== Moonday, Desnus 19, 4708; Fort Rannick; morning ==

Our gear and loot have been packed and loaded onto the horses (plus a floating disk for the massive giant armor), and we have broken our fast with the Hook Mountain Rangers. Although at the outset Jakardros stated he wanted to retire, he seems to have settled in as the de facto captain of this new troop of rangers.

We talked with him late into the evening in Lamatar’s former quarters, which Jakardros now uses as his own, recounting our adventure in the mountains, and our encounter with the ogres and Barl Breakbones. We warned him that although we had thwarted the immediate threat of an invasion of giant and ogre forces, something large and sinister was brewing, and the rangers needed to maintain constant vigilance. We recommended that the ranks of the Hook Mountain force be increased in order to effectively counter any such threat in this region.

Now that the ogres in the nearby woodlands and fields had been slain or driven off, I suggested that farmers and settlers should be encouraged to reclaim the land. There should be plenty of people from the ruins of Turtleback Ferry who would prefer a life on firm, dry land rather than down in the fens and swamps along the river, and he should also reach out to neighboring towns and villages with the offer of free land. Increased patrols through the new farmlands would be required to keep the new settlers safe and secure, but an increase in the area’s population would provide Fort Rannick with a base from which it could recruit more rangers, and with the basic provisions it takes to maintain a large garrison.

The horses are stamping and steaming in the morning light, and the sun has driven off the mists that clung along the stream we will follow down to the Skull River, and then we will ride on through the Sanos Forest, and all the long leagues back to Magnimar.

By my count we have been gone from that great city exactly three months from today, and I wonder what we shall find upon our return.

== Wealday, Desnus 21, 4708; the Sanos Forest; evening ==

The weather has been fair, with Spring making her fecund presence felt with each day more pleasant than the one before. In the shadows of the wood ferns unfurl their fiddle-heads, fresh bright greens blush at the tips of the trees, and flowers boldly push up and reach for the sun in glades dotted with a riot of yellows, whites, purples and reds.

It rained lightly the day before, but the sun is once again out this morning, and the path remains dry with a soft and springy clutter from the trees and undergrowth providing easy footing for our horses.

Tomorrow morning we shall leave the woods and reach Nybor before mid day. There we plan to rest for half a day in the comfort of an inn (we have had no fire while in the Sanos, and thus no hot food since leaving Rannick) and then leave for Sandpoint on the following morning.

== Oathday, Desnus 22, 4708; Nybor; evening ==

On the way out from Magnimar we arrived in Nybor late at night, and left before light the following morning, anxious to be on our way. I had noted then that the town must be quite picturesque, and lamented not seeing it by the light of day.

I was not disappointed. Nybor is one of the most charming villages I have ever seen, and if I were looking for a pastoral retirement, this is where I would choose to settle down.

Nybor is nestled on the southwestern shores of Ember Lake. The magnificent Malgorian Mountains rise up from the far side of the lake and their snow capped peaks are reflected in the deep blue waters. The Sanos abuts the village on the far side of the Ember River, across which a small ferry runs people and goods. To the west the peaceful, undulating land is carpeted with farms and hamlets.

The town itself is quite prosperous, serving as the agricultural hub of the region, as a mill town for the trees harvested in the Churlwood to the far north, and as the main port for the small fishing fleet that plies the waters of the lake.

And the citizenry of Nybor are at least as varied as its industries! I have never before seen such a wide variety of races all living and intermingling together in such harmony. Certainly one can find equal diversity in the large cities such as Magnimar or Korvosa, but there the populations of different peoples are mostly segregated, with isolated ethnic neighborhoods or ghettos. In Nybor there is but one neighborhood, and all are welcome.

We were truly fortunate and arrived on the day of their spring festival! Rooms were short, and we had to bundle together in a single, expensive, suite that we rented from a local guild hall (the inn being completely full), but it was a small price to pay to see the town and its people shine at their finest.

That afternoon the local temple had a ceremony dedicated to Desna, which I am sure Kane attended, but I spent most of the afternoon wandering the streets talking with the happy folks I met.

I was sitting on the dock, drinking a fine local ale obtained from a nearby pub and looking northward out over Ember Lake, as the sun sank and set the far way mountains ablaze with a rosy glow. I then realized with a start that the infamous Viperwall was at the foot of those peaks, and my thoughts strayed to the map of that fortress which I had found at Fort Rannick.

Some day…

== Fireday, Desnus 23, 4708; Sandpoint; evening ==

We arrived in Sandpoint after dark, and have fours rooms for the evening at the Rusty Dragon (my companions each have a long history in Sandpoint, and know the innkeeper well). We are weary after long days of travel, and will leave early in the morning, following the Lost Coast Road to Magnimar.

We have been mostly quiet on the road, but we discussed our short term plans for when we arrive in Magnimar. Of course training is high on the list of priorities, and we have a large collection of valuables to sell. Many of us plan to use our gains to upgrade our equipment, and Sabin has graciously offered to enchant items for us at cost.

The past day went by swiftly as we passed through the verdant farm lands of the southwest corner of Varisia. My people come from the cold lands of the Storval Plateau, and while there are farming communities, the land yields her bounty grudgingly, and the crops are limited to a handful of hardy plants.

My family were traders, and we traveled across the plateau on our way to and from the rich towns and cities to the south. I remember well the hurried trips across the barren Cinderlands — giving the shattered city of Urglin as wide a berth as possible — as we rode towards Kaer Maga and the descent down the Wall to the fertile lowlands between the Mindspin and Fenwall Mountains.

It was only recently that we sought to broaden our trade routes and headed west to Magnimar, which is what brought me to join with my companions.

