. Us.  Much as I’m revising my opinions on goblins, it is still the case there were many in my town who were attacked by invaders and died in the Goblinblood Wars, despite being innocent of any offense against the goblins.  If I (or we) are attacked, then if we win, we have authority over any survivors and their belongings.  Practicality wins over any moral outrage. To the victor goes the spoils.  In my mind, the only question would be do we kill them or turn them in for money?

The money option is definitely Nethys’ way of making this an easy decision.  I’m not sure I could sign up for killing helpless captives, but since they have cash value the decision is obvious – take the money.  It’s something all of us can use and it’s Nethys’ way of balancing out the damage these individuals have caused.  An exchange, if you will.  If any object, they can always give their share to the rest of us.

In the end, the party did decide to take the captives back for the reward money.  From the bodies of the dead ones, we took the tattoo they had all conveniently used to identify themselves as members of the Bloody Blade.

Aemi was quite strident during the discussion.  She’s becoming quite the little spark.

We interviewed Dmiri a bit more and learned yes, Voz was here, had been for a couple of days, and apparently had an entourage of skeletons as an honor guard.  (So everyone knows to get blunt arrows or bludgeoning weapons when we get back to town.)  Under Liberté’s gentle prodding, she drew a crude map of the little bit of the cave she knew about, and mentioned there were other creatures, some poisonous, living in the caves.

Before we left, both Gath and I erased the tracks around the cave entrance.  We wanted to see if Voz or anything came out of the cave, and if they did, by erasing our own tracks, we’d leave them guessing as to how many people defeated her guard.

We arrived back at town close to dinnertime, but a guard at the gate directed us to the leader of the town guard Wilford Lavensomething.  We explained the situation to him, and he pulled out some paperwork, looked it over, and announced that Dmiri was worth 500gp, the other live prisoner was worth 100gp, and the five tattoos were 50gp each.  If you added in the 600gp that Voz had given Dmiri, we already had earned 1450gp before we even considered the items we confiscated (all of which was mind-blowing to Aemi).

Then Aemi revealed Voz’s part in all of this and Wilford just about exploded.  We said we were going back and did he know if the Council would pay for us to retrieve Voz?  He was pretty sure they would since Voz was out of his jurisdiction right now and he couldn’t do it personally, but of course the final say on that would have to come from the Council.  But he was going to reach out to them this very evening if possible, and we should proceed on his authority for now.

Since we were busy tromping back and forth between locations outside the city, we decided to ask Warbal if she might spend some time selling the things we’d been collecting.  She was more than happy to, but I didn’t hear how much that would cost us.  I hope it’s not much.

Nobody was particularly keen on going back to Guardian’s Way and encountering skeletons in the dark, so we decided to park in or near the city for the night.  Some took rooms, and some just set up “camp” outside the city walls.  I was happy to take a comfortable room.  Nethys never said we couldn’t be comfortable.

5 Arodus

The sun was rising and the skies were clear when I rose for my morning devotions.  By 7am I was ready to meet the others.  I swung by Wilford’s post and he said that while the Council had not yet drawn up a formal contract, they did agree that Voz needed to be taken into custody and confirmed we were authorized to do so.  I relayed this to the group when we met.

Dmiri’s rapier had resisted our efforts to identify it yesterday, but when we all put our heads together instead of trying separately, we were able to determine it was a particularly enchanted and keen weapon, making it capable of more damage than your ordinary rapier.  I was tempted to trade my scimitar for it, but I’ve grown a bit fond of grandpa’s weapon and I feel a bit of him is with me with every swing.  Besides, it’s what I trained the most with at the abbey, and I feel like Nethys has blessed it.

As it was, we added the rapier to the things we’d entrusted to Warbal.

It was about 9:30 when we arrived at the Way, and we approached stealthily in case of ambush.  There was no ambush, but an inspection at the cave entrance did indicate boots had passed since yesterday.  Made me wonder – do skeletons wear boots?  Have to check.

Gath is set to stealthily check out the area around the entrance of the cave.

Aemi’s Journal, Arodus 3–4, 4719

Arodus 3, 4719

Breachill

Night

We spent the afternoon securing the citadel. Or, rather, securing the parts of the citadel we can access. Obviously, the stairwell is choked with rubble, so there’s no way down to Alseta’s Ring and some untold number of Cinderclaw cultists, but they can’t get up here, either, so the effect is the same: we don’t have to worry about them surprising us. If they had some means of getting up here, they’d have done it by now.

That’s what I’m telling myself, anyway.

“Securing the citadel” makes it sound like the process was simple and easy. I can assure you that it was not.

The skeletons were our biggest problem since they were just plain dangerous. If they ever got out of that room, they’d attack anyone and anything until they were destroyed, which meant they weren’t just a threat to the Bumblebrashers: they were a threat to Breachill and Isger at large. The last thing we wanted to do was turn them loose on the world. Nine Hells, Isger has enough problems as it is.

Because we were outmatched, we arranged bookshelves, tables, and whatever leftover furniture we could find to create a winding gauntlet, then opened the door to let them out. The idea was to pick them off from range as they slowly worked their way to us. Only, it didn’t go quite as planned, because it turned out that they weren’t all that slow.

At one point, Kyira ended up toe-to-toe with one, and she took the kind of hit that most people would not recover from. But Iskaryn was near me, and we tried this thing we’d been practicing, where I cast a spell through her, and let her carry it on. She was able to heal Kyira just enough to get away.

Which means that Iskaryn is even more insufferable than usual, because now she’s useful for something other than lecturing me. And she knows that everyone else knows it, too.

We spent the rest of the day cleaning house. This included the unpleasant duty of clearing out the bodies we left behind the day before, burying the skeletons’ remains, and preparing a pyre for the rest. What can I say? It was grim work.

This morning, we sold off the items we had collected here. Some of those were things the Hellknights had left behind. Others were taken off the bodies of the dead. It was a sum of money I have not seen in a long time. Enough that I could live well, not just live, for over a year.

In many ways, this feels so much worse than anything I have done with my life so far. I’m not a stranger to violence, obviously, but that was an event. A single, albeit horrific, moment. It was something that happened to me. But this? I seem to have found myself in a role that is defined by it, and that profits from it. It’s almost a routine.

This is not something the me in Kerse, or even the me in Macridi, would ever have chosen for herself.

Both would be appalled.

And yet, here I am.

Arodus 4, 4719

Breachill

Night

Guardian’s Way turned out to be an old military outpost that dates back to the Goblinhood Wars. The name makes it sound more impressive than it is, which is little more than wooden platforms and a dilapidated shack among a grove of trees at the base of a cliff. I can only assume it was more impressive when it was new.

We didn’t want any surprises, so I asked Iskaryn if she’d fly ahead and scout around. She agreed, but not without her usual attitude. Right before she took off she turned her head to me and said, “If I die, I’ll haunt you.”

Whatever. I mean, she more or less does that now, so I felt like it wasn’t much of a threat.

We hadn’t gotten very far down the road before she returned.

“You’re back? That’s not good.”

“What?” she replied. “You were wanting me to get shot?”

“Of course not!” I said, rolling my eyes. “We just didn’t expect you to be done so quickly.”

“I’m efficient.”

Don’t start with me.”

She was back because it didn’t take long to see roughly half a dozen half-orcs, armed with bows, alert and on guard.

Here’s the thing. Guardian’s Way is six miles outside of town, at the end of a road that no one travels because the only place it goes is Guardian’s Way. If you see a group of people armed with bows keeping watch there, odds are good that they are highwaymen.

As it turned out, they were highwaymen.

We split into two groups: Trip and Gath approached from the side, with me not far behind, while the others covered the platforms with long bows from just inside the tree line opposite the meadow. The plan was for Trip to hex the rear guards into a slumber, one at a time, and for Gath to disable them. Then we could take the rest of the guard on two fronts.

I’ve written these words before: things didn’t go as planned. But they went well enough, and when it was done, several of them were dead, and we had one of the bandits and the group’s leader, a hobgoblin named Dmiri, in manacles. They called themselves The Bloody Blades. The name sounded familiar to me, but at the time I couldn’t remember how or why I knew it.

Tarsius was digging through Dmiri’s things when she said, “Damn, you people are worse than my band is! You not even gonna kill me before robbing me?”

Which was, of course, exactly what we were doing, and I’ll admit that it made me uncomfortable. Once we decided to take her prisoner, it seemed like we’d crossed the line between the spoils of war and literally just taking her things. The others didn’t see it that way.

And neither did Iskaryn. Which should not have come as a surprise. Yet it managed to, anyway.

“We have established that they aren’t just innocent in this,” she said. “They are, according to their leader here, the notorious Bloody Blades, and we heard about them on the way here, Aemi. If those men we overheard talking about them were right, there’s even a price on their heads!”

Once she said that, it clicked. There was this boisterous inn along the Conerica River in Elidir called The White Stag, and the Bloody Blades were a topic of discussion at one of the tables. The men sitting there looked exactly like the sort of people who’d hunt others for money, criminal or not.

But of course, Iskaryn wasn’t done, because once she gets on a roll there’s no stopping her. She had an entire discourse on the topic of theft and ownership, and was just getting warmed up. Eventually, she pointed out that Dmiri’s things were probably stolen from her victims, or paid for in stolen coin. In which case, did they truly belong to anyone?

