Sarenith 23 (Mid-day)

I fell gravely ill when I was very young though of course I don’t remember any of it. My parents tell me they were traveling across the Carpendan Plains when I was four years old and the road took them along a marshland probably not unlike this one. No magic, no curses, no ancient horrors: just a simple mosquito bite paired with everyday misfortune.

We followed goblin tracks almost all the way in. Up above us, Nihali kept a watchful eye on the trail but the thick vegetation made seeing anything beyond its boundaries very difficult, and it felt like the swamp was slowly closing in around us the deeper into the marsh we pressed. If they somehow knew we were coming, we’d not likely see the ambush before it was sprung.

As it turned out I needn’t have worried. We emerged into a clearing of sorts that revealed the village in the distance, and from where we stood on the trail it looked eerily deserted. The front gate was completely broken down and there were no signs of activity. I asked Nihali to scout as safely as she could and she returned in short order with an ominous report.

“No guards, signs of life. Burned bodies, bones in the hole. Much fear.”

We approached the village cautiously and stepped into the compound. The gate had been broken down from the inside and then crushed in a stampede. Small footprints, dozens and dozens of them, told a story of a chaotic escape into the marsh. Whatever had happened here had terrified the goblins, sending most of the village fleeing in a mass panic.

A closer search of the grounds turned up a sinister explanation: skeletal footprints in the dirt, human-sized, leading into the village and back out again.

The charred bodies in the central pit were definitely goblins. A pig stye turned mass grave. It suggested there were still survivors here since someone had to be alive in order to burn and bury the dead, and we found the first of them in a small outbuilding. A half dozen goblins were cowering there in abject fear, and I suddenly felt uneasy about what we were here to do. Yes, they were goblins, and yes, we knew what this tribe had done, but that did not mean it was right to slaughter them in this manner.

But it did not take long for the situation to change: they became hostile and violent as soon as they saw what we were. The fight broke out in that first building and then spread to the courtyard when more goblins appeared at the window of one of the guardhouses. I tried to circle around using the platforms on the other side, but there was no direct path across and I ended up going deeper into the complex instead.

Eventually, I ran into Olmas, just as the rest of the party was preparing an assault into what they presumed was the goblin chieftain’s throne room. Etayne dropped down to the ground below and was able to count at least a half-dozen of them, in addition to the chieftain, through gaps in the raised floor. I was detecting faint traces of magic inside just as Qatana smashed the door in.

Nearly seven years ago on the beach in Sandpoint she flattened Jefy Theern, breaking several of his ribs when she slammed into him. I didn’t see it happen, or if I did the concussion erased my memory of it, but this is what it must have looked like. While goblin engineering, if you can call it that, is clumsy and primitive that door was still barred on the inside and sturdy enough to resist entry. Yet, under the force of her impact it shattered, sending a shower of splintered wood into the room.

Just seconds after the assault began an explosion in the doorway confirmed that the Licktoad tribe had, indeed, found a cache of fireworks. Several of us, including the chieftain’s own defenders, were enveloped in a starburst of searing, metallic powder that would no doubt have been quite beautiful from a few hundred feet away. While it was probably a waste of a spell—he immolated the last of his own with this trick—I answered with a color spray that left him blinded and stunned; Olmas and Anavaru delivered the killing blows.

A crudely hidden room turned up an astonishing surprise: a chest with a beautiful, red lacquer finish, decorated with etchings of cranes and frogs. I was stunned. It was obviously from Tian Xia, and almost certainly the Minkai Empire. It was a work of art.

Inside was something even more curious: a delicate Tian Xia fan which we unfolded. One side had an intricate painting of a gecko on backdrop of cherry blossoms. The other, unfortunately, had been painted over by the goblins but they had done so in order to draw a crude map of the marsh in wide, sloppy strokes. Bold X’s marked two locations along the shore and a third at the base of the cliffs just a short distance from the Witch’s Walk. (I don’t know if the goblins’ paint can be removed without damaging the original artwork, but it seems like something that should be attempted. When we are back in town, I will ask about this.) Presumably, one of these X’s is the shipwreck that is the source of the fireworks, but the others? Yet more mysteries.

Sarenith 23 (Evening)

We found the weatherworn shipwreck inland from the bay, far enough from the water that it was likely grounded there in a storm many years past. Curiously, the goblins had built a rickety fence around it complete with a broken gate. Ever the opportunists, they had apparently turned it into a home…which they subsequently destroyed by inadvertently setting it ablaze. From the outside, the two-mast Chelish vessel looked intact but the inside was completely gutted. Most likely their luck with the cache of skyrockets had finally run out and there had been an accident that led to a fire.