== Wealday, Sarenith 4, 4708; Magnimar; evening ==

We have been in Magnimar for more than a week, and are all busy training. The first few days were especially busy as we also dealt with necessary mundane tasks, such as putting the town-home where we are living in order (a few gold coins bought the services of an industrious cleaning crew), selling our loot and purchasing equipment.

I obtained a fine light crossbow to replace the one I lost with my ill fated run-in with Xanesha, and a mithral chain shirt to replace the burdensome heavy steel chain I was wearing. Sabin then enchanted these two items, and while it cost me virtually all the coin I have, the investment should prove worth it.

The city seems much the same as we left it, although there are disturbing rumors of ogre and giant infractions in the rural outlying areas.

We shall look into these unpleasant tidings as time permits, but for now our training continues.

== Sunday, Sarenith 8, 4708; Magnimar; evening ==

During the last week of my training I began to research the mysterious words of Barl Breakbones after the battle of Hook Mountain. Often Sabin or the others would join me in these efforts, lending their knowledge and support.

I picked up the giant language during my training, and from that learned that Jorgenfist was the giants’ afterlife, or the entrance to the afterlife.

But who Mokmurian was remained a mystery, although the name sounded like it could be giantish.

I felt it was time to speak with both Barl and Lucretia to see if there was more we could glean from our dead adversaries.

The conversation with Lucretia went thusly:

Who is Mokmurian?

“My lord.”

What were you and Xanesha doing for Mokmurian?

“Gathering the souls of the greedy. They were easy to mark and easy to harvest.”

Why were you and Xanesha serving Mokmurian?

“The Lamia were compelled to obey Mokmurian and the ancient dark ones he serves.”

Where is Xanesha?

“Xanesha is in Magnimar.”

Of course the answer to the last question was only as good as what Lucretia thought when we killed her, and was no doubt out of date now. But the other information was useful, and quite disturbing. And still we were left seemingly with more questions.

And so I turned to Barl and questioned him:

Who is Mokmurian?

“Mokmurian is the great stone giant necromancer. He taught me much.”

Where is Mokmurian?

“Jorgenfist.”

What is he trying to accomplish?

“He seeks to reclaim the birthright of our people.”

Does your birthright include the Churlwood and lands to the south?

“Yes.”

Well, obviously none of this bode well for the western lands of Varisia, and so we took our concerns, along with what scant information we had, to the city council of Magnimar, but mostly spoke with the head of the city guard.

Needless to say there was great concern, and they also supplemented the rumors we had already heard of giant incursions in the surrounding areas with more stories of the same.

We urged that action be taken to warn and enforce the major towns and villages to the north of Magnimar. They assured us that they would send out scouts of the Red Tabards to raise the alarm, but asked if we too could set out and help prepare each of the towns for what might prove to be a giant invasion.

What could we do but agree to help?

We gathered back at the town house and made preparations to start early the next morning. We would retrace our return journey to Magnimar, with stops in Sandpoint and Nybor, and then we would turn north and follow the western shore of Ember Lake to Galduria and Wolf’s Ear and possibly beyond, depending on what we found along the way.

Time was not on our side, and we planned to spend at most one or two days at each town to both warn them of the impending danger and help them to organize their defenses.

== Moonday, Sarenith 9, 4708; Sandpoint; evening ==

We are back in Sandpoint. This time we rode into town before the sun had set, and many of the townsfolk waved as we crossed over the southern bridge. My friends had made a name for themselves here the previous year by saving Sandpoint from an invading horde of goblins and some sort of Lamashtu cult. They were local heroes, and everyone was glad to see them — almost unduly so.

Back at the Rusty Dragon we spoke to the proprietress and discovered why everyone had been overjoyed at our return: there was an upcoming festival to celebrate the defeat of the Thistlestop goblins, almost a year ago, and the town folk assumed my friends were returning to participate in the festivities.

We briefly informed Amiko of our real purpose in returning, and arranged for a meeting with the mayor Devlin. On our way to the mayor’s office Avia noticed someone from an alleyway watching us suspiciously — she thought he might be one of the Scarnetti family’s hired thugs. I was informed about the unscrupulous nature of this family and their reputation for using arson and violence to ensure a monopoly on their businesses. Kane and Rigel immediately vanished into the back ways of the town and we knew we would hear back later from them if anyone was following us.

We spoke with mayor Devlin about our adventures to the east, and of what we found there, and what we had learned since. Sandpoint, we said, was in danger along with all the other settlements between Magnimar and the Churlwood.

She acknowledged that there were quite a few stories circulating through the town about giants and ogres being seen in the area, and she was worried that Sandpoint would not be able to defend itself against an invasion of giants.

Sadly we realized that she was right: these towns could not afford to keep standing armies, and the town guards were simply not trained or equipped to handle such a threat (Sandpoint’s guard were not even able to handle an influx of goblins!).

I proposed that she have a three prong plan for if and when the giants came to Sandpoint. First they needed to have as early a warning as possible, and I explained how the local cleric, Father Xanthus, could place glyphs of warding about the outskirts of town that would only be set off by giants or ogres. Second they needed to have enough of a force to repel the invaders long enough until the town’s population to escape into a safe place — in this case the network of tunnels beneath the city would serve well (and they should begin to stock these tunnels with provisions for such an evil day). And finally they needed to have swift mounted messengers who could race off to warn the adjacent towns — in this case Magnimar and Nybor.

Devlin looked puzzled at this last point, and asked, “Why would we want to do this?” I explained that it was important to give the surrounding communities as much notice as possible that the giants were invading, so they could be better prepared. She then asked, “And what good will that do Sandpoint?”

Amazing, how could someone as dense and stupid as Devlin be mayor of such a major settlement?