And then it occurred to me that I was being lectured on morality by the bird that probably stole the bracelets I’m wearing.

“Fine,” I said, giving in. “As long as we turn her in or kill her, I don’t care. I just don’t want her running to someone and accusing us of murder and robbery.”

I didn’t think we’d just kill her in cold blood, and fortunately I was right. We decided to turn her in for the bounty. But not before we got a chance to talk to her. And talk, she did.

It turns out, Voz had come across them, too. She hired them. To keep us from following her into the cave.

“It’s just business!” Dmiri said. “I don’t even know you. There’s just some people she says are coming after her to get this great, once-in-a-lifetime reward she’s chasing. We just let her have her shot at it without their—your—interference.”

“Was she alone?” Liberte asked.

“No, she had her…guard…with her, if you can call them that. I don’t argue with someone who walks up with a dozen or more skeletons in their company. I don’t think you would either. But if she gives me a sack of gold, even less, right?”

If that sounds like the sort of statement that would turn heads, you would be correct. And, when we turned her in back in Breachill, I leaned into it. I told the guard captain, “We have disturbing evidence that Voz is involved in necromancy. Specifically, raising the dead. The hobgoblin, Dmiri, saw her enter the caves up at Guardian’s Way with a dozen animated skeletons in her service.”

He slammed his fist on his desk. “I always knew there was something wrong with that woman, but could never find anything actionable until now!”

It was a productive day. I walked into that office with two prisoners, and proof of death on five more. I walked out with enough gold that my share would buy me 10 more months here, and a verbal contract on Voz.

Appalled, indeed.

Sketches by Gath, Arodus 4-5, 4719

4 Arodus 4719, evening

Breachill

Qantrip had magically placed Dmiri the hobgoblin to sleep, which allowed us to bind her and question her. She confessed that she had been paid by Voz to guard the entrance to the cave. Voz had most recently arrived some days earlier with a retinue of a dozen skeletal warriors in tow and together they had entered the caverns.

We then discussed what to do with Dmiri (and the captured underling). Taking her stuff and letting her go was the popular option, but then someone, probably Iskaryn, recalled that there was a bounty for Dmiri and her band of rogues.

Oddly enough Aemi was against taking Dmiri’s things because she equated this with stealing. Hmm. I had to admit that I didn’t see it this way. Iskaryn chimed in at this point and unexpectedly supported confiscating the possessions from our defeated foes.

Qantrip pointed out that Voz was good with a bow and perhaps rather than turning her in she could work for us. None of the rest of us liked this idea because we felt she could not be trusted. Qantrip asked why we had earlier trusted Alek to assist us. This was a good question. Alek was a bigoted asshole, but he was focused on a specific task and by helping us he was helping himself: once he had what he wanted he left us. Dmiri was a known criminal who did things only for the money and if our foe offered her enough coin she would likely change her allegiance — probably at the most inopportune (for us) moment. That plus there was a 500 gold piece bounty on Dmiri.

I suspect we’ll be forced to make similar unpleasant alliances or compromises in the future.

In the end we brought Dmiri (and her “plus one”) back to town. We also thought to carve her gang’s tattoos from the fallen (I skillfully carved these out with a dagger), which worked in our favor because we were paid a (lesser) bounty for these in addition to the substantial bounty for Dmiri.

Better still after hearing of Voz’s involvement in necromancy — having a squad of skeletons may sound cool until you think about how they came to be — the town council will meet to decide if they will sponsor a bounty on her return. Sigh. What the hell is there to discuss?

In any event we return to Guardian’s Way in the morning to deal with Voz with or without council approval.

Qantrip went up to the citadel to spend the night with the goblins. I intended to join her, but then the notion of a bed in an inn and hot cooked food changed my mind. Oh yes, having money is nice.

5 Arodus 4719, evening

Breachill

The morning began with bacon and eggs and toast and tea taken at the inn. I am sure the future holds more spartan lodging and dining conditions for us and so I feel no anxiety over spending coin for creature comforts when they are available.

Qantrip arrived back in town after breakfast and around that time the council decided that Voz was enough of a threat to sanction our plan to capture her and to offer a bounty — oh how I am beginning to like that word: I’m sure if I had one I’d wag my tail whenever someone said it — for her return to Breachill.

The walk to Guardian’s Way was uneventful, however we did see fresh tracks in the dirt we had scattered across the cave entrance.

Qantrip and I entered the dark cave to scout. To the north was a dark passageway and to the southeast a glimmer of light flickered from a tunnel. I crept forward and peeked around the rock wall to find a large chamber filled with supplies and three skeletal warriors. One looked more formidable than his companions.

I made my way back to the others and the plan was to set up a kill box just outside the natural choke point of the tunnel. We positioned ourselves accordingly but the skeletons refused to advance even though we were making a great deal of noise and intentionally trying to goad an attack.

We heard Voz call out to her boney cohorts to “protect the treasure to the north,” but it sounded like a lame bluff even to me. The others weren’t buying it either and as Qantrip pointed out, we were at a standoff.

But our brave goblin companion is also clever and she cast Burning Sands in the chamber beyond, which caused the skeletons to scamper. The big one came at her and got in a hit before Tarsius could pull her back. But then the rest of us took over and reduced the skeleton to a pile of inert bones.

It was a good time to watch our team work together. Aemi was inspiring us with a chant. Tarsius and Kyira were poised for melee, Liberte was standing watch at the northern passageway. And behind us all Marcus stood alert and silent, gazing ahead and ready to lend assistance either with a well placed spell or arrow. And this sums up my current impression of Marcus: he offers input and advice when needed and provides steadfast support in combat, doing whatever is needed.

Knowing we had such a well integrated group is a comfort in times of stress, like when a necromancer and her skeleton crew want you dead and are actively scheming to make you so.

But then we were back to waiting. Tarsius moved into the chamber to directly engage the remaining skeletons and I followed in behind, wisely (although not so bravely) using him as a shield. More skeletons were moving in now, but we had the upper hand and were grinding them down.

From the north I heard a puzzling conversation between Liberte and… something that lived up there. The caves were its home and it wasn’t particularly interested in us or Voz, but it wasn’t attacking us, which in my book counts as “friendly” when in combat.

Voz didn’t like seeing us take out her guard and she soon joined the fray with spells (and no small amount of ineffectual taunting). Everybody likes a well placed Fireball until they become the target of one. Most of us were burned to some degree, but by this time we were pressing our attack directly against Voz and her spells either failed to hit or lacked the punch necessary to drive us back.

And like her skeletons she was soon a crumpled heap on the rocky floor, bleeding out into the dust. I was about to try and stabilize her with my minimal mundane healing skills when Qantrip stepped up and did so with magic.

A witch is wise.

We explored the supplies and relieved the skeletons and Voz of various valuable and useful items.

To the north Liberte had established a cordial relationship with the huge spider like creature that called itself Tixitog that lived there. I hope to hear more about it later.

We gathered up the loot and discovered some rather informative, albeit puzzling (like what the hell is a “Scarlet Triad”?), documents that would also incriminate Voz in a number of illegal activities. We made a travois and dragged Voz back to Beachill.

Wilford Lavendil was quite impressed with the speed at which we had found, overcome, and delivered Voz. We also received the promised reward.

I don’t want to give the impression that money has become a more important aspect of my life — in fact I think the opposite is true. Having spent so much of my life with little to no gold to my name and having lived frugally in a hut with a goblin it is just a pleasant change to now be able to occasionally afford nice things in a modest sort of way.

Having said that, I am saving up coins for some better equipment. A superior bow is at the top of my list: something I can use to better take advantage of my strength with some sort of magical enchantment to more effectively hit and do damage. As such not every night will be spent in a cushy bed. Tonight, for example, I will be back in my tent just outside of town.

But by all means I will be eating my meals in town whenever possible.

Tarsius’ Journal, 3 Arodus

3 Arodus
post-lunch

So, having found a clue in the trash at the book store, we put our heads together to figure out “Guardian’s Way”.  Even though nobody had been born here or even lived here a week ago, we collectively determined it was a place, not a street, and from there it was easy to find it was another outpost left over from the Goblinblood Wars, but also now abandoned, much like our local citadel.  It was over 6 miles away, so more than a five minute walk but probably less than two hours at a leisurely pace.

A sometimes heated discussion ensued; Aemi felt that we needed to go straightaway to Guardian’s Way, while several of the rest felt we hadn’t yet made the citadel safe enough for the Bumblebrashers to move back, as we’d promised, and further, that task should be complete before we left town any farther than the citadel.

A compromise was reached.  Going to Guardian’s Way today would have us arriving in late afternoon and possibly exploring the outpost in dim light anyway.  So the rest of today would be spent taking care of loose ends in the citadel (like the skeletons in the holding cells and the gelatinous cube we found), making the place once again safe for the goblins, and then leaving in the morning for Guardian’s Way.  Aemi more than once said something about wanting to find the gate quickly, not necessarily Voz, but that the two might be intertwined.  In the end she agreed to leave tomorrow.