The dead goblins outside the ship, however, were anything but an accident. The badly decomposed bodies bore the telltale signs of battle injuries but gave no clues as to their assailants.

The name of the ship was still visible, and astonishingly it was written in Tien. I copied the pictographs as best I could since none of us could read them and even if I had the spell prepared it would have been a waste for just this purpose. Vudrani is a relatively young language on the scale by which these things are measured, and it evolved with heavy influence from Tien (I am told that in Tian Xia, Vudrani is even widely spoken as a foreign language). The two cultures have intermingled for centuries and I had an opportunity many years ago in Jalmeray to start learning Tien. Foolishly, I passed it up. As much as I have regretted that decision over the years, I am doing so even more, now.

Maybe if dad knew Tien things would have turned out differently. That may sound like I am shifting the responsibility for my decision to someone else, but the reality is that nearly all of my languages are a result of my parents’ influence. Dad, of course, spoke Vudrani at home as often as he did common: he very reasonably was not going to raise a daughter that wasn’t fluent in his native tongue. By nature of growing up in Varisia and having my mom as my mom I, of course, learned not just Varisian but Thassilonian as well—and knowing mom she probably started Thassilonian lessons while I was still in her womb. (Never mind that it’s basically a dead language known only by scholars and eccentrics.) And Elvish? A very useful language to have, of course, but that was both dad and mom, and motivated more by the family business than anything else. Only Draconic and Celestial didn’t originate with them, and if we’re being totally honest here the former wasn’t exactly a choice, either. Sure, you can learn magic without knowing Draconic, just as you can see with only one eye.

We are camped above the bluffs along the Witch’s Walk for the night. Down below, we came across the skeleton footprints and unsurprisingly they led to one of the locations marked on the goblins’ map, which turned out to be the entrance to a cave. What we were not expecting to see was a second shipwreck, visible just offshore in the distance and roughly corresponding to the sole remaining X. With the sun setting and the whereabouts of the skeletons unknown, however, the increasing prospects of a battle with the undead in a swamp in the dark seemed strangely unappealing.

Sarenith 24 (Morning)

Gods, I am an idiot. How many years did I spend around Ameiko? How could I not recognize the pictograph? How many times have I seen it? Dozens? A hundred? The Kaijitsu Star. There is an old adage about not noticing what is right in front of you, or what you don’t expect to find, and I guess this is what they mean. But still. I should have known.

I also feel like I have invaded her privacy, something that she has guarded carefully for as long as I have known her. I can’t say for certain that this letter was intended for her father, but the timing would be right. It’s dated 4687, just a couple of years before Ameiko was born. Sandpoint was founded in the 4660’s by the Mercantile League, an alliance of four families that included the Kaijitsus. Who else could it have been written to?

Ameiko did not talk much about her family, but I saw and heard enough of her father to know that he was a bitter, angry, and resentful man. Perhaps this letter explains some of that. Ultimately, I believe that we are responsible for our own decisions and choices in life, but we are influenced by how we are raised and how we are treated. How we respond to these trials is a test of our character, and perhaps this was one too many indignities for his. Did her father feel abandoned by his father? Did those feelings ferment over time into anger and rage, eventually driving his family away from him? What would have been different had this letter been received?

I need to see Ameiko. I need to be the one who shows her the letter, and the one who apologizes for this intrusion into her past. I’m sorry. We didn’t know.

And then there are the treasures we have found. Technically, they belong to the Kajitsu family which means that they belong to Ameiko. She will need to be told about these as well.

And what of this mystery? The caves below were filled with skeletons dressed in Tian Xia style armor. The second chest, made from cherry wood and jade, was clearly from one of the ships, and among its contents were more sky rockets and depressions where others had been removed.

It was enough to start forming a story of what had happened: the goblins found the chests which contained the fireworks and taken them, but someone, somewhere, created skeletons from the dead off of one or both ships. One of those, the one guarding the chest, had somehow retained its will and memories, and it must have been able to control the others. They raided the goblin village and took the chest back and brought it here.

But who created the skeletons? And what is the other shipwreck and how is it connected (if it’s connected at all)?

The caves were a harrowing experience. In the main cavern, the skeletons converged on us from all directions and many of the others had pushed too far in to be able to safely retreat. I thought we were going to lose Olmas but Ivan was there to provide some much-needed healing. Qatana, however, was quickly surrounded and there was no one close enough to help her in time. I don’t know how she did it, but miraculously she managed a healing spell just as the group of three skeletons descended on her and it saved her life.

This was the first time I have ever used those little acid darts in anger. I saw the effect it had on the skeletons. Dad, you can officially stop worrying now.