“Because,” I answered, holding in check my mounting irritation and frustration at her short sightedness, “it is the right thing to do. And, because each of the other towns will do the same for Sandpoint. It could be your bacon that is pulled from the fire because another town wasn’t so myopic in its thinking as you.”

Honestly, politicians!

She did agree to arrange for a meeting with us, sheriff Hemlock and Father Xanthus in the morning, when we would review the city’s defenses and what preparations they could make to stand against the giant menace.

We stopped by the temple next, and asked Father Xanthus to prepare a couple of Glyph of Warding spells for the morning, and then started back to our inn. On the way back I set a glyph on the far side of the northern bridge.

== Toilday, Sarenith 10, 4708; Sandpoint; evening ==

It was a quiet night in Sandpoint, and the first thing I did after morning prayers was to set another glyph of warding — this one at the far end of the southern bridge. We are about to meet with Hemlock and Xanthus, and anyone else the mayor had invited to discuss the defense of town.

We plan to spend the full day here, making sure the town officials recognize the magnitude of the threat, and helping them begin to take the needed precautions.

We will leave for Nybor first thing tomorrow morning.

== Oathday, Desnus 15, 4708; Ogre Stronghold; night ==

I find it amazing how time passes almost unnoticed when trapped beneath the earth with no sun, stars or moon or changes of light to mark the advance of the day. And so rather than it being in the afternoon when I penned my last entry, it was in fact well into the evening hours!

Glark had left and we were in the forge, with thick smoke rising up from the still red hot fires of the smithies. A quick look around revealed a large array of recently (poorly) crafted weapons and armor — mostly made for giants, but some ogre sized as well.

We took the entire collection and placed them in the forge fires, warping and partly melting each until it was a worthless mass of metal.

Leading off from the forge chamber were three tunnels heading west, southwest, and southeast. Listening carefully we could hear the dull thud of hammer against rock accentuated with the occasional sharp clank of metal on metal. These sounds drifted in from the west and southwest tunnels, while the southeast was utterly quiet.

We crept down the southwest passage with Sabin in the lead (the only one of us who can see in these pitch black caverns) and the rest of us strung out along a rope we used to keep together. The tunnel twisted about and branched off into narrow side passageways, before ending in a chamber slightly wider than the tunnel itself. Four ogres were working within, and cursing at one another, the rock, and anything else that flitted into their thick heads. They were mining, and looked overworked, underfed, and generally ill used.

We decided these workers posed no serious threat and made our way down the western tunnel. This too led to an area actively being mined by more ogres in varying states of decrepitude. Again, no real threat.

The southeast tunnel branched once, and both passageways dead ended not far in. We noted that while it might be a dead end, this passage was also quite defensible, and could serve in a pinch as a place to bivouac.

We left the forge area and returned to the main cavern junction. We decided to explore the narrow passageway to the west before stopping for the night. It twisted about as it led up an irregular flight of steps. Once again Sabin was in front, and he paused as the passage opened onto a large chamber filled with body parts (we did not need Sabin’s dark vision to smell the stench of rotting flesh from beyond).

Peering back at Sabin was a large face, pock marked with weeping pustules and glistening with slimy sebaceous sweat. Voices, in common, echoed out to us.

“I wonder if they are coming this way?”

“I hopes they have children!”

“Oh you, stop thinking about your stomach — we have enough trouble as it is in this place with so few allies.”

“Shh, someone comes. Get your pet!”

And with that, Sabin, Rigel and Nolin, who were at the front of our party, found themselves trapped in some sort of cage where they could neither move forward nor retreat back to the rest of the group.

One of them cackled, “Sisters, I have them as captive as fleas on a drowning rat!”

With the element of surprise lost, Kane brought forth an ever burning torch and Avia’s sword began to shine with an inner fire.

Between us and our held friends we could barely make out a grid of bars, each bar perhaps half an inch wide with a half inch gap between it and its neighbor. We did not so much see the cage bars as we noticed a general nothingness where the bars were.

I cast Dispel Magic, but the bars remained.

Nolin moved to the back of the cage and began to hack at the bars with his adamantine sword, while Avia did the same from our side of the wall. But this too had no effect on the trap.

Peering through the cage into the dimly lit room beyond I could barely see three large female creatures. One had a large corpulent face, another was fat and had a humpback, and the third was skeletally thin.

“Come here my pet, come and play!”

A wight lurched forward from behind the hags and lunged toward the cave. Rigel responded by shooting it with an arrow, and Sabin pelted it with a magic missile.

The hags began to chant, which we knew could only mean unpleasant things for us.

I tried using Stone Shape to clear away enough rock from the edge of the nearest cage wall for an exit, only to find the bars extended deep into the stone.

Nolin shouted some sort of curse at the things, and one pointed at him and jeered, “You are brave now, but how brave will you be as a rabbit?” Nolin looked slightly puzzled, and the hag shrugged her shoulders as if to say “Never mind.”

Trask made good use of his affinity with fire and sent a flaming sphere into the chamber to burn one of the creatures.

The wight had staggered up to the cage, and we could see it had once been a ranger. We suspected we now knew the fate of Lamatar, the late captain of the Black Arrows. It feebly tried to bat at those in the cage, but the cage itself prevented it from doing any damage.

Likewise another of the hags tried to attack the group, only to be denied.

Finally the pustule faced hag screamed, “Enough!”, and the bars vanished. She pushed the wight aside and struck out at Rigel.

A blanket of fogged then filled the staired passageway just as the wight jumped forward and attacked Sabin.

Kane and I sent waves of channeled energy into the fog, dropping the wight, and possibly damaging the old crones.