So, today, the next thing up was the skeletons.  In the short time we’d been together, we’d all improved in the things we do (like healing, destroying, and triggering traps) so we felt pretty sure that this encounter with the skeletons would go better.  We headed back to the citadel, headed over to the room outside the holding cells (without opening the door to the cells!) and surveyed that room.  We decided to move the existing furniture so as to create a passage that twisted back and forth before emptying into the middle of the room.  Bows and crossbows would get two or three shots before a skeleton reached the end, where melee experts would finish it off.  Additionally, using magic to open/close the door we could guarantee with fair certainty that only one skeleton at a time could come out the door, so they couldn’t gang up on anybody.

Very controlled.  Minimal risk.  Uh-huh.

First problem.  Without our being in the room of cells, the skeletons had no reason to come out.  So they didn’t.  Finally Qantrip jumped into the room, made a face at them and quickly jumped out the door.

That did it. They headed after her.

Second problem.  Liberté decided to use long arm to fight the skeleton “safely” over the barrier.  Unfortunately, when he and Marcus hit it, Kyira decided to advance into the labyrinth to finish it off.  But now she was the only target for every skeleton that came out of the room, and we’d intentionally built it to be narrow.  She was going to take damage every round now from whatever skeleton was before her, and also find it difficult to retreat because of the close quarters.

I think I missed every shot with my bow.  Although Kyira made sure the first skeleton was now a pile of bones, the second one hit Kyira especially well, and now she was in danger of dying at the hands (bones) of this second skeleton.  She tried to step back gingerly (and got another cut for her trouble) before formally and carefully disengaging, and I quickly cast shield of faith, drew my morningstar, stepped between the two of them and smacked it good – it fell and did not rise.

Well at this point our plan of safely shooting from a distance fell apart, at least for me.  Armored up and swinging a good chunk of pointy steel, I blocked the way to the others.  Between my armor and shield of faith, (and Liberté’s helping guard my flank) they had a tough time nicking me.  Eventually it was Gath who brought down the last one with a blunt arrow, but the whole thing didn’t go exactly as planned.  Not even close.  There’s probably a lesson here, but nothing we couldn’t learn again later.

With the skeletons out of the way, we were able to go into the room and seek out the magic we sensed there earlier.  There were a variety of weapons and minor magic items, but the breastplate of one of the skeletons caught my eye.  I can’t easily carry both it and my scale mail at the same time, but I think I’m going to trade up when next I have an opportunity to switch.

That taken care of, next up was the gelatinous cube.  What the heck led it to take up residence where it did??  After consultation with others in the group, it quickly became apparent that it was not a great pursuer, although it could probably dissolve both people and weapons if we obligingly embraced it.  So – distance weapons.

And fire.  Fire was very effective, so Qantrip’s burning hands were welcome.  Some fire, and some arrows, and we had ooze splashing all over the floor.  And a magical battleaxe retrieved from its interior.

Since we still had afternoon left after all that, Marcus and Gath checked out the tunnel to the Pickled Ear.  The end in the Ear’s basement no longer opened freely, so we supposed Roxie kept her promise of blocking it off.

Tomorrow, Guardian’s Way.

Aemi’s Journal, Arodus 3, 4719

Arodus 3, 4719

Breachill

Early Afternoon

I left Iskaryn to her temper tantrum and focused on lunch. I’d been turning events over in my head, trying to make sense of them. I laid out for the others what we knew.

“Voz learns about the Ring at some point in the past—it doesn’t matter when, but it’s before the Cinderclaws arrive—and starts exploring the citadel. She makes a couple of trips over time. She learns about, or already knew about, the tunnel. She pays Roxie off so she can use it without drawing suspicion.

“The Cinderclaws, meantime, arrive roughly a week ago, coming through the Ring itself, and take over the castle. They chase the Bumblebrashers up to the ramparts. The grauladons follow, and the stairs collapse, taking them out along with parts of the walls, leaving the stairwell choked with rubble. The Cinderclaws are now divided, and cut off. One of the two grauladons survives up above, and keeps the Bumblebrashers trapped.

“Sometime before the Call for Heroes, Calmont learns about the Ring, and where it is, from Voz’s notes. He hatches his plan to get the Bumblebrashers to show him.

“A few days before the Call for Heroes, Helba goes to the citadel, sees red smoke, and fears the worst. She starts telling people her concerns, and her plan to bring this up at the Call of Heroes. Word spreads, and Calmont hears about it.

“Calmont doesn’t want investigators, so he hatches this risky and brazen plan to burn down the Town Hall with everyone inside to stop the investigation before it starts. He needs a lot of help, because he’s an idiot, so he steals scrolls of summoning from Voz, and turns the creatures loose on the hall. He doesn’t wait around to see if it’s successful, because he’s an idiot, and then he’s seen running away, too, because he’s an idiot.

“We get tasked with the investigation, and visit Voz that afternoon. She is not an idiot, and deduces that Calmont is racing off to find Alseta’s Ring. She panics because he might actually beat her to it, and because her name was mentioned. That sends her scrambling back to the citadel with a plan of her own: get information from the Hellknights that are buried there. She trips some safeguard, the dead rise up against her, and she retreats in a panic, emerging from the tunnel in a frightened state. Roxie sees her.”

“Voz is desperate now to get to the Ring, and she’s learned of another way in. One that doesn’t involve clearing debris out of the stairwell. She closes up her shop, and takes off for Guardian’s Way.

“We have two actors, now that Calmont is out of the picture, both working independently: Voz and the Cinderclaws. The arrival of the latter started a chain reaction that spooked the former into action.”

While no one disagreed with this version of events, there was not much enthusiasm among the group for what we had learned from Voz. Some of them were concerned that we were becoming distracted by the bookseller’s ancillary role in events, and that the immediate goals were what we had promised to the Bumblebrashers and to the council: give the goblins their home back, and deal with the Cinderclaws.

“Promises were made to help the Bramblebrashers,” Trip said. “There remain skeletons, goblin dogs, and the Cinderclaws beneath the rubble to attend to. A witch does not wish to be an oath breaker when so few grains have passed through the hourglass of her life.”

Tarsius agreed. “A witch makes a good point with the vow to help the Bumblebrashers. While they might live there more safely now, they are not yet safe. I believe a case can be made for chasing Voz, but it still would not release us from our previous promises. I believe a witch is correct that our tasks here are not yet done.”

My argument was that Voz, the Cinderclaws, and Alseta’s Ring were, in fact, all the same problem. We weren’t after Voz so much as we were after what she found. If she did discover a way into Alseta’s Ring that didn’t require digging out two floors of stairwell choked with rubble, then maybe we should consider that.

“A Witch proposes, then, a compromise,” Trip said. “This day is half spent. The remainder could be afforded to securing the first floor, so that the Bramblebrashers can start clearing things. We would spend the night in safety rather than in the unknown wilds, then set out for this Guardian’s Way fresh in the morning. We fulfill our oath and lose little time in pursuit of this new objective.”

I felt like that was as good as I was going to get, so I agreed. And, honestly, Trip is right. I needed answers, yes, but we can’t just drop our agreement to the Bumblebrashers because the timing was inconvenient. 

And Iskaryn is already upset with me. She’s not fey, but she’s from a fey forest. Going back on a promise, or even appearing to, would only make things worse.

Sketches by Gath, Arodus 3-4, 4719

3 Arodus 4719, late morning

Breachill

We had accumulated a fair amount of loot from our exploits in the citadel. Loot is nice to have but unless there is something specifically useful in what you’ve gathered it really doesn’t do you much good. That’s when you need to go through everything and identify it all, and catalogue it, and figure out who wants what, and what to sell and what to keep because we might need it later, and then finally go to the merchants and sell the excess. Only then do you have actual gold coins to buy what you really need.

Back in the Chitterwood this was my task for the goblin tribe, and I really hated it.

Happily for us Kyira has a real knack for this tedious but necessary work. Although just watching her scribble on her ledger brings back unpleasant memories of my time in the Chitterwood sorting through goblin stashes, it is an actual pleasure to see her spin the random stuff we found into literal gold.

And while this was going on we decided that we should first return to the citadel and clean out the creatures we had left behind before moving on to Guardian’s Way.

3 Arodus 4719, night

Citadel Altaerein, Hellknight Hill

Our first goal was destroying the skeletons from the cells. We strategically positioned the tables and bookshelves in the adjoining rooms to create a pathway where the skeletons would be forced to move in single file. We could then pick them off with ranged attacks.

Qantrip’s familiar, Ouch, provided magical support, opening and closing doors to regulate the flow of undead into our staged combat zone. This worked greatly to our advantage because even with all of the recent combat we’ve experienced the skeletal warriors were still challenging foes.

Kyira discovered that she preferred melee fighting to ranged, which means she took a fair number of blows before Tarsius stepped in so she could back away and heal. We discover these crucial things about ourselves in the most inopportune times, but that is the way life can be.

We found a couple of potions and some silver weapons for our efforts.

Qantrip, Liberte and I moved the two worg puppies into one of the cells for safe keeping.

We then arranged for the goblins to keep them fed and watered and their area clean. Better still the goblins wanted to keep the goblin dogs in the entry way for their own.

I suspect she may look into weapons with a longer reach so she can whack away at her opponents from a step away rather than always go toe to toe.

This left the gelatinous cube down in the abandoned armory for us to deal with. And as it turns out if you had ranged weapons and magical attacks these slow moving jellies aren’t that much of a threat. Or at least ours wasn’t. Soon it was an inert slumping lump of ooze and we had retrieved the magical battle axe from its innards.

