Tag Archives: Tarsius

Tarsius’ Journal, 11-12 Rova

11 Rova
Way station (??) in Huntersgate
9:30am

Although the passage still held the acrid smell from both the burnt people and the fire itself, it did not appear again. We quickly made our way to the other end of the dim passage and exited to …

… bright daylight and as our vision adjusted, we could now see a couple of dozen arrows aimed at us from a semicircle of elven archers.  Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

Slowly, each of us held our hands up, and Aemi quickly said (in elven, I was told later) “we mean you no harm – we are seeking the Cinderclaws.”

Their gaze didn’t waver, but neither did they loose their arrows.  (Aemi continues to be a surprise.  Who knew she could speak elven?  Note to self … take elven language lessons.)

At first, badmouthing the Cinderclaws seemed to have no effect.  But as the conversation continued, it didn’t take long to realize that we at least shared a distaste for the Cinderclaws. I noticed that while their leader Jahsi seemed a smidge more at ease, not a single archer’s aim wavered.  In fact, it wasn’t until after we’d given our names and talked a while longer that with a glance from Jahsi, the archers relaxed.  A little.

Apparently this is their job.  Jahsi said it has been the duty of the Leopard Clan for many generations to guard the temple against anything passing either way.  During his and the current tribe’s lifetimes, nothing had. Until now.  And thus the archers. and the vigilance, and the suspicion.  I’m surprised we aren’t dead already.

About this time, Qantrip complained that these people should feed us, which seemed woefully inappropriate to me.  It’s not how I was raised.  You don’t just invite yourself to someone’s table.  And yet they seemed amused rather than offended.  What a strange group.  Jahsi explained that others in the village would probably like to meet us, and that we would be their guests tonight.  His daughter, he mentioned in particular, is a linguist and would not only be better able to answer some of our questions but also better able to simply speak our language.  With that, he formally invited us to join them for an evening meal with the clan.

But the feast would not be until evening, and the village was ten miles distant. There’d be a bit of a hike, but once there, we were encouraged to mingle with others in the village and feel free to ask questions.

11 Rova
Akrivel
1:00pm

The jungle is indeed hot, and humid.  The breastplate does not let much air through.  Ordinarily you do not want loose fitting armor, but right about now I would love if my armor had some ventilation.

I was startled when we came upon the Ekujae village.  It blends very smoothly into the trees and plants of the jungle, and it makes good use of the trees to raise many parts of it above the ground.  There are even gardens created in the trees .. yet I could have walked past it had I not been told it was near.

So we have the rest of the afternoon to mingle?  I am interested in seeing how their weaponsd compare to ours.  This question had me directed to some of the hunters, and talking with them led me to exchanging soe technical points with my peers.  I made an offhand comment about how his the weapon he was working on would fetch a good price in the market and was surprised to learn there was no market here.  Skills, yes, sales no.  Items were only made when there was a need for it, at which point it would be given to the person who needed it.  Everything was made-to-order.  No profit, no loss, no haggling.

Akosa found me and invited me to join on the hunt for tonight’s feast. Akosa’s apparently one of the chief hunters, and I could tell that he had the same enthusiasm  to have me along for the hunt as he might had he might have had for a thorn in his sandal.  In other words, I sensed he’d been told to invite me.

But the hunt went well.  We had one wild boar escape, but still plenty of meat for all.  One hunter suffered a mild injury and I used a fervor to heal him.  That raised some eyebrows but raised no questions.

Later I went to show Akosa a blunt arrow, not being sure if he’d ever seem one. Hoo boy, yes he’d seen one.  Turns out part of his story was having once been captured by humans, shackled, tortured and forced to work in the gold mines at Whitebridge Station.  The elves were also used as target practice for blunt arrows.  Oops.  I apologized on behalf of all humans past, present, and future, but, gosh, how was I to know?

An hour or so before the meal (and it was smelling good!) the Twin Leopards – the twin women who led the clan –  asked us to participate in a demonstration of skills and answer a few questions about ourselves and our families.  There followed some awkward revelations about ourselves that in some cases we hadn’t even shared with each
other yet.  But in the end, the demonstrations and the stories apparently passed muster, and we were formally declared friends of the Leopard Clan.