We all backed slowly out from the mist shrouded hall and waited for the creatures to press their attack. But they did not.

From the floor, where the wight had fallen, a raspy voice croaked out, “Help me!”

Avia detected two evil beings in the fog, and nobody moved forward to help the fallen, dead undead ranger.

Trask sent another flaming sphere into the mists, and from the yelp that came out he apparently ran into something with it.

From the gap in the fog left from the flaming sphere we saw that the ranger wight was standing again, with its arms reaching out towards us as it pleaded for us to rescue it.

One of the hags loomed out from the fog and appeared to attack the ranger, but missed (how convenient). As a reward I shot a bolt of cold at the crone while Sabin thwacked it with his axe.

Our foes appeared to be retreating back into the chamber.

Another flaming sphere appeared, and the ranger jumped before the hag, and holding up its hands, as if protecting her, called out, “Wait, stop! Let’s talk.” The ranger then transformed into one of the creatures.

Meanwhile Rigel had found the actual fallen body of the ranger and hauled it back into the room with us. She noticed it wore the ring described to us back at Fort Rannick as belonging to Lamatar.

Trask replied to the hag who had asked for a parley with a fireball.

Nolin called in asking what the hags were doing here.

They replied that they were working with the giant Barl Breakbones against their will. They were his slaves and forced to help him with magic.

Breakbones was skilled in necromancy, and had tortured Lamatar. They took away his pain and memory by making him a wight. They were kind creatures and simply misunderstood.

I would not have been surprised if they had added, “Oh, and by the way, do you have any extra children you can’t use?”

We really weren’t buying the part of their story that they were innocent unwilling captives. They seemed far too delighted in their evil deeds to be acting completely against their wills. Still, I though we might be able to learn something to our advantage from them.

The others thought differently, and really, who could blame them?

Nolin and Sabin charged in with weapons swinging as Trask moved his flaming sphere onto one of the creatures, which dropped.

Just then Derrel showed up–he had completed his training a few days early and rushed up to Fort Rannick and then followed after our easily seen trail (just follow the troll and ogre bodies) to rejoin us. Even though he was tired from his long and hurried journey, he too launched into the fight.

There was just one of the things left standing now, and it perished as I stung it with a bolt of ice.

Sabin said that these creatures were called “hags” (and here I was simply calling them that as an apt descriptive term), and that they were able to join together in a small group to increase their spell casting abilities, which explained the mutual chanting.

Their chamber was littered with body parts, but nothing else. Even a scan with Detect Magic revealed nothing.

It was late and we decided to risk being trapped in the southeast corridor off of the forge. Using a Shape Stone spell Kane narrowed the entry way into the side passage we chose for our camp so that an ogre could not squeeze through.

Remembering how easily ogres had been able to smell us out back at Fort Rannick, we put several body parts onto the forge fires to mask our own scent.

We dumped all the remaining bodies (ogre and hag) into the deep pit near the entrance, and then Trask used an enlarge spell on Sabin, who left a set of large tracks leading out of the stronghold into the snowy waste outside. He then crept back in at his usual size. The hope was that if anyone suspected an intruder, they would spot the huge tracks leading out.

As usual I have the first watch (with Derrel), and I am sitting next to the narrow crack, listening for any movement out in the main hold. The hammer blows from the miners stopped a short while ago, and it is eerily silent.

== Fireday, Desnus 16, 4708; Ogre Stronghold; morning ==

The night for most of us passed without event. But Nolin and Trask reported an interesting incident during their watch.

A loud voice bellowed out, in giant, “Where did everybody go?! You lot make me come all the way from my throne room to clean up your mess? Who is on guard? I’ll have their heads! I’ll kill them! You and you stand guard. What? I don’t care what your job is, you’ll stand guard!”

Because nothing else happened, Nolin and Trask wisely let the rest of us sleep.

Somehow we know that this morning we will face the giant Barl Breakbones.

We will leave Lamatar’s body here, but have cut a finger off just in case we need to flee quickly.

== Fireday, Desnus 16, 4708; Ogre Stronghold; late morning ==

Before heading off in search for Barl we checked out the tunnels and caverns we had cleared or searched yesterday, thinking it prudent to take out any remaining resistance now rather than have them at our backs when we found Barl.

But there was nobody within. Not even the ogres was saw working the mines. Two forlorn and weary looking ogres were out in the large cavern entrance. They did not look like much of a threat, and so we let them be and returned to the main junction.

From there a wide hallway led north, from which a pale, dim light penetrated the gloom. Cautiously moving forward we passed a wide stairway leading up to our left before the main hall curved sharply to the right. It was from around this corner that the light came.

Carefully peeking around the corner we saw a vast hall stretching away to the east, climbing slightly as it gently curved south. On either side of the floor was an elevated shelf upon which were perched a series of giant statues. Near the far end the floor reached the level of the shelves, and there the entire hall opened onto a huge chamber that was open to the sky. The far eastern wall was broken into cracks and fissures that glinted icy blue.

There, against the southern wall was Barl Breakbones, sitting on a large stone throne. A single giant guard stood by his side.

We pulled back and swiftly prepared for battle, but when we looked around the corner again we saw that we were expected. Barl had floated up some twenty feet off the ground, and the guard was walking towards us.

Even I knew enough about giants to recognize these as stone giants.

Our basic plan was to focus ranged attacks at Barl and then have the fighters take care of any close in threats. We stuck to that plan as we sprang out into the hall.

Trask detonated a fireball at Barl’s feet.

Derrel must have missed the part of our plan about the fighters staying together as a unit, and he ran down to attack the oncoming guard, and the guard pummeled him for his rashness.

Barl gestured towards Derrel as a large, translucent hand materialized and sped towards him, but it appeared to have minimal or no effect.