We had a pleasant dinner with the goblins and are resting here before our hike to Guardian’s Way in the morning.

4 Arodus 4719, afternoon

Guardian’s Way

It was a pleasant walk to Guardian’s Way. The path wasn’t well traveled and so the wilderness had encroached on the trail and the young thin woods that spread from either side provided dappled shade as well as an element of concealment.

Some distance out from our destination Aemi sent Iskaryn ahead to scout out the area. There was a good bit of back and forth between the two as Iskaryn seemed to think it a risky mission while Aemi pointed out that the bird was the most suited of us to get the lay of the land and make sure we did not blunder into a trap.

I had mentioned before that these two sounded like a married couple, and while at the time I had meant it as a gentle jab, I realized now just how apt the observation was. And I mean this now in a good way: Aemi and Iskaryn complement one another and combined they are a much more potent force than when they act individually.

Iskaryn returned a short while later and reported that the sparse tree cover continued all of the way up to a rise in the land. An old cabin sat before a cave entrance, and elevated wooden platforms were set among the trees about it. Half orcs armed with shortbows perched on these lofts keeping watch. There were thickets of trees and brush that could provide cover for our approach.

We brainstormed the best way to approach the cabin and deal with the armed lookouts.

It dawned on me that Iskaryn said the watchers were all wielding shortbows. Looking around the party I noticed that most of us had longbows or commanded magics that worked at a similar range. If we set up in the cover before the cabin out of optimal range from the platforms then we would have a significant advantage in an exchange of arrows.

Qantrip, Aemi and I would sneak up to one of the flanking platforms where a single half orc stood guard while the rest of the team would set up in the bracken at range in front. We would attempt to use stealth to work our way in, use sleep magic on targets of opportunity, and then the others would distract the bulk of the half orcs with a frontal attack.

Sure this took one of our primary archers (me) out of the mix, but the chaotic nature and audacity of the plan was too delicious to resist.

The three of us crept in while Iskaryn kept a watchful eye on the battlefield from above.

Qantrip easily put a watcher to sleep but as I was sneaking forward to clamber up the platform (and slit its throat) one of the other guards saw me and called the alarm.

Instantly I was struck hard by an arrow as the rest of my team sprang into action. Arrows flew (in both directions). Spells were set off. Dancing lights appeared and distracted several foes. I climbed up onto the platform and killed the sleeping half orc with our newly acquired battle axe, and then switched over to my trusty bow and began to pepper the other half orcs with arrows.

We soon had the upper hand and the remaining watchers climbed down and fled into the trees.  Our ranged force of Liberte, Kyira, Tarsius, and Marcus gave chase, forcing our foes to drop their weapons and leave.

At about this time a hobgoblin exited the cabin by a back door and I targeted it. Qantrip put it to sleep and I leapt from my perch to quickly restrain it with manacles.

She woke up and identified herself as Dmiri. She had a lot of attitude and kept making snarky comments until Liberte showed up and browbeat her into silence.

Tarsius peered into the cabin and detected several sources of magic from within a footlocker. I cautiously entered and after picking the pesky lock found various useful items.

Some of the others have begun to question Dmiri as I write this.

Tarsius’ Journal, 2-3 Arodus

2 Arodus

There was a niggling detail about the paintings we retrieved earlier that had been tickling the back of my mind, and I finally figured out what it was.  One of the well-preserved ones (frankly, maybe the only well preserved one) had a signature on it that matched Alak’s last name.  We’d inadvertently found another of Alak’s heirlooms.  We agreed to give it to him when we weren’t in the middle of something else (like removing non-residents) and he again seemed grateful at the offer.

Meanwhile, Gath was on a search-and-destroy mission, and after listening at the east door, he opened it … only to find another boggard waiting for someone to do just that.  Gath took a nasty smack from a morningstar before the boggard gave out a loud CROOAK that startled me momentarily.  However, we quickly converged on it and killed it for its trouble.

But that wasn’t the end of it.  There were noises from the next room over, so I quickly entered the room and found … two little ape-like creatures babbling at me in some kind of ape-speak.  Liberté paused and then gestured with his hands to hold back.  “They’re speaking Abyssal,” he said.  “And …” he looked at me a little surprised. “They’re surrendering.”

Their names were Skort and Venak, and yes they had been part of the Cinderclaws.  Conscripted, to hear them tell it. But they wanted out.

Liberté said they were Charowka, whatever that is.   I didn’t trust them, but I seemed to be the only one with that opinion.  They just wanted to go back where they came from, but the magic to do that was not theirs. A priest named Rank Marshmallow – sorry, Mallowrank I think. Using Liberté as a translator was helpful but also frustrating.  How do I know if he’s translating or even pronouncing things correctly?   oh well.

Anyway they agreed to stay inconspicuously outside until we found Mallowrank and either learned the secret of sending them home, or convinced Mallowhead to do it himself.  Mellowhead apparently worships some dragon named DaHock. Skort and Venak said the magic portal was below us and now inaccessible because of the collapsed stairs.

They also mentioned more than once the creature that the goblins had nicknamed Big Bumble and which the goblins had sadly decided was too dangerous to keep around.  Skort and Venak also confirmed the creature was dangerous.  Given that we knew this to be a young bear, I’m not surprised.

I don’t remember if it was Gath or Aemi who suggested we release the bear back to the wild, but via one or more rooms that still contained live Cinderclaws.  The idea was that with just a little bit of guidance, the bear would, uh, help clear the room(s) as it exited the citadel.

It did exactly that; even better, it died in the attempt.  (I’ll admit to some concern that such a dangerous beast would end up living too close to Breachill.)  We had the forethought to post some watchers along the way in case either the bear or the Cinderclaws went off course.  Qantrip found one staggering boggard had escaped the bear, but a brief encounter with Kyira’s sword made that a hollow victory.

The room that held the pieces of cultist (the bear was somewhat indiscriminate) also held a few bits of value – a tanglefoot bag here, a vial of alchemical fire there.  We did find a morningstar, and I considered a moment before taking custody of it.  Sometimes a sword just isn’t the right tool; a morningstar is much more effective against foes like skeletons with visual gaps in their bodies and brittle bones as their foundation.

Slowly, we were cleaning up the citadel.  And in the back of our minds the idea was firmly planted that this would eventually be ours, if we but found the deed.  Having dealt with both the cultists and the bear, our checklist was getting shorter.

We knew of the one room with the bewitched doll or puppet, but there were still a few others to look over before the grounds could be declared safe for goblins.  Fresh on the heels of arranging for the bear to kill the cultists, several thought it might be a good idea to lure or direct the doll into the tombs and let the undead there kill it.  A small part of me wondered if they were not in fact kindred spirits but I’ll admit I also got caught up in the excitement of setting up these virtual dominoes, kicking over the first one, and watching everything fall into place.

Didn’t quite go to plan.

We lured the doll out, yes.  It was still fixated on our taking it with us, yes.  But then it spotted Qantrip in the shadows, still wearing that Hellknight Novice Badge that seemed to placate the skeletons.  It did not placate the doll; instead, it lunged for Trip.  Long story short, we ended up battling it right there in the hallway, and Alak himself, ironically, took out the doll that was yelling at him to take it along.

He theorized it may have been a created companion gone badly and yes, probably was intentionally left behind because of its creepy behavior.

Other than the skeletons in the tombs, and a couple of rooms beyond, our task was nearly done. (That seems so understated when said out loud.  “Except for the skeletal undead, everything was fine.”)  Well, and the gelatinous cube. In any case, we could now inspect “the doll room” and move on to the “tomb rooms”.

The doll room looked like it may have been a planning room in its day, but this was not its day.  A couple of boggard bodies lay here and, scattered about the room, we eventually found about 35 little (maybe hand-sized) figures of Hellknights in various armors and with various weapons.  Alak did not recognize any of them specifically, so perhaps these were just markers used when planning out strategies.  Liberté didn’t think they had any intrinsic value and they did not radiate magic, but we made a mental note to follow up on that back in town with the archivist.

Proceeding to the tomb rooms, we found what appeared to be an archive of historical books and papers and – perhaps most surprising – some recent footprints in the decades old dust.  There were some magical scrolls here held down by a holy symbol of Alseta as a paperweight. Kyira determined they were darknessdark visioncure light wounds, and magic missile.  There was also a valuable looking silver and garnet ring that was not magical.

There were a few candle stubs on the table that caused both Gath and I to conclude there’s been some sort of necromantic spell or ceremony performed here recently.  But Alak interrupted as he stared at the ring.  “That was my father’s! I remember playing with it as a child. It’s exactly the sort of thing I’d hoped to find.”  Well of course we had to give it to him.

Following the tracks led to an even bigger surprise, though.  At the back of one of an adjacent room, there was a dirt passage leading away into the earth.  Following it carefully for hundreds if not thousands of feet, we found ourselves emerging in the basement of the Pickled Ear.

We discussed the implications of all this.  We concluded that it had probably been Roz and she was probably the one who literally woke the dead.  Judging from the haste in which she left, it probably was not appreciated by the warriors in the tombs.