We were given one more small test as the meal ended and entertainment began.  Jahsi’s daughter Nketiah, took us into her confidence and asked if we might help her father realize he was a match for Akosa.  They had known each other for many years, but she wanted to end the stalemate.  Aemi was able to set the mood with her music, and by switching partners in mid dance, we were able to get them to dance together.  Mission accomplished.

12 Rova
Akrive1
morning

I think the biggest surprise of all was that during the activities yesterday and before our leaving today.  we were given small gifts to aid us in our efforts to root out the Cinderclaws.  We are now the owners of a +1 shock bow, a +1 shield with spell immunity,  a dragon’s eye charm with special powers, and a +1 keen cold iron dagger.  They also provided us with some “jungle supplies” like tents, mosquito netting, and waterskins, along with some healing and antiplague potions, special arrows, and magic boots.

I am both thrilled and apprehensive, but I take comfort in knowing I’m unquestionably in the right place at the right time.

Tarsius’ Journal, 7 Arodus-11 Rova

7 Arodus
Breachill
6:00am

We rose to a spectacular sunrise. Or at least it seemed so; I’ve never owned a castle before so I imagine every day will be a little brighter than before.  Er, castle, citadel, whatever.  That big stone house at the end of the road.  Hey Grandpa, my new address is:

Tarsius Falco
Only Castle Nearby
Breachill

Well, 1/7th of a castle but still.  Several of the others in the group are still going on about the stained legacy of the Hellknights and want to completely rename it.  I don’t care much I guess, but renaming a castle seems like a big deal.  I imagine we’ll take some time to discuss some names. Almost like naming a baby!  It’ll probably take weeks to hammer out a proper name.

7 Arodus
Breachill
6:40am

Maybe not weeks.  I guess it was important to them.  We are called the Seven Card Consortium and for now we own the Seven Card Consortium Citadel.   Sounds so, I don’t know, so corporate.  Since Gath will be doing arrows and myself magical armor, maybe call it the Gathtar Citadel, home of Gathtar Enterprises and a wholly owned property of the Seven Card Consortium?  I don’t know, I guess I’m not that invested in names.  I’m lucky to have memorized six new ones in less than a month :)

7 Arodus
Breachill
5:00pm

Being the co-owner of a castle is expensive!  I had no idea.  How much upkeep can something made out of stone need?  Stone lasts for hundreds if not thousands of years just fine, with nary more than an occasional dusting and cobwebbing, right?  Sigh.

We’re apparently talking dozens of gold pieces to hire skilled and unskilled people to clean things up and completely replace or refurbish other things.  And that’s even with we ourselves doing a lot of the unskilled cleaning.  Aemi’s taking on the role of project manager and although she complains bitterly that she’s out of her element, she also wouldn’t let even Warbal take over.

I will say, those Bumblebrashers did jump right in and help out.  And Warbal agreed to be the equivalent of our seneschal for 2.5gp/day, but that is gold pieces. To her credit, that’s about half the going rate, but we’re also paying for most of the labor and all the materials for the renovation.

I wonder if the town will try to tax us?

17 Arodus
Breachill

Well, we are ready to welcome the cleaning and repair crews in force, which means we need to deal with the wandering undead.  Can’t have them killing, possessing, or even scaring the help, you know.  I did read up on undead as part of my studies, but if the last two months have taught me anything, it’s that there’s a big difference between reading about something, and actually doing it.

I even went and had a conversation with Voz, which I at least could say was more unpleasant for her than for me.  I just kept asking innocent bright eyed questions (“Since you disturbed the undead, do you know how to make them go away?  Any help will probably count in your favor at the trial.”)  I got the impression she probably did know what to do but she wasn’t doing nothing out of the goodness (?) of her heart.

She never discovered, I think, that we were part of the crew that inventoried her shop.  We found some interesting accounting entries which suggest we have more digging to do regarding who was backing her.  Because it does appear this all was not just idle curiosity and research on her part.

My review of the topic suggested there probably was an object or a sigil somewhere that was still active.  And sure enough, after affixing my hall pass to my armor, I was able to find a glowing sigil on the wall.  But I couldn’t figure out how to deactivate it.  Gath had the idea of treating it like a trap (which, really, it was) and he and Liberté were able to deactivate it.  The skeletons and most thankfully the wights fell to the ground. We’ll respectfully rebury them somewhere else outside the basement.  Problem solved.