Nolin and Rigel shot arrows at the guard as Avia lept to Derrel’s aide.

Another fireball toasted Barl again as our fighters regrouped around Derrel and began to bash the crap out of the guard.

Kane ran up from behind and channeled energy to heal their wounds (Derrel was looking none too healthy at this point, with blood oozing out from various wounds and seeping out from several orifices).

More magic was hurled at Barl, who flew over to the main fight, and pointed a wand at Avia. A sickly black ray flashed out from the wand and struck Avia, who staggered with its touch.

Trask enlarged Nolin, who hacked at the guard, which nearly dropped from the onslaught. But Barl himself remained high enough above us that our fighters could not reach him — not even Nolin in his ogre sized form.

Something needed to be done about that, and so I cast Dispel Magic against Barl’s Fly spell, and the giant slowly descended into the meat grinder that awaited him below.

Rigel finished off the guard with a well placed arrow through its eye.

Barl looked over and snorted, “It figures. Stupid little maggots are more trouble than they are worth.” He gestured towards the body of his slain guard, and it opened its eyes (the one good one, anyway) and wailed in the cry of the recently risen undead (metaphorically risen, as it was still laying on the ground).

Barl then did what all despotic leaders do when actually forced to confront their opponents alone: he ran away.

Nolin and Sabin chased after him as I cast Restoration on Avia, and she followed.

Cornered, Barl began to plead, “Wait, wait, I can help you!”, but the thought was cut off by another strategically placed fireball, courtesy of Trask. Barl’s life was over.

Derrel neatly finished off the and still prone undead guard.

We searched the bodies and found a variety of useful items (most of these from Barl).

From the guard:

[540] Great club (masterwork)

From Barl:

[541] earth breaker hammer (masterwork)
[542] wand of enervation (11 charges)
[543] ring of minor cold resistance
[544] sihedron medallion (like all the others)
[545] black onyx gems (worth 545 gp)
[546] spell book

As we searched Barl a lizard popped out from his clothes and scampered off, but Sabin killed it with a volley of magic missiles.

We cut off Barl’s head (as is tradition) and I put it in my pack (Avia once again has Lucretia’s head): I thought Glark might make use of it and claim leadership of the ogre clan.

We carefully walked back to the large stairway we had passed just before the battle with Barl (and guard), which led up into a good sized cavern. A shallow pit was near the far end, and against the far wall was a statue of a woman with three jackal heads: an altar to Lamashtu!

It looked as if the place had not been used in a while, but none of us wanted to leave the blasphemous place for future inhabitants.

We destroyed the altar, pounding it to rubble, which we tossed into the pit, and using a stone shape spell pulled a layer of rock over that. Kane and I then carved the symbols for Desna and Pharasma into the wall.

We then gathered the body of Lamatar and headed out to giant cavern that served as the entrance to the ogre stronghold.

The two ogre guards had fled, and the ancient massive giant, preserved by the sihedron medallion around its neck, stood as the lone sentinel. We gazed once again in wonder at its magnificent bejeweled armor and the deadly glave still clasped in its hand, but nobody wanted to chance disturbing the thing for fear that some unknown magic might bring it back to life again.

I used a Sending spell to notify Glark that Barl Breakbones had been slain, and we would hand over his head as proof. Within an hour Glark returned with two fellow ogres in tow.

Glark was quite ecstatic over the giant’s downfall, and he planned to take leadership of the Kreeg Clan, as we hoped. We reminded him that he had help in the overthrow of the clan’s oppressors, and we expected him to keep the ogres from attacking settlements of other peoples.

He reluctantly agreed to this, and Trask made use of another glowing hand to remind him that he was bound to his word.

Glark then asked something quite unexpected. He asked if we had recovered the sihedron medallion from Barl. He wanted it.

We wanted to know why.

Glark gestured to the giant figure before us saying that the the symbol was worn by the great father of the Kreegs, and that the symbol belonged to them.

We briefly discussed among ourselves about possibly giving Glark the medallion in the hopes that it would cement his leadership, and thus remove the threat of an overtly hostile ogre clan from the region (at least for a while). We were debating this when Kane asked Glark who had worshipped at the altar of Lamashtu.

When he replied that the Kreegs worshipped Lamashtu our debate ended.

I explained to Glark that the sihedron was an ancient symbol of power, and that we had seen it in ancient ruins across the lands, Glark became agitated, and began raging about how the symbol was the property of the Kreegs alone, and no others could have possibly possessed it.

When I provided specifics about where we had seen the symbol before, and what it really meant, and that Lucretia herself wore such a medallion, Glark went berserk. He frothed and fumed and sputtered as he stomped about before us, unable to accept what he had heard.

He once again gestured to the figure of the giant as he climbed up the gigantic thing’s armor and grasped the huge sihedron medal that hung there. He was screaming with rage about how the symbol was their’s alone, as he waved it about. He then lost his balance and yanked on the medallion, snapping the thin silver chain that held it about the giant’s neck.

As Glark fell to the ground, eyes bulging with horror at the medallion in his hands, the ancient giant crumbled into dust — its armor and helmet clanging loudly as it hit the ground.

Glark slowly stood up, and then sobbed, “Kreegs is cursed!”, before running out onto the snowy mountainside. His two companions wasted no time in leaving the scene of the fall of the house of Kreeg.

We gathered up the armor, helmet and glave (all estimated to be worth a small fortune), and using a floating disk that Trask summoned, prepared for our long march back to Fort Rannick.

[547] ancient giant half plate armor and helmet (both jewel encrusted)
400 pounds, estimated value ~$5,000 gp
[548] ancient giant glave 40 pounds

== Fireday, Desnus 16, 4708; Foothills of the Iron Peaks; evening ==

The hike down from the mountains to the wooded foothills below was long and tedious, but passed without event.