That evening, back in town, there was a strange revelation over dinner. While discussing the day’s events, Aemi seemed to reach some internal conclusion and suddenly told us a bunch more about her life than any of us knew, or could have made up, for that matter. She was not just the awkward poor-shooting musician she appeared to be.  She has some sort of double life homeless rich girl dead parent guilt thing going on.  With music.  And I still don’t fully understand where the bird fits in, because that’s no normal bird.  I guess it’s a compliment of sort to be let in on all this, but whew, I’m just .. I’m tired now. I don’t know whether to offer her my condolences or congratulations.

And I used to think “this sword was my grandpa’s” was a conversation starter. Whew.

 

Later that evening, we were thinking we had not ruffled enough feathers in town yet, so at Aemi’s suggestion we went to talk to Roxie Denn (owner of the Pickled Ear) about the earthen passage in her basement.

She was all innocent-faced at first but we quickly reconvened in her office where we could talk without all the bar happening around us.  “Us” happened to be Gath, Aemi, Kyira, Marcus, and myself.  She tried to be surprised before finally bursting. “She just paid me to use it.  Didn’t tell me more than that, and I didn’t ask. You don’t cross a woman like Voz.  She does that bad magic stuff (“Necromancy?”) yeah, that stuff. I swear, I’ll block it off in my basement and that’ll be the end of it.  No need for the council to be involved.”

Aemi soothed the apparently aggrieved tavern owner by suggesting that simply blocking the entrance in her basement would improve things immensely.  And of course, making sure that Voz didn’t use it anymore.

Before returning to the main bar, Aemi took Gath aside and said softly, “I understand you have some skill at entering places that are apparently blocked. I have an idea …”

3 Arodus

The next morning, most of the group met in front of The Reliant Book Company – Voz’s shop. (Liberté went off to talk with the archivist again.)  A sign hung from the door: Away on Business Until Further Notice.  The door was locked.  The plan had been to interview Voz, perhaps with vigor, and get her to tell us what she knew.  But now …

“Since she’s not here, we should search inside,” said somebody.  I startled a bit, and said, “I think we need to get permission from the council to do that.”  There were some quick glances exchanged between the other folks before Trip came over and said, “That’s a good point.  Why don’t you go do that?”

Well, there was no battle or magic needed here right now, so that seemed like a good idea. “Ok,” I replied, and headed off to the council chambers.  As I left, the group was talking animatedly, and several were pointing at the storefront; Gath was shaking his head slightly in apparent disagreement and pointing down a side alley.

I made it to the Town Hall and had the good fortune to find the councilor Greta in her office.  She looked up with a questioning look.  I was hoping that what I was about to ask was a common question with a common answer because I’ve never been involved in government or even in a courtroom.  After a bit she asked pleasantly, “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m with the group who brought Calmont back and who is working at making the citadel safe again, and we have a need to get into a house – business really – but I’m pretty sure that needs a piece of paper or something?”

She looked a bit confused and said, “Yes, I thought you were working at clearing out the citadel, so what house or business are you asking about?”

I was already sensing that I’d asked the question wrong, because I was pretty sure the answer was yes, we needed some paper or permission just like I told the group.  So I explained a little further. “Right, yes, but as part of that investigation we’ve found that somebody has, I think, or we think, that a person has been visiting the citadel by a secret tunnel” – and I realized I shouldn’t say the name because they haven’t been formally accused of anything – “and we want to, you know, better understand that circumstance, but there’s a sign on the door that they -”

Greta interrupted, “Which is fine, so you certainly should interview them then.”

She wasn’t getting it. I never wanted to be a law expert or even a town official and this was why.  The rules and the forms and the customs just, well back in Logas it just was easier. “Right, but like I said there’s a sign saying they’re gone and don’t know when they’ll be back so since they aren’t here we just wanted to go and collect the information without them by looking at their records and stuff.”

Greta had a look now that my grandpa gave me once when when I told him that old people think differently. Not old like my father but really old like my grandpa.  Her eyes seemed set and her lips got thin. “You want permission to search their home or office while they’re gone?”

“Yes!” I gave a big sigh. “Yes exactly!  Is this where we get that paper or whatever?”

Greta turned her head slightly like maybe one eye could see me better than the other. “Well, what do you suspect them of?” she asked slowly. “We’d need the town guard to be present as well and a solid reason. What’s going on?”

Ok, now we were getting somewhere. I was pretty sure Voz was up to something but I wanted to make sure we’re following whatever the rules are in Breachill for this sort of thing. I’m kind of liking this place and don’t want to get anybody mad at us.  “Well… we’re in the middle of it right now, so it’s still kind of fuzzy but that’s why we need to… Remember Calmont? and the bookstore? and Voz and all that? There seems to be more to that story.”

I nodded and smiled.  Smiling always helps, or at least it did that time with grandpa.

But if anything, Greta turned her head another notch and now it was pretty much one eye staring me down.  I rephrased my point.  “And, so we want to talk to Voz about it to… you know, learn more about it, but there’s a sign on her door that says she’s away on vacation or something, and no indication of when she’ll be back.  So if we knew when she’d be back it would be easier, but we don’t so we’ll have to look at her stuff to get the information.”

Greta’s one eye was narrowed into almost a slit now.  “So you don’t really know if she’s done anything, you want to find out more, but you want to search her private office while she’s away.”

I almost did an eyeroll but caught myself.  Finally she got it.  I guess I just hadn’t been very clear. “So, right, we’re not at all sure it’s anything yet, but it could be and if it is, then we need to know, so, yeah.”

Greta looked at me with both eyes again now.  “If you’re not even sure a crime has been committed, this is quite premature. It sounds like this can all wait until she returns.  If you had any actual evidence that she committed a crime then we could justify searching her place now.”

And boom, it hit me.  I was thinking we needed the paper before we could start, but Greta was telling me we could get it after, once it was clear there was a crime.  “So if we have actual evidence of a crime then we should come back with that.”

Greta sighed. “Yes,” she said simply.

By way of clarification I asked, “So if there was evidence that she was, say, rummaging through other people’s things, like breaking and entering?”  I was thinking she had gone through Calmont’s stuff so it should be pretty easy to get that evidence.

“Yes, that would be a crime,” responded Greta.  “Do you have evidence of that?”

“Not right now, but if I do, I’ll be back.”

Greta did the one-eye thing again and watched me all the way out the door before returning to her work.

Returning to the bookstore, I found our group and reported that I’d talked to Greta and as long as we found evidence of a crime, it was ok for us to go in.  Aemi looked like she was going to say something, but shook her head slightly like she was a little dizzy or something and was trying to clear her vision.  She said that fortunately for us, Voz had been sloppy when discarding her trash, and they had found a partial note that suggested she had found another way into Alseta’s gate via someplace called Guardian’s Way.  They also found some related notes that Voz had written that may prove useful.

Aemi’s Journal, Arodus 2–3, 4719

Arodus 2, 4719

Breachill

Late Afternoon

We have a clearer picture of what is happening thanks to our time in the lower level of the citadel. Two distinct threads have intertwined.

We still have no proof that Alseta’s Ring really exists, but the evidence is mounting, and at this point? I think it’s a foregone conclusion. When the Cinderclaws appeared, they brought with them a whole menagerie of creatures and beings that simply do not belong in this part of the world: man-sized birds with brilliant plumage and sharp beaks, simian humanoids known as the charau-ka, boggards—not unheard of in this part of the world but far from their ideal habitat—and of course those grauladons.

The birds were obnoxious and loud. In other words, a lot like Iskaryn, only much larger.

The boggards were even more of the same. There is something unsettling about killing sentient creatures, but they wanted a fight, and we obliged.

The charau-ka wanted to talk. They were not thrilled with being dragged here, and even less so about getting trapped underground with only the boggards for company (who would?). All they wanted was to go home. So we cut a deal with them: we promised to help them, and they told us what was going on.

So what’s going on? The charau-ka were warriors under the Gorilla King, whoever that is. When their king died unexpectedly, they fell in with the Cinderclaws. And who, exactly, are the Cinderclaws? They’re a cult of Dahak that’s led by a priest named Malarunk. Said priest brought this group through the “great portal”, which we assume connects to Alseta’s Ring, to invade the “foreign lands for the glory of their god”.

How did they end up being trapped here? Malarunk used some token to open the portal on their end so they could pass through, and apparently, he is the only one who can do it, so there was no returning without him. Then the stairwell collapsed, stranding them on this level to slowly starve to death.

It goes without saying that the secret passage we used to get in is pretty well hidden, and none of them knew it was there.

This cult of Dahak worshippers, by the way, lines up a little too well with Marcus’s visions. So I guess we have that to look forward to.

The other thread is closer to home. Someone from Breachill has been visiting the Citadel as well, specifically this level of it. We are reasonably sure that “someone” is Voz, which would explain how Calmont got wind of all this.

And what was Voz up to? Short answer: disturbing the dead. Which went about as well as you’d expect.

The Hellknights entombed their dead here in an ossuary of sorts, and she visited it not long ago. We found remnants from a ritual or spell that, as near as we could tell, was designed to allow her to speak with them. We also saw the graves she violated. Her footprints told the story: she entered the crypt at a leisurely pace, and left in a panic.

Almost as interesting as her new career in grave robbery was how she got in and out of the citadel: there’s another secret entrance on this level, just beyond the crypts. A magically carved tunnel that runs all the way to Breachill. It emerges through a secret door into the storeroom of The Pickled Ear. Given that storerooms tend to have their walls lined with shelving that are filled with, well, stores, the fact that this one was unobstructed implies that the tavern’s owner, Roxie Denn, knows about it, too.