Well, sort of.  We still had flying Hellknight helms in the ossuary.  We thought we might just catch them in bags and take them away.  Hah.  First one we tried that on dodged and then all of them were hostile.  They were surprisingly difficult to put down, but eventually we did.

9 Rova
Breachill
6:00am

The days are again brighter and sunnier.  Consortium Castle is cleaned up and repaired. All of the entrances now have non-lethal wards to alert us of visitors from the outside … or the inside.  I won’t go into details since it seems to me like that sort of information should not be written down anywhere.

I think we can call this home now.  We’ve decided to create an eighth share of whatever loot we collect which will go to citadel upkeep (or expansion, in the long run.)  Owning a castle isn’t for the faint of heart.

But it is also time to bring the council in on more of what we have discovered so far.  Several people, most vehemently Qantrip, did not trust giving the whole council the full story.  There was a lively discussion before deciding to bring just the councillor Greta Gardania up to date.

It was well we did. Voz, before being transferred out of town, had sown some seeds of distrust by “revealing” some half truths to Greta. Our coming forward to reveal that information instead of being confronted with it helped put Greta at ease.

The castle repaired, our party fully healed, and the council now informed, we were all set to try to use the gate in our basement.  After a good night’s sleep.

10 Rova
Breachill
9:00am

Ok, that certainly could have gone better.

We were able to activate the Huntersgate gate, but upon passing through, we were confronted with a dark, uncomfortably warm tube of rock.  Renali had time to confirm that this was not here last time when a dragon appeared at the far end of the tube and unleashed a blast of fire upon us.  Most of us took some fire damage, and unfortunately the charau-ka with us died from it.

The rest of us retreated back to our citadel to heal and ponder, heal and ponder.

Upon reflection, Gath believed this might have been another magical trap like the sigil was in the tombs.  With sufficient time, he might be able to disarm it.  I can obtain some resist fire spells tomorrow to extend their time under fire (heh) if needed.

11 Rova
Breachill
9:00am

I cast resist fire on Aemi, Qantrip, and Gath, and they gated into the tube again.  A minute later, they poked their slightly smoking heads out to announce it was successful.  We’re all going to the other side now.

Tarsius’ Journal, 6 Arodus

6 Arodus
continued

Defeating the last of the Cinderclaws was certainly an important milestone, but to return we needed to get past the probably-insane goblin king.  But that all became secondary when we saw what we’d also gained access to.

Alseta’s Ring lay just beyond the room the Cinderclaws had been occupying. Or at least, I assume it was Alseta’s Ring, because it seemed to embody six portal entrances that looked like ornate, non-functioning gates arranged in a circle.  But it didn’t appear to have been built there so much as it apparently appeared there. Before us, the rock seemed melted rather than carved, and some of the ornate decorations of the Ring were almost embedded in the surrounding rock rather than artfully transitioned.  The center of the ring had an impressive domed ceiling, and featured a (dry) fountain in the center, around which were six statues, each facing one of the archways.  At the north end of the room stood a pair of double doors that looked sturdy.

The damaged archway we came through had a name damaged by whatever forces brought it here, but it appeared it could be “Lotusgate”, which would mesh nicely with legends of these gates.  It appears the common situation was that each of these “stations” would connect with multiple gates, creating interlocking waypoints one could use to reach a number of different locations. I wonder if there is a “map” here of the various destinations and/or stations that were available when it was all working.

In speaking earlier with Renali, it appeared she too came here when the Cinderclaws did, just not with them.  They’d been using “Huntersgate”.  I was reminded  that quite recently the gate from Huntersgate to here had been functioning.  How much of the system was still functioning?  The danger this artifact represented suddenly became palpable.  I thought of Calmont and Voz and shuddered to think but for a couple of largely random events, they could have gotten here first.

Of course we still had no means to operate the gate or understood what that even meant.  Were there five destinations available to us?  Or was only the way to Huntersgate operational?

I noticed both Aemi and Liberté taking mental notes of the entire area.  They each seemed fascinated for completely different reasons.  Aemi spoke briefly with Renali about what language is spoken in her land. I wasn’t listening closelym but Renali appeared to give a long answer that ended with “Mwangi common,” whatever that may be.  If Aemi or Liberté knows it or learns it, perhaps I can then learn it from them.

We spent a few minutes looking over this room before the ever-curious Gath moved towards the double doors.  On a hunch, Aemi called out to take the holy symbol of Alseta with him, so he grabbed that and carefully approached the doors, ready to search for traps.