Mostly.

I had been thinking about all that I had seen and experienced since arriving in Magnimar and facing Xanesha. Almost everything we have done, and apparently most of what my companions had done before that, seem to be related… somehow.

And despite having had several victories under our belts, we seem no closer to understanding how it all fit together.

For the recent events, it seemed obvious that the fall of the fort was orchestrated by Lucretia, but how or why did she get the help of the Breakbones? And I was certain that Lucretia and Xanesha were working together on some larger project, but what it was I hadn’t a clue. Perhaps the rune tattoos on the townsfolk at Turtleback Ferry were significant: by itself tattooing citizens of a backwater town made no sense. Something bigger (and no doubt more sinister) must be in play. And why were three hags hiding out at the ogre stronghold, when even the ogres didn’t like them?

I was reminded of old Barl’s head in my pack as I slipped on a rock and my heavy pack banged painfully against my back.

I have an idea on how we might get a few answers, but it will have to wait until morning.

== Starday, Desnus 17, 4708; Foothills of the Iron Peaks; morning ==

The next morning after prayers, when the group was finishing up their cold breakfast, I wandered off into the undergrowth for a short distance. There I sat down and pulled out the head of Barl Breakbones. After casting Tongues and Owl’s Wisdom I got down to the business at hand and cast Speak with Dead.

The pale, blood spattered head of the giant just lay there for some moments, before the cracked lips parted as if the giant were still gasping for breath. It breathed out the barest whisper of a sigh, but whether it was in frustration or acceptance I could not tell.

“Oh mighty one, what compelled you to attack the fort and plan war against the peoples of the surrounding lands?”

“Jorgenfist. We prepare for the coming tide.”

“I could see why someone would want someone as great and powerful as you working with them. Who asked you to carry out these actions?”

“Mokmurian.”

“I am surprised you tolerated the presence of one as vile and loathsome as Lucretia. What purpose did she serve here? Was she acting alone or were her degenerate sisters involved as well?”

“Lucretia. Xanesha. Breakbones. All by Mokmurian’s will.”

And with that last whispered statement, Breakbones’ swollen tongue slithered out from the giants mouth and hung there limp and disgusting, like some huge black slug had oozed its way onto the former gang leader’s chin, and his head lay once again as still as the dead.

Joregenfist? Mokmurian?

I cast Gentle Repose upon the pulpy mass before me, and lifting it by the hair I walked back into camp. As the others turned to look I held aloft Barl’s head and said, “We need more answers,” and then proceeded to tell them what I had just learned.

== Starday, Desnus 17, 4708; Fort Rannick; noon ==

We pause briefly in Fort Rannick before heading to the Shimmerglens to return the body of Lamatar to his former lover, the fairy queen Myrianna.

We have updated Jakardros on the state of the Kreeg stronghold, and of our encounter with Barl Breakbones. We also left the ancient giant gear in a secure room to be picked up later (it is a bit heavy to carry around with ease).

As soon as we grab a quick bite to eat we will mount up and head out. It will be nice to travel on horseback again — and I even think my trusty steed,
Butters, missed me.
== Sunday, Desnus 18, 4708; Shimmerglens; after noon ==

We arrived back at the Willow Wood and found it as dark, dying and depressing as our last visit (if not more so).

Myrianna appeared, still looking nearly undead, and thanked us for bringing Lamatar back to her. She then raised her hands and a bright, yet softly glowing light floated from them to the body of Lamatar, completely engulfing the body.

When the light faded, a halfling lay on the forest floor. As the halfling opened his eyes, Myrianna faded into a ghostly apparition that dissipated among the naked tree branches overhead.

Speaking of naked, the halfling stood nude before us and coughed a few times before saying that he was Lamatar, who had been reincarnated as a servant of the forest. He vowed to serve the woodlands in memory of Myrianna to help make up for all of his earlier failures.

He bid us a fond farewell (and we to him).

On the way out Rigel broke the somber mood by cheerfully exclaiming, “I’m glad I took off those swamp boots of Lamatar’s before coming here!”

We are making our way back to Fort Rannick (I have been perfecting my ability to write on horseback), where we will collect our goods and make sure the new ranger corps is ready to resume the function of the now defunct Black Arrows.

From there I do not know where we will go. We have a lot of questions that need to be answered. I fret over the meaning of Barl’s last words to me, and cannot help but feel that others have been busy while we have been sent out here in the near wilderness.

I think a return to Magnimar is in order. We have a number of unique items that will only fetch a good price in a big city, and my companions apparently took ownership of a nice townhouse in one of the better districts.

And Magnimar was also where we last saw Xanesha. I fear we have not yet finished with her, and the best place to begin our search for her current location is at the place of the group’s last encounter with her.

== Wealday, Desnus 14, 4708; Fort Rannick; noon ==

Dereldon was still training, and so we told him when he was ready to make his way to Fort Rannick, where we would leave word for him of our intended destination.

We are on our way to the Iron Peaks to try and find Lamatar, the lost captain of the Black Arrows, and former lover to the fairy queen. We’ve managed to get a description of him from Jakardros, but as I sit here rereading it over lunch I can’t help but think that it could match just about any one of the rangers we’ve met thus far.

The fort is in good shape, and new recruits continue to trickle in. Jakardros is working with them to rebuild the ranger corps, but the Black Arrows are dead, and we should give our band a new name to bolster morale.

But what to call them? With the dissolution of the Black Arrows on everyone’s minds I feel we should avoid any archery related names. Rannick’s Rangers sounds as dull as the Hook Mountain Marauders sounds diabolical. The Iron Skulls… hmm, well now that at least sounds more like what is wanted.