Putting that all together, we have one person who is seeking a way in to Alseta’s Ring, and the Cinderclaws who are already there but seeking a way out. Part of me is kind of curious what would happen if the two factions were to actually meet, but I think it’s more important that we keep them apart just in case they were to find some common ground. I know this reeks of “the only person I trust with it is me” syndrome, but we already know what the Cinderclaws’ motives are, and Voz’s actions have not exactly inspired a great deal of trust.

Not that we’re much better. We haven’t informed the town about any of this, either.

As for the Hellknights…I don’t know. What do you want me to say? If Alak is your typical example, they’re kind of awful in a personable sort of way. They talk a lot about “the savages” like they’re a mistake that needs fixing, a single monster with a million faces. “The savages must be quelled in land, home, and mind,” and “sometimes in the pursuit of order, one must work with ‘the savages’ temporarily.” Qantrip pointed out that when Alak refers to “the savages,” he is also describing her kind, too. It’s all very dehumanizing. Maybe just call them “people”, Alak. Except if you do that, then I guess they become people, and then you have no one to subjugate.

We don’t have Hellknights in Druma, but we have plenty of that attitude. I grew up with it. Nine Hells, I believed in it. But I’ve grown up some—shut up, Iskaryn!—and now it just makes my skin crawl. Serves me right, I suppose, for venturing out in the world.

Night

Alak left for Varisia today. I expected him to at least stay the night in town and set out in the morning, but he seemed anxious to be gone. Maybe that’s for the best, since his presence in town was notably awkward, and perhaps the only time—in my many days of experience—where the people here have been anything but open and welcoming. It wasn’t bordering on hostile like my time in Saringallow, but he was getting more than a few cold shoulders and dark looks wherever he went.

My understanding—again, I have days of experience to draw upon for these sweeping statements—is that Breachill liked the business a Hellknight Citadel brought, but not the Hellknights themselves. Fortunately for the town, the Hellknights kept to themselves, doing whatever it is that Hellknights do when they aren’t on some grand crusade, and their dealings with Breachill were transactional rather than social. Which, honestly, sounds like the healthiest arrangement for all involved.

After dinner, long after Alak had gone, we paid a visit to the Pickled Ear. I’ll be blunt. It’s the sort of tavern I spent months on the road hoping I could avoid, and not always successfully. There are establishments you visit because you are willing to compromise your standards, and those that you visit because the alternative is starvation or exposure.

The Pickled Ear is the latter.

It takes a hard personality to run a tavern where there are almost nightly brawls between drunken gamblers, some of which get well out of hand. Roxie Denn, the owner, more or less met my expectations. She was loud, brash, and immediately suspicious. I was able to convince her to meet with Gath and me because I’ve had plenty of experience with the type.

After brief introductions, I cut straight to the chase. I figured that would work best.

“We’ve been investigating some problems at the citadel on the hill, and—funny thing—we found an underground tunnel.” I lowered my voice and added, “And it led into your store room.”

She paused way too long before saying, “You have got to be joking.”

I played along. “I can show it to you, if you want.”

Another long pause. “Why don’t you come into my office, where we can discuss it privately?”

She tried to bluff us. And I can’t say I blame her. Nine Hells, given what I had been doing before…well, before…I certainly couldn’t judge her. But this was important, and potentially dangerous, and we needed to get that through to her.

“Somebody’s using your tavern to access the citadel. Robbing graves. Stirring up undead. And it’s attached to your business. I would think you’d want to know. And recently, a cult known as the Cinderclaws moved into the castle, and they’re rather violent. Anyone who is going to and from that place probably has dealings with them.”

She seemed genuinely surprised. This was clearly the first thing we had told her that was actually news. So I pressed our advantage with a little fishing.

“At least one person we do know who has gone out there—Calmont Trenault, who you probably heard was arrested for trying to burn down the town hall—was working for Voz Lirayne. And Calmont has a habit of talking without stopping. And he was throwing a lot of suspicion on Voz.”

Another pause. “So…you’re here from the Town Council?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it that they want from me about all of this?” she asked nervously.

“They don’t want anything from you. But I have a feeling Voz is using you. And you could get swept up in it.”

That struck a nerve. She buried her face in her palm, shaking her head slowly. It was like watching a damn burst. “She just paid me! That’s it! That’s my only involvement. I don’t know nothin’ else ’bout it or what she’s up to. Okay? I don’t have anythin’ else to do with…with…any of that.”

That was the arrangement, then. Voz paid her to look the other way, and she’d use the tunnel as she pleased. No questions asked. The last time was just a couple of days ago, just as we had suspected.

“I don’t have nothin’ else to do with her or that creepy business o’ hers. Like I say, she just came to me with her offer to let her use the tunnel. That’s all.”

“All right. We appreciate your time. But…if I were you? I’d put some shelves in front of that tunnel and stop her from using it.”

“Maybe,” she said, looking troubled. “But Voz ain’t exactly safe to cross.”

“Fair, though she might not be back,” I said. “Last time she was over there, she tried a ritual to speak with the dead, and something went wrong. It looks like she woke up something which chased her back out of there.”

We took our leave while that was soaking in.

My gut tells me that she blocked the entrance not long after.

Late Night

Iskaryn is insisting that I write this down. Her argument is that, when it comes to how I have run my life, I tended to practice “selective honesty”. Those are her words, by the way, and I got the distinct feeling that she was holding back. She said tonight was a turning point, and that’s why I need to do this. Why it’s necessary to do it right now, tonight, instead of in the morning, is anyone’s guess. But she seems to think it’s important, and because I’d like to actually sleep at some point, and am just too tired to get into an argument with her, anyway, I am giving in.

Tonight at dinner, before our business with Roxie, the conversation went somewhere I had not intended, and by the end of it, I had told them far more than I ever planned to. By the end of it, I had told them everything.

Iskaryn is objecting again. She now says I am “inclined towards fiction when facts prove inconvenient”. I am beginning to think that all roasted fowl taste pretty much the same.

Fine. Not everything. I told them where I am from, even my name for Magdh’s sake, and why I left home. Including the part about leaving my father to essentially die alone as a pauper in a crumbling estate, without even seeing him first. And if you think that was somehow easy, then you don’t understand at all why I have a tendency towards “selective honesty”. So, yeah.

They know about Macridi, and what I had built for myself there.

And that I razed that one, too.

I couldn’t bring myself to talk about Davio and the others. It’s still too hard. Too raw. But they know that something terrible happened, and that I ended up alone in the Forest. Ended up like my father, only somehow with even less.

I didn’t know what to expect. I guess I expected them to leave me. To write me off. But they didn’t. It was quiet for a while. How could it not be? For whatever reason, they still want me here. Even with Iskaryn as part of that deal.

When I got to the Norns, I said that the gods don’t tend to intervene in our affairs. Not directly. Magdh, though, is an Eldest, and a seer, and she meddles as she sees fit. The Norns are the instruments through which she shapes events.

I admitted I don’t know why I was selected, or chosen, or singled out. I don’t think I’m special. That would be a ridiculous conclusion to draw from all of this. I was just there. At a turning point in my life at the right moment. Or the wrong one, depending on your perspective.

Kyira believed her experience was different. She really believed she was visited by Milani. And I believe her. I am no expert on the divine, but I know the basics, and Druma shares a border with Kyonin, so I sure as the Nine Hells know of Milani. She’s a young goddess, and it’s said she still remembers her time here clearly. So she, too, is prone to meddling. Perhaps even more so.

I don’t know where I am going with this. I guess I am trying to make sense of the circumstances that brought us here. About this urge I have to put down roots. Real roots as myself.

I have told these people—my friends—things I have never told anyone. It’s only been a few days, and they know more about me than even the Minstrels did in months of travel. It’s frightening. More so than the physical threats we have faced.

I would honestly rather fight another grauladon.

Arodus 3, 4719

Breachill

Noon

Given her clandestine visits to the Citadel and penchant for disturbing the dead, we paid a visit to Voz this morning. Unfortunately, Voz wasn’t home: her shop had been locked up, and she didn’t answer when we knocked on the door.

Tarsius went to the town council, seeking permission for a search. The rest of us stayed behind and looked around while we waited. Fortunately for us, Voz had been sloppy when discarding her trash, and we found a partial note that suggested she had found another way into Alseta’s gate via someplace called Guardian’s Way. Which is good because, according to Tarsius, we didn’t have sufficient evidence of misdeeds to justify a forced entry.

Iskaryn was not happy with me. We were supposed to meet the others for lunch and review what we learned—Liberte and Marcus were doing more digging at the archives—and she was strangely distant and silent on the way there. Normally, the issue with Iskaryn is getting her to stop lecturing me, so when I get the silent treatment, something is seriously wrong.

I hung back so I could talk to her while the others went inside the tavern.

“What has gotten into you?” I asked her.

“I am not comfortable with these risks you’re taking. Especially when they involve me.”

“You look like any other bird,” I replied. “What is there to worry about?”

“How many indigo birds do you see in this town? People are going to figure it out, you know.”

“You’ve picked up the common tongue. You heard what Tarsius said. We weren’t going to get permission.”

“My point exactly,” she retorted.

“Since when do you care about the rules?”