Unexpectedly, a fully armored elven guard emerged from the very door itself, solidified, and upon seeing the holy symbol in Gath’s hand, allowed him access.  Good call Aemi.

Inside was a small room that appeared to have once held valuable papers or records, but they apparently had been moved rather than plundered.  There only remained a spattering of loose papers and … and one small, rather neat pile.

It was the deed to the citadel, with paperwork releasing it to the finders of said paperwork.

Both Aemi and Liberté inspected it and pronounced it authentic, although I’m not sure what expertise Aemi has to make such an announcement.  But it was exciting nonetheless.  This is why I was here! My card was The Keep!  Again, right place right time! Hell, right people!  I’m part owner of a castle with people I only met about a week ago.  Or will be part owner.  Nobody at home will believe this.

And then the realization that nobody at home can know about it, at least the gate part.

And then the sobering thought that “our castle” has a recently and maybe still operating artifact that can bring people and creatures with bad intentions from hundreds if not thousands of miles away.  That “our castle” may be the biggest danger Breachill has faced since the Goblinblood Wars.  That there’s so much we still don’t know but now we insist we be responsible for by virtue of claiming ownership.

Suddenly my shoulders felt very tired.  With the gentle warmth of joy comes the icy cold mantle of responsibility.  Thanks Nethys.  I should have seen this coming.  But I don’t get the sense that balance has been fully reestablished.  There’s more to do yet.  And yet, if Nethys has been giving us “the small stuff”, I’m not looking forward to the big stuff.

We gathered up the deed paperwork and considered how to get past the barghest.  Every idea returned to killing him.  I don’t think anybody, even our own goblin Qantrip had qualms about killing him.  The hesitancy was we weren’t sure we could.  I think we finally convinced ourselves he would bleed like any other foe, and if he bled enough he’d die.  We decided how to buff ourselves, and set up a plan to attack him from two directions.

We entered the room, and there was the barghest, floating 20 feet above us, preaching to his makebelieve cohorts.  We couldn’t even reach him, let alone make him bleed.  He sensed our motives and immediately cast blink to make himself difficult to hit.  Floating above the ground, the barghest was a target for the archers (and they hit him repeatedly!) but our big-damage melee fighters such as myself were left with no target.  Liberté made himself big with an extract so that even standing flat on the ground he could now reach him.  When she asked, he also made Kyira big.

The barghest went invisible but Liberté’s sword found meat anyway.  Then Trip called out from the treasure room, “Uh, he’s in here!”  I entered and in this small place it was easier to hit an invisible creature.  I moved to one side to make sure my companions could get in, but unfortunately, now in their large forms, they couldn’t come through the doorway!

It was me and the archers against the barghest, and the barghest only had one available target: me.  I won’t lie; I came close to meeting Nethys in person with all the biting and clawing going on.  I never intended to go up against it alone!

But in a race to the death, he won.  We gathered up our people, his treasures, our new deed, and our new friend Renali and headed back to Guardian Way six miles underground first and then about the same distance overland.

We went to our individual sleeping arrangements and slept very well.

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.

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.

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.

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 darkness, dark vision, cure 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.

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.

Tarsius, Male Human Warpriest of Nethys

Since he could remember, Tarsius just seemed to find himself in the right place at the right time.  There was plenty of activity in the old capital of Logas, so maybe it was not all that strange to have odd little things happen.

Odd, at least at first. Oh, it was pretty small stuff, like happening to be right next to his father when he found a coin on the ground.  His father said, with a smile, “you take it, son.”  It was being chosen to represent his school at the regionals over his chief rival, Axios.  But it was hard not to notice that, as he got older, his luck seemed to grow too.

It was having an old branch fall off a tree in a strong wind, but being able to push his buddy out of the way before he got clobbered in the noggin.

It was finding the leak in the barrel when he offered to help the barkeep unload a few casks of ale – it would have been emptied into the ground by the next day had he not noticed.

It was deciding on the spur of the moment to take a leisurely walk through the countryside and coming across someone who’d been thrown from his horse, unconscious and bleeding badly.  The rider could well have died if Tarsius had not found him when he did.

It was finding the tiny piles of sawdust that heralded a new termite colony out by the stable – a colony which, had it gone undiscovered, could have weakened the old structure to the point of collapse.