Jakardros has also provided us with a specific location in the mountains where the ogres and giants have been seen. The fairy queen was certain she saw the giants carry off Lamatar into the mountains, and so we have added cold weather garb to our gear and are about to head off.

The plan is to walk through the woodland trails of the northern Sanos Forest where it thins out somewhat among the foothills of the Iron Mountains. Once we travel far enough west we will begin the difficult climb up into the mountains themselves, looking for signs of ogres or giants as we go.

A walk through the woods sounds pleasant, but the few trips I have made through mountain passes have proved to be slow going and difficult.

== Oathday, Desnus 15, 4708; Foothills of the Iron Peaks; past midnight ==

Darkness had already spread beneath the fir trees when we finally made a cold camp at the end of a long day’s march. Dinner was a cheerless affair, but the sky was clearing and the soft pinpoint lights from the stars could be glimpsed between the boughs.

I had the first watch, and listened as my companions spread out their blankets and bedrolls and slowly fell to slumber. We had finally established a working order for our watches. I took the first usually uneventful hours just after nightfall alone. Then Nolin and Trask served together, followed by Avia and Rigel, and then Kane and Sabin. If more than nine hours is needed we simply repeat the order until everyone is fully rested. Once Derel rejoins us I will have company again during my watch.

The moon was just beginning to climb over the mountains when I was finally able to turn to the comfort of my own bedroll.

What seemed like moments later Nolin was shaking me, urgently whispering to wake up. From the moon’s position high in the sky I guessed it had been more than two hours since I had gone to bed. I quickly grabbed my belt with its pouches and components for spell casting and joined the rest of the party, which was already spread out in a defensive semicircle facing west.

From that direction we heard the sound of large creatures noisily approaching us. They were speaking the grunting pig-like language that I have learned to associate with giant, but we could already tell they were trolls.

There were three or four older (meaning larger, dirtier, smellier, and more dangerous) trolls followed by two youngsters.

Nolin later reported that as they approached he heard one of the elders saying, “Must now come far from the mountain to find food. We teach you younguns how to hunt.”

They were not looking for us in particular, but they guffawed and shouted with what I assumed were bellows of glee when they saw us clustered together beneath the trees.

Their glee was rather short lived. Nolin grew to twice his normal size (I later learned Trask used a spell to accomplish this), and he, Avia and Sabin began to slice into them with deadly effect. And while our fighters had Kane and myself to heal their wounds, the trolls were left to their own regenerative powers to heal.

Only of course we had already learned that the secret to keeping a troll’s wounds from healing was fire, and Trask loved to play with fire. Kane quickly summoned a trio of small fire elementals while Trask bathed our scaly foes in the warm embrace of a fireball. He then summoned a couple of flaming spheres to keep the injured trolls injured and the dead trolls dead.

Kane and I were keeping the fighter’s healthy while Rigel and Trask attacked from a distance. One of the trolls tried to charge about our right flank and attack Rigel, but a Hold Person spell put and end to that tactic as well as to the troll itself.

The two junior trolls stood by and watched their elders get hacked away before showing any signs of alarm, but by then it was too late, and they too ended up as greasy green charred lumps of stinking troll flesh.

The entire battle took but a few minutes, and we have once again returned to watch and sleep. In the morning we will see from whence these trolls came.

== Oathday, Desnus 15, 4708; Ogre Stronghold; afternoon ==

In the morning we followed the troll tracks up and into the mountains. A few hours later these tracks were joined by those of ogres, but while the troll tracks continued on further west, the ogre tracks led further up into the mountains. Knowing we needed to head higher up, we followed the ogre tracks.

The higher we climbed the louder the wind shrieked about us, pelting us with pellets of snow blown down from the icy crags above.

The way became more steep and the snow deeper. Progress became more difficult, and while the bitter cold did not seem to bother me nearly as much as my companions, I moved slower than the others on the steeper, more treacherous slopes.

Still following the ogre tracks we clambered up onto an ice sheet that clung to the side of a deep valley. On our left a sheer wall of rock rose up to unguessable heights. To our right the ice ended in a steep drop off to the rocky depths of the chasm below.

Up and up we slowly climbed until at around ten thousand feet we came upon an enormous cave on our left, plunging deep into the western arm of the mountain. A plume of thick sooty smoke wafted out from the cave where the wind caught it and blasted it into our faces. The stench of ogre and other unpleasant things mingled with the smell of wood smoke.

The ogre tracks continued on within, but we paused, and huddling close to the mouth of the cave heard the booming voices of ogres within… but they were speaking in common, which was unusual.

“Wake up, idiot! You saw what happened last time Breakbones caught a guard sleeping.”

We learned from the ensuing conversation that 1) ogres could be pretty whiny, and 2) word had reached this remote place of our recapturing of Fort Rannick, and the ogres here were on high alert.

Rigel peeped into the cave and saw two ogres within arguing with one another. We hatched a plan to lure the ogres out to us where we would wait in ambush, making quick work of them.

Using a Silent Image spell Trask created the scene of two rangers dragging a third, injured ranger between them. He paraded them at the cave entrance, and soon one of the ogres came trotting out. He called out when he saw us, and the other came bounding out with bow in hand to help. But the first ogre had dropped by the time the second arrived, and so it turned tail, running back into the cave and raising the alarm.

A silence spell and quick work from the team made short work of him, and after taking anything worthwhile we unceremoniously dropped the two corpses over the precipice.

[530] master work long-bow
[531] 2 potions of Cure Moderate Wounds (1 consumed by Avia)
[532] 2 +1 hide armor (1 given to Glark later)

We then turned our attention to the cave… or I should say giant cavern — the enclosed space was vast.