“As you so tactfully point out, I don’t. But I don’t have to. Because I am a bird.”

“Nine Hells, Iskaryn! What do you want from me?!” I snapped.

“I want you to remember that we have to live here, and that what affects you affects me. I am not the one who has to answer to these people. You are.”

And then she flew off.

Sketches by Gath, Arodus 2-3, 4719

2 Arodus 4719, midday

Citadel Altaerein, Hellknight Hill

The others sifted through the stuff, both useful and useless, that the boggards had with them and we were ready to continue exploring eastward. I opened the door and was met by another boggard who was soon joined by his companion.

Things were again taking an unfriendly turn when amazingly the boggards called for a truce. Mercifully Liberte spoke their language (Boggardeese?) and we were able to work out an arrangement where they would help us in exchange for their freedom.

I like it when people are reasonable and was quite happy with this deal, but clearly Alak was not. Up until this point I had only been slightly annoyed by the want-to-be Hellknight’s attitude, but his comments made me glad that the Hellknights had abandoned the citadel and we only had to deal with the one arrogant prick.

Our two new allies were named Skort and Venak and they were a font of information. Back in their homeland, far to the south, their leader had been overthrown and a large number of their people joined up with a group of cultists called the Cinderclaws. These cultists were led by a priest called Malarunk and it was he who led them through a portal and into the citadel. Once here the plan had been to take over the surrounding lands, but this was delayed by the stairwell collapse that isolated Malarunk and a large group of Cinderclaws on the level below us from the remaining cultists on this level.

Skort and Venak were done with the entire shit show and just wanted to get back home. They confirmed that there were a handful of others still on this level waiting to ambush us and that the goblin’s bear was trapped in a chamber to the north. They said bear had already chewed through several cultists before they gave up on trying to deal with it.

This gave us the idea to release the bear into the room where the remaining Cinderclaws were waiting and let it deal with them. Combining skills we were able to do just that and we were left with only one grievously wounded boggard. Sadly the bear perished.

We searched the chambers and found a handful of useful items and saw where they had been trying to tunnel their way out (they did not know of the secret way we had used to get down here).

We began to wonder about how to get down to the lower level which led us to searching more on this level. There was the problem of the wicked little creepy doll to deal with and so we came up with another cunning plan to lead the doll into the catacombs and let the skeletons finish it off. This plan did not go as smoothly as the previous one. The doll’s lust for vengeance against Hellknights made it focus on Alak. But in the end the doll was destroyed.

Alak guessed that the doll was created by a Hellknight back when they lived here and they decided not to take it with them when they left. And thus the doll’s hatred for the order. I can’t blame it and the best part about the encounter was seeing the little mini Hellknight devil doll fearlessly attack Alak.

We found a few more useful items and briefly entertained the thought of attacking the jelly cube in the back room but decided (wisely) to return later with more fire based magic.

This left the doors at the east end of the catacombs to explore.

There was a chamber with a table and a store room beyond these doors, and recent footprints that showed someone had come this way, left through one of the doors into the catacombs and then hurriedly returned through the other door.

We found more interesting items in the chamber, including a ring which had belonged to Alak’s father. He was thrilled because this was what he came to the fortress to find, and he announced he would be returning home.

While the young fighter was certainly useful to have around in a scrape, his narrow world view did not fit in with the rest of the group and I will be happy to see him leave.

But this was not the most important find beyond the catacombs. We found a tunnel that took us all of the way back to Breachill and into the basement of the Pickled Ear! With this knowledge in hand we returned to the citadel and took Skort and Venak up and out into the surrounding woods. We advised them to be wary but to hang out in the vicinity because we might at some point be able to return them to their homeland.

2 Arodus 4719, night

Breachill

We returned to Breachill with Alak and Warbal. Warbal agreed to update the town council on what was happening at the citadel while the rest of us joined Alak for a last drink before he departed.

Over dinner Aemi told us more about her past. She was apparently a child of a well to do but highly dysfunctional family which eventually left her penniless and homeless and put her on a perilous path that brought her here. It sounded a lot less pleasant than my humble background.

After that talk turned to our next actions. Aemi felt that Voz, the bookstore owner, was deeply involved in what was happening at the citadel, and her theory made a lot of sense. We decided to head over to the Pickled Ear and talk to the owner, Roxie Denn, to see what she knew about the secret passageway between her place and the citadel.

Some folks are people persons — not just those of us who enjoy the company of others, but those who actually know how to interact with people, read their body language, and sway them to different ways of thinking. Hanspur knows I am not one of them! But Aemi and Liberte are. Tarsius acts as if he is, but, well I’ll get to that later.

As such I found it is best to let Aemi or Liberte do the talking for the group. If I have an idea or an opinion I want conveyed I find it better if I pass it on to them and let them integrate it into the conversation.

Thus at the Pickled Ear it was Aemi that did the talking as Liberte carefully watched and the rest of us hung around, trying hard not to look threatening. It helped that we were officially employed by the town council. It also helped that we already suspected Voz and so had a convenient person whom Roxie could throw under the bus when she realized we were totally onto her.

Yeah, Voz paid her for discrete access to the tunnel and had used it just days before. Aemi looked at me and suggested we might need to get into someplace we weren’t supposed to be.

I was totally on board with that.

3 Arodus 4719, morning

Breachill

On the way to the Reliant Book Company Liberte split off to see the Breachill archivist and share some of what we had discovered at the citadel.

At the bookshop a notice signed by Voz was prominently hung on the door stating that it was closed until further notice.

“Well that’s convenient,” I offered, “because it means there is no better time to go in and look around.”

Tarsius thought it was a good time to get a search warrant from the town council. Bless his heart. But Aemi suggested he go do that while we waited.

Some time later, after the rest of us had searched Voz’s place, he returned a little dejected. It seemed that council woman Gardania was more interested in protecting the rich and powerful than administering justice, and nothing Tarsius said had changed her mind.

While he was away keeping the authorities distracted we entered the building through a back window, and after disarming a few traps and unlocking a few locked doors we found that Voz had left in a hurry. We didn’t completely loot the place, although it was tempting — what better way to counteract someone bent on harming the community than to use their own tools against them? We did find a book, some magical scrolls, and more importantly a scrap of paper that read, “Aha! Entrance to Alseta’s Ring-Guardian’s Way.”

We learned that Guardian’s Way was a fortified outpost some six miles out of town.

Now what?

Tarsius’s Journal, 2 Arodus

2 Arodus

Having made a number of areas in the Keep safer, and having killed at least one animal that we thought might serve as food,  we decided to bring in the Bumblebrashers.  They went to town on the turtle creature.  Helba asked if this meant they had their home back, and we replied no, not yet, but they would eventually.  They all seemed pleased with that answer.

The goblin dogs were not theirs, but they were intrigued by the idea of having mounts.  They said they’d take them under their Bumblebrasher wings.  We mentioned they might have use for the worg puppies and the conversation turned somber.  “Big Bumble” said Helba sadly and the other goblins turned their eyes to the ground. “That did not go as planned.”

Apparently they’d had the same idea in the past, and lured an animal to raise as their pet/mascot.  Unfortunayely, they selected a grizzly bear and, well … it is now kept in one of the rooms downstairs until they can figure out what to do with it.  They feel responsible for it, even though it sounds like it now considers them just food.

I’m not sure we can fix that but we can keep it in mind.

One of our group asked if the secret way in she’d spoke of earlier was goblin sized or human sized.  “Oh, it’s suitable for you big people. We discovered it but we didn’t create it.”  Helba then drew us a crude map of the area beneath the Keep, with some areas clearly marked as dangerous.  (Of course, what’s dangerous for a goblin may not be dangerous to larger people like ourselves.)

Wait, did I just call them people?  All I knew of goblins before were some uncivilized animals with sharp weapons, spilling out of the Chitterwood and trying to lay waste to my home town.  These goblins, well, they speak Common, and they wear normal .. ish .. clothes and at times are actually polite and deferential.  This is so weird.

We asked about the cultists and Helba said they were both big and small.  Some were small ape-like creatures that apparently were intelligent.  Trip later remembered something like “charuka”.  And yes, these big and small people did use weapons, not just claw and bite.

Bored, Trip opened a door. (This could get old fast) It was a library, I think; it definitely had books .. a law library maybe?  It was a hot mess though.  To the north was another library room, but much less disheveled.

Nearby was what seemed to be a prisoner intake, or maybe holding cells before a trial?  Several still had decomposed bodies in them.  A storage cabinet nearby was radiating magic, but as Gath went to inspect the bodies, they unexpectedly rose up and attacked.  I quickly came up with a plan to make them walk thru a kill box, but one hit from the longsword one of the skeletons picked up convinced me that staying to fight would kill me; maybe kill all of us except maybe Alak.  We hastily withdrew from the room and I swallowed a healing potion.

We explored a bit more of the first floor and found what appeared to be a barracks.  Unfortunately, what was nesting there was a bugbear, not any soldiers.  Unlike the skeletons, it thoughtfully died when we returned its attack, and quickly too.  We found some things in the room that might have a minor resale value, and moved on.

At this point we heard a call from outside, and there we found a messenger from the Council.  They brought the good news that the Council will indeed pay us to further cleanse the Keep of illegally residing creatures.