It was Fate, right?

Sometimes at the end of the week, when the work was done but the sun was still up, his grandfather would go to one particular trunk, carefully move some neatly folded clothes and pull out a tarnished old sword wrapped reverently in well-worn linens.  He would hand Tarsius a stout stick, and have mock sword fights with him.  Tarsius could always see the attack coming from the old man, and he would grin and deftly parry. His grandfather would always look surprised and laugh with him.  “You are getting good at this!” he would remark.

After maybe thirty minutes of this, his grandfather would grandly pronounce him “Champion of the Order of the Stick,” carefully rewrap the sword and put it away at the bottom of the chest, neatly stacking clean clothes over it again.  It was a ritual that Tarsius enjoyed. “Perhaps someday,” the old man would say, “we shall switch roles.”

Every attack, he saw coming.  It was Youth and Speed, right?

But although these moments of good fortune were sparse at first, they grew in frequency as he got older.  And it got him thinking: was it really Fate and Youth and Speed?  Perhaps it wasn’t any of those things – weren’t all of these events taken together a bit of a coincidence? Actually, a really big coincidence?

These questions finally caused him to seek out the wisdom of several local priests.  Several, because it turns out they all had different explanations.  One told him his experiences lined up perfectly with the writing of some prophet 400 years earlier, and that he should beware the three legged newt.  Another told him these events were clear signs that the mythical Runelords were returning. A third suggested he might be able to see its meaning more clearly if 5 gp were donated to his church.

In the end, he felt the most harmony with the cleric of Nethys.  The cleric he spoke with reminded him that without Tarsius’ intercession, these people would have been worse off. His intervention did not make anybody fabulously wealthy, but it did divert misfortune.  It kept things balanced.  Since no mortal could possess that kind of foresight naturally, it followed that it was a divine intervention.  Nethys was a god that strove constantly to correct unbalance in the world, but even gods have to prioritize.  While Nethys was dealing with monsoons and droughts, he used other mortals to handle “the small stuff.” Now that he was aware of this, the cleric said, Tarsius was at a decision point.  Did he want to continue to be Nethys’ tool? Or did he want to stop waiting for the world to come to him, and instead go meet the world?

Tarsius had not planned to be an instrument of the gods. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be, either.  (Who does?) And yet, if a god was selecting him in any way to manifest that god’s influence in the world … Tarsius shook his head.  That’s a big deal.

He gave it considerable thought.  Given all that had passed in his life, he concluded that Nethys, the god of Magic, was preparing to use him for something big. Nethys would make sure he was always in the right place at the right time, but once there he needed to be ready. He needed to both learn more of the church, and also more of how to defend himself against agents of discord and imbalance.

On Neth 21 4716, (the date of the balanced, half dark/half light moon of the month of Neth) Tarsius formally started his training to become a cleric of Nethys.

As part of his training, he learned that the task(s) Nethys has in mind for him would require him not just to be ready to channel divine energies but to also be adept in his use of weapons.  He learned how to properly handle many different weapons, but he found himself working most with  the longbow and a sword.  His teachers desperately wanted him to work with a quarterstaff, as that was Nethys’ favored weapon, but remembering the bouts with his grandfather, he couldn’t ignore his desire to distance himself from “the stick”. During his training, his teachers noticed he continued to have remarkable luck – once, for instance, an errant arrow from another student streaked by his ear and impaled itself in the tree next to him instead of giving him a new hole in his head.

Fate, they said.  Lucky, they murmured.  Still.  But by now, Tarsius knew differently. Nethys had something else in mind.

A mere two years later – a full year sooner than most – Tarsius was granted his vestments.  He was now a rather green (yet well-trained) warpriest of Nethys.  His parents were proud, but it was his grandfather who took this opportunity to lead him once again to the chest.  He pulled out the familiar sword but this time when he unwrapped the sword, it gleamed and shone.  “I polished it up a little,” his grandfather admitted.  “This was my father’s scimitar.  He was a warrior, as was I when I was younger.  Your father never showed an interest in learning how to use it, and I despaired that my legacy would not be passed on. But here you are, all trained and eager to provide balance to the world.  It seems appropriate to give it to you now.  It is a cold steel scimitar, masterfully made. It is particularly effective against demons and fey, which you seem far more likely to trip over now than I.  I think you will find it more useful than that stout stick they gave you.”