At this point, Helba took us to the secret entrance and showed us how to operate it.  She thern hastily beat a retreat to the now-cleared ground floor.  As we were entering it, Alak was telling us of a legend that the deed for the Keep still resided within, and anyone brave enough and strong enough to gain access to it became the new owner of the Keep.  That is a fun story, but it also sounds like a story children would tell each other before daring them to enter.  If it’s real, I’ll be very surprised.

Anyway, we entered a wide corridor that was easily identifiable on Herba’s map.  But much to our surprise, there were two iridescent birds waiting in the darkness.   They started squawking most unpleasantly. And when our light shone upon them, one of them apparently dazzled both Gath and Alak with their irridescent feathers, and they became confused and disoriented.  Gath tried to shoot me but missed (lucky for him).  Their confusion was fairly brief, and we proceeded.

At the end of the hall lie 3 doors, and Gath quickly listened at each one to hastily triage which we might want to enter first.  One we gently peeked into and there was a doll insisting whoever its current companion was should TAKE IT WITH THEM.  We found this a bit creepy and observed for maybe five minutes before concluding that the last thing we wanted was for this doll to join us.  Gath quietly closed the door.

We quietly checked as many passages and doors as we could. One, we found, was a tomb and the dead rose, again as skeletons, so we voted to leave.  We did learn that by wearing certain Order of the Nail patches,  the skeletons ignored us, so we conjectured that they may simply be protecting the tomb against robbers.  However, even in bones and no flesh, they appeared stronger than us and besides, there was over a dozen, which made staying particularly dangerous.  Something is wrong in that room, but I’m not sure it is anything we can fix (yet).

Behind another door we found two highly annoying kobolds, who insisted they were dragons.  I was ready to slay the “dragons”, but others in the group thought it better to throw them a dead bird as “tribute” and keep them alive.

In another northern room we found two boggards, and although one croaked loud enough to startle Gath, we managed to kill them both without too much difficulty.

The boggards had a “cinder claw” marking on their clothes, but it wasn’t clear if they’d stolen clothing or they belonged to the cult.  Either way, this was the first sign we were getting closer to the cultists.  Perhaps we can make these guys leave now.

Aemi’s Journal, Arodus 2, 4719

Citadel Altaerin

Afternoon

We reunited Warbal with the Bumblebrashers and then got to work.

Put a few holes in the side of a building and let it sit for a few years, and all kinds of creatures will wander inside to make a home. Do that with a stone building large enough to qualify as a fortress, just to pick a random example, and the place can practically support an entire ecosystem. 

That’s exactly what we found inside Citadel Altaerein.

Maybe it’s because I was raised in Druma, but I find it criminal that the Order of the Nail spent significant time and money building this Citadel, only to walk away and leave a crumbling ruin in its place. I suppose the Bumblebrashers, goblin dogs, the worg and its puppies, giant rats, spider swarms, the bugbear, and whatever in the Nine Hells that giant turtle monster was would all disagree (and most of them did in fact disagree, some of them violently so), but there had to be a better option than leaving it to rot just because they turned their attention elsewhere.

Since we were more concerned about what was inside the citadel than outside, I tugged at the bond, calling Iskaryn in after us. This decision was something of a mixed bag.

We were in a skirmish with the rats. Iskaryn chose this moment to point out that rats are known to carry disease. That would have been fine, except she launched a Magdh-be-damned dissertation on the subject.

“Although, the problem with being bitten by dire rats is that by the time the symptoms of disease manifest, you may have been a carrier for days and spread the disease to others…”

In the meantime, my arrow went wide. “Shut up, Iskaryn! You’re distracting me!”

Excuse me!” she said indignantly. “I was just trying to help.”

“Lecture us after the battle!”

When “after” finally comes, she flits over to Trip, who was nursing a nasty bite. Somehow, with Iskaryn’s help, we determined that Trip had, in fact, been infected. How does she know these things? How can she even tell? I have no idea. All I do know is that it makes her insufferable.

Then, later, we’re dealing with the worg, and I felt like the others had the upper hand. So I chose to save my limited performance magic and shot at it with my bow instead.

My arrow went wide. Again.

“Next time, stick with your inspirational performance,” Iskaryn said. Which was all I needed.

All along, we’d been collecting odds and ends from the citadel, everything from actual coins to items in good enough condition to be sold. And it occurred to us that Alak was tagging along, and maybe he should get a cut of it because he’s been doing some of the heavy lifting. So we asked him about it, and we got more of his story. He’s not really interested in the money: he’s here, in part, because his family was stationed here long ago, and he was looking for things that may have belonged to them.

Liberte searched the room where we encountered the worg, and turned up exactly that: a book on the gripping topic of Order of the Nail protocols as they relate to both Chelish and Isgeri laws, and inside it is a hand-written dedication signed by the Hellknight “T. Stagram”. We asked Alak about it, and he got this funny look and said it was written by his father.

So we gave it to him. Or rather, no one objected to him taking it. He seemed genuinely touched. “I don’t have many things to remember him by. This will be something I’ll treasure. Thank you.”

And I get it, I guess? I don’t have anything to remember my father, and if I’m being honest with myself—and Iskaryn tends to push on that one—I have no small amount of guilt around that. My father was a good person; he just wasn’t a very wise one. That’s in contrast to my mother, who is a wise person, but not a very good one. If I found a book signed by my mother? I’d probably have it burned.

And I must have said that out loud because several heads turned to look at me. Then Trip said if she found a book signed by her mother, she’d do the same.

Though I imagine she has different reasons.

The most disturbing thing we found was distinctly not part of the burgeoning ecosystem. In what was obviously a cell room, there were a number of skeletal remains I can only assume were former prisoners. They rose up and attacked (at one time, that would have been disturbing to me, but I have seen far worse). They were too much for us, and we were forced to retreat and bar the door.

I just assumed that the Hellknights had left them to rot after abandoning the citadel, but now I’m thinking that was an unfair accusation. I’ve seen no reason to believe they would do such a thing, especially given their obsession with law and order no matter the cost. This place has been abandoned long enough that anyone could have moved in—see the Bumblebrashers as proof of that—and used it as a crude but functional jail. But that doesn’t make the thought of some hapless prisoners starving to death, long after their captors had left or died, any less pleasant.

What we didn’t find were any Cinderclaws. That was consistent with the Bumblebrashers’ story that the Cinderclaws had been trapped below when the stairs collapsed. The goblins knew a way down, and we did not, so we came to an agreement: they’d show us this hidden entrance, and we’d deal with the trespassers so the Bumlebrashers could have their home back.

Can we actually pull that off? Considering how we fared against the skeletons, I’m not so sure. But we managed to take on one of the grauladons, and if those are what they brought for protection, then maybe it isn’t so far-fetched.

I looked over at Alak. This wasn’t really his fight, and there was no money in it—not yet, anyway—but that book had whetted his appetite. Searching for more heirlooms meant going down below, and that meant coming with us. He was willing, and so our informal alliance continued.

As for the money, that problem solved itself not long after. One of the town guard found us as we were making preparations, and delivered a note from the Breachill town council. They were just as nervous about having some unknown group occupying the citadel, especially one as violent as they appear to be, and were offering us an additional bounty to solve it. Permanently. It would give me a solid six months.

But Alak teased us with something far more valuable. “There is a story that when The Order left this place, they hid the deed to the Citadel somewhere inside, and anyone brave enough and strong enough to find it would be rewarded with legal ownership of the place.”

I was stunned. It would mean having a home. Something I have not had for nearly a year. I hung back to talk to Iskaryn before we dropped down into the passageway.

“Alak thinks the deed to the citadel might be down there somewhere. Left for whoever finds it.” I hesitated because I wasn’t sure how to put my thoughts into words. “If that’s true…it could mean having a place. Not something I made up, or slipped into for a while. Something that stays.”

She fluttered around before settling on my shoulder. She sat there in silence for a moment before speaking.

“I wasn’t with you then, but I know how you felt when Davio recognized you. When he realized who you really were. You were a mess for days, you know. In case you need reminding.

“So where are you now? Are you done running?” She held out a wing in a very human gesture. “Is this far enough away from whatever you’re running from?”

It was a good point. And for the first time, I thought I had an answer. “I was running from myself that whole time. I think it’s time I started being me. No matter how uncomfortable that is.”

“But how much are you committing to a new start here? Are you making a new official home for Aemi ‘Salinus’ here on Hellknight Hill, or…under an older name?”

“It’s just a name, Iskaryn. Sura is gone. I don’t want it anymore. Mom poisoned it for me.”

She didn’t look convinced, but for once, she let it drop.

“As a castle,” she said, changing the subject, “it’s not bad, or could be good with some work. Keep in mind, though, that having a Magdh-be-damned castle dropped in your lap isn’t exactly a dream come true. Especially if you intend to spend your life hiding from the world. 

“But if, perhaps, you’re over that phase, at least a little…Well. You’re bound to start attracting attention. Perhaps acquire some fame. People talk, you know. What will you do when word of where you are gets out, farther and farther abroad? Are you ready to grow up? And face that?”

“No one is looking for me, Iskaryn. That’s the problem. I’ve been hiding from ghosts. But, if someone from that time does find me? I’ll deal with it.”

“You need to tell your new friends.”

“I know.”

She flew up to a branch of the tree above and said, “The woods are full of tasty treats. I could get used to it here.”