“Quarterstaff,” murmured Tarsius, and in a flash he realized his interest in learning to wield a sword was again, no coincidence. “You have had plenty of practice with a stout stick,” chuckled the old man, “but I think you’ll find this sword does better.” Tarsius nodded. “I am not a follower of Nethys, but I will still pray he watches over you.”

As he took up the sword, a small piece of paper fell from the linens and caught Tarsius’ sharp eye. “What’s that?” His grandfather leaned over and picked it up, scowling. “All the times I unwrapped this sword and I’ve never seen this before.  Hmmmm. It’s a harrow card.”

“What’s a harrow card?” asked Tarsius.

“It is said they can be used to tell one’s Fate,” he said. “There’s usually a whole deck of them, and using them properly is a skill in its own right. This one is The Keep, a symbol of strength.” He handed it to Tarsius. “I’ve seen more than one harrow deck, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a version with these stylings.”

Tarsius inspected it closely. “There’s some old writing on it. Says …” He squinted a bit. “Says ‘Breachill 30 Era’.”  He paused.  “30 Erastus?  That’s either a date long missed, or a date almost a year away.  What’s Breachill?”

“It’s a town at the far east of Isger, up in the mountains near the headwaters of the Conerica,” said his grandfather, scowling.  “I know it only from maps. It’s no small journey.  I myself have never been there. I doubt anyone in our family has been.”  He stared at the card. “There is no reason for that card to be in this place.  I’ve no idea how it came to be here.”

Tarsius looked at his grandfather. “Nethys,” he said simply.  “Nethys is making sure I am again in the right place at the right time.  I believe I need to make a journey.”

“That’s quite a journey to satisfy a hunch,” said his grandfather slowly.

“Not a ‘hunch’,” replied Tarsius. “It is a sign from Nethys to be in a certain place at a certain time.” He looked somber for a moment before adding, “I would be remiss in my new duties were I to ignore the call.”

Tarsius’ journal, Arodus 1

1 Arodus

Now duly appointed by the council, the group reconvened outside the council chambers.  Aemi sent her bird ahead to look over the keep, while we went to the bookstore where Calmont is (was?) employed, to see what we could learn there about our little arsonist.  The owner, Voz Lirayne, seemed a little reluctant to talk about her assistant and yet openly disagreeable at the same time.   While the others talked, I went around the shop quietly utilizing detect magic to see how many of these books were more than mundane. It turns out that there were a surprising number, but Voz noticed and took offense at my learning that.  I was quietly unsympathetic; after all, her assistant had clearly used magic and it was not out of line to see if that magic may have come from the store.  In fact, Aemi said as much out loud and suggested if he had an area of his own, we should learn what we can from looking over his space.

Really, while not outright hostile, Ms Lirayne was the most disagreeable citizen we had met.

Liberté suggested in a manner of politely requesting but with overtones of menace that it was not unreasonable for us to see Calmont’s space, and Ms Lirayne unexpectedly agreed.  But in his very small space, the halfling had left only a confused journal or notebook of sorts from which we could only discern he’d concluded he needed to end something and “find the ring”.

After the surprise inspection, Ms Lorayne returned to her frosty tones and suggested we could now move along.

Aemi’s bird had returned and chittered (or sang or spoke or whatever it does) that in addition to the expected dilapidated door at the entrance, there were 4 or 5 places where the walls of the keep had crumbled in disrepair and could also be used to gain entry.  It was suggested that the only people who entered through the front door were those who wanted to get hurt.  After all, that’s where there would normally be a doorman or even a guard who might object to our presence.  I have to admit, I never thought of it that way, but where we are suspecting something is amiss, that does seem like a sound observation.

So we approached an opening on the south wall and after moving a stone here and there, gained entry.

This breach opened into what appeared to be a training room, with dusty training dummies strewn about.  Some of them, we discovered, had a few silver coins in them (for luck).  We collected the luck, since we’d probably be needing it.

Gath found a secret door that led to a secret room that – oops – had a secret pressure plate that shot a secret spear at Gath, secretly making him bleed a bunch of secret blood. Aemi was able to cast cure light wounds to patch him up (surprising, since she’s not a cleric, hmm).  In that secret room we found a lockbox, a silver longsword, and a training manual for Hellknights (as well as a lot of other deteriorating things).  Nobody could open the lockbox, which makes it all the more attractive, of course.  Gath took the sword for now.

Returning to the training room, Gath listened at the western door and behind it, he seemed to hear the sounds of battle and/or talking.  We burst in to find a person dressed as a Hellknight fighting an imp.  We jumped in to help, and Kyira took some poison from its tail but we finished it off.  Then another appeared and the battle was on again.  Liberté called to Gath to use the silver sword, and it seemed to inflict much more damage.  Silver and imps.  Have to remember that.

Tarsius’s Journal, Erastus 24 – Aroden 1, 4719

24 Erastus

I’ve decided that as part of chronicling Nethys’ work here on earth, I should create a record of my adventures and deeds, going forward.

Having arrived in Breachill today, I intend to walk around the city and familiarize myself with some of the people and businesses.  First and foremost, I need to find a place to put up my feet.

The city looks to be about a quarter the size of Logas, so this shouldn’t be too challenging.

26 Erastus

This is a lot more charming town than Saringallow was.  Everyone has been pleasant and helpful.  True, humans make up about 80% of the residents so maybe I shouldn’t read too much into how easy it is to blend, but it is a pleasant change.

There are three pubs in town: the Pickled Ear, Cayden’s Keg. and the Wizard’s Grace.  The first is something of a dive, the second is a near-constant party, and the last is the most genteel of the three … although it is still a pub   Prices seem to match that order too, although even Wizard’s Grace is not outrageous for a person with both gold and silver in their purse.

There are several nice shops and businesses as well.  Considering what I passed through on the way here, I am happily surprised.  Even Rogar and Hemmer would feel welcome here I think.

I still haven’t nailed down exactly what I am to do here, but I’m sure Nethys will not leave me in the dark.

30 Erastus

Ah, the date on the harrow card.  The date when I meet destiny.  The date when I fulfill Nethys’ wishes.

But instead of meeting destiny, today I learned where to meet destiny.  What actually happened today was I learned of the Call to Heroes, which technically happens the 1st of every month, at noon.  It is a call by the city council for “adventurers” to help solve city-level problems.  Given that it happens twelve times a year, I suspect something fairly recent will be brought up (or else previous “heroes” would have resolved it already.)

I’ve no idea what may come up.  Local residents I talked to were vague about past Calls so I’m not sure if this will involve simple manual labor or require specific skills.  I have to believe Nethys wouldn’t send a warpriest to do a wainwright’s job, though.  I did learn that it is traditional to meet at the Wizard’s Grace before the Call for informally meeting with council members and other candidate adventurers.  So, on 1 Arodus, I will start the day at Wizard’s Grace, and then proceed to council chambers to officially accept whatever task they have.

1 Arodus

Well!  No, they did not need a wainwright.  Nor were they looking for me all by my lonesome, either.  But let me explain.

When I got to the Wizard’s Grace, it was already looking busy. I thought several people might well have been “adventurers” but I say that only because their dress made them stand out.  I myself left my armor back in the room but still had my bow, quiver, and sword, so as to better look the part.  There could have been council members there, I don’t know.  I learned names beforehand, but there’s no way I could have tied them to faces.  In fact, one of my goals was to try to do a little of that in the pub before noon.

However, while walking past a patron, I heard him say to his companion, “I was sent, but I don’t know why.”  That definitely caught my ear, and I paused him and said, “Excuse me, but did I hear you say you were sent?”  He looked a little surprised.

“Well, see I -“

“I was sent too, by Nethys,” I interrupted him.  And then I noticed he was holding a card.  A harrow card.  I pulled mine out and held it up.  He stared a moment and then said, “There are others.”

He was not mistaken. We all sat at the same table, and learned little tidbits about each other in that cautious way two travellers might share light anecdotes about themselves during a trip.  But it was certainly a strange mix.  There was

  • Aemi, a human musician, armed with no more than an instrument
  • Gath, probably a half orc if I guess right, armed
  • Kyira, an elf or half elf, I can’t tell them apart, armed
  • Marcus, a human who apparently works at the local mill
  • Trip, a tobacco-spitting goblin, armed only with bad habits
  • Liberté, a, I guess, religious scholar?  Seems like a bookworm but also seemed to be dressed like a priest or cleric.  He was the one who said he didn’t know why he was  here, which sounds like a story waiting to be told more fully.

I’m not sure why Aemi, Trip, or Marcus were interested in the Call, as none of them appeared to be the sort of person who might consider themselves an “adventurer”.

We talked among ourselves, saying little.  Everybody seemed a little guarded because apparently none of them knew the others until this last week.  Certainly I didn’t. And more to the point, as I looked around the pub, there didn’t seem to be any other adventurers – or at least nobody else dressed like one.

The waitress was surprised when not everyone wanted stew – apparently that is also a tradition here.  So many unwritten rules. Most of the table declined, with the hope that any councillors overhearing that would not take offense.  Aemi, in particular, pled poverty and I’m not surprised.  I can’t imagine musicians earning a lot unless they are “discovered” by royalty, or at least by wealthy benefactors.  Actually I wonder if that’s why she was here – trying to earn some coin as an adventurer?

About 15 or 20 minutes before noon, people were beginning to leave to get to the council chambers on time.  We did likewise.  Most of the hallow-card-bearers sat up front, but a couple sat near the back.  The council had just introduced Warbal Bumblebrasher, liaison to the Bumblebrasher goblin clan that lived at the citadel.  She  had started to describe some apparent problem at the citadel (“The Keep“!) regarding unexpected red smoke and lack of communication when the guard burst in from the western door and announced there was fire outside the chambers.  And indeed, behind him through the doorway could be seen flames, and smoke was starting to enter the room.

We and the councillors quickly started to herd the startled citizens out the door they’d entered before they could panic.  But then there was a most impish cackle and a little burning man appeared in the flames. He wasn’t in danger — he was intentionally spreading the flames!

I knew now why I was here.  I quickly pulled an arrow from my quiver, brought it to the bow, and let fly a shot straight and true.

And missed. The wretched firebug was small and fast.

Around me, people were moving other people to the door.  Liberté yelled at the folks in Draconic, which I found odd – was that a common language here?  Smoke was beginning to fill the room, and Aemi was organizing a bucket brigade.  And the cursed little target said in a nasally Common, “Nyah, nyah, you missed me!”

The goblin named Trip said loudly, “Kill it now while it’s asleep,” and gestured in its direction. I looked again and sure enough, now it was lying on the ground as if asleep. Kyira and I both moved towards it, just as a second of these creatures appeared through the north door.  With the one asleep now, I swung and aimed at #2 instead. This time I had a solid hit, although it seemed to only slow it a little.  It might be time to switch to the sword. Hurriedly I dropped my bow and pulled out my sword, moving towards the first fiery bastard, which had apparently already ended its slumber.  I heard Marcus yelling some gibberish.

And then practically in mid cackle, they both faded from view.  I realized they must have been summoned, which saved the building from burning down but left us without the satisfaction of ending their existence personally.  And sure enough, the momentary silence was broken by one of the guards, who blurted out, “It was Calmont!  He made them appear!”

The bucket brigade was starting to prove effective, and without the nasty little animated embers walking around, no more spots were bursting into flame.  It took several minutes, and the thinning smoke still noticeably hung in the air, but finally the council reconvened in the chambers.  The aforenamed Calmont was apparently just an assistant at a local shop …  an odd choice of fire bug.  Did he really do this?

Warbal finished her nervous, stuttering plea for help, and we came to understand that the goblins that lived up the way, in the hideyholes of the old keep, had not been heard from for three weeks now.  There’d been red smoke seen, which Warbal took as a warning, or maybe a distress signal.  In either case, could maybe the council see their way to hire some adventurers to resolve or rescue, as they saw fit?

One of the council observed that while there were several individuals here this day, they seemed to represent one group. (I suppose I can understand why it might seem that way, given how we all leapt to action at roughly the same time!)  There were really two issues to resolve: one was safely retrieving Calmont, and the other was to check out the keep.  To that end, the council would provide

  • 50 silver pieces for the help provided just now
  • 10gp for resolving the problem at the keep
  • 10gp more for dragging Calmont’s sorry butt back here

The councilman almost apologetically added we would each be gifted a potion of giant spider venom, and another of anti-plague, because, well, you know, just in case. That admission certainly suggested they were understating the conditions at the keep.  Call for Victims maybe, eh?  But Nethys had brought me here, so there was really no declining the opportunity.  The group as a whole would also be given 4 healing potions. 

We huddled briefly and decided to retreat to our lodgings to get anything we needed for this mission (like, I definitely wanted my armor!) and return within a half hour.