Kane, who had crept in ahead of the party, was standing halfway down the cavern, staring at the walls. As we came up to him we saw that he was actually gaping at the huge bones protruding from the walls. The bones glistened with an almost opalescent blue sheen, and had been worked over time with scrimshaw and other engravings ranging in quality from ornate to crude. Sabin thought they were from the rib-cage of a blue dragon.

As impressive as the dragon bones were, our attention was pulled toward the back of the chamber where a giant statue towered some forty feet above us. It had been carved from some odd black stone and was wearing full armor — real armor and not just a carving. Likewise it wore a massive helmet with a mask of a sneering devil, which hid its face. In its chunky right fist it grasped a wicked looking glave. Cracks had been skillfully carved all across its skin.

That the statue was wearing actual armor made us leery of any enchantments that might call this colossal golem into action. But after thoroughly scrutinizing the thing with numerous Detect Magic spells we realized that this was in fact the body of an actual giant — an immense giant, the likes of which no longer grace (or menace) the world today.

It wore a large pendant with a sihedron rune that radiated magic, and we understood that like the smaller versions we had already found, this one cast Gentle Repose upon its wearer.

The sheer size of the thing was stupendous… and yet its presence fit with what lore we had already learned about the Runelords and their alliance with a race of giants. Indeed the size of the creature before us was completely in scale with many of the massive Thassilonian ruins found about Varasia.

Reluctantly we turned our attention away from this wonder and towards the large, irregular steps that led up to a smaller cavern to the north. The smoke (and stench) we had encountered from without poured out from this opening along with a diffuse orange-red glow.

At the top of the steps the cave branched to the right and left. The glow came from the right, and I cautiously followed it to a circular chamber. In the center a giant pit had excavated in the rock which plunged straight down a hundred feet. Piles of ash littered the bottom of the pit along with charred and burning humanoid corpses, some still on fire, which provided the feeble light with which we were able to see.

An pungent smoke rose up from the pit and drifted out and into the large cavern.

We followed the western branch of the cave to another stairway, from the foot of which the slight sound of weapons being grabbed was heard. We could barely make out a large shape standing at the top of the stairs on the edge of our vision, but we heard other hulking creatures behind it. Trask illuminated the far end of the cave for a moment with a fireball, revealing three tough looking ogres advancing on us, with the rear two now looking seriously singed.

Nolin, Avia and Sabin rushed to the front and attacked the lead ogre, who fell under their devastating assault, surprising the other two, who called out for help. As the battle heated up Trask used Haste to greatly improve our effectiveness in combat.

As usual Rigel supplemented the damage dealt with her bow and arrows, while Kane and I assisted where and how we could.

A second ogre was slain, and the third seriously wounded when help (for them) arrived. Perhaps a dozen ogres quick stepped up from the south. But most of the new arrivals were obviously not fighters — in fact they looked worn out and ill treated, and had only the most basic weapons and no armor at all.

Two burly ogres, both well fed and well equipped, ran to the back of the line and yelled, “Come on, forge maggots, clean them up and get back to work.”

I am a healer, and while I can swat at a big nasty if it comes too near (and there is nobody else better equipped to deal with it), I leave the fighting to the fighters. Even my magical abilities are tailored toward healing, and the few aggressive spells I know do only minimal damage at best, and so I usually leave the offensive spell casting to others.

My specialization does have its advantages. A scrawny human running about the battlefield, speaking soft words and touching his comrades poses no discernible threat. I have no need for great armor or weaponry, which further lowers my perception as a risk to our enemies. Usually by the time the other side realizes that nobody on our side remains injured or fallen for very long, and that perhaps the innocuous looking man might have something to do with it, they are mostly dead or dying.

But every now and then I feel a quiet rage and have a great urge to hurt someone very badly. The two ogres in charge received the full force of my anger, but it amounted to nothing more than a shaken fist in their direction.

Trask, happily, does not suffer from my offensive limitations, and he placed another fireball in the midst of the new comers. When the blast faded only four ogres remained. The cowardly ogres in charge ordered the two remaining forge workers to fight us.

Nolin and I called out and told them that if the retreated we would not harm them. One of them saw the logic behind this and ran off south. The other charged at us and fell.

Finally! The two boss ogres were looking a little nervous, and I used Hold Person on one of them, whom Avia finished off, while the rest of us focused on the remaining ogre, who was seriously wounded by the time he fled south.

Sabin, Nolin, Rigel and I chased after him, and down the short flight of stairs to the south was a large chamber with great pits of fire, anvils and other metal working tools and equipment — a forge.

Standing in the forge were the smart ogre who had run away when told and the stupid ogre who liked to live off the sweat and pain of his fellow ogres. We killed that one. It felt good.

The one surviving ogre looked at us nervously, and glanced down uneasily at the crudely forged ogre hook in his meaty hand.

I told him we would not hurt him, but he was skeptical. He pointed out that we invaded the great ogre stronghold, and so what else were we going to do there but kill ogres?

Interesting. Already he was providing us with useful information.

I told him, truthfully enough, that we had no idea there was an ogre stronghold up here, and that we were searching for a man, or the body of a man, more than likely. Nolin thought to ask him for his name, to which he sullenly replied, “Glark.”

I then asked why he and the other ogres were speaking in the common tongue, to which he snorted in reply, “You speak giantish if you want giant to understand, and you speak other tongue if you not want him understand.”

“What giant?”

“Carl Breakbones. Him now leader of ogre clan.”

“What gives a giant the right to rule over ogres?”

“Him show up some months ago with tokens of ogre clan, claiming the right to battle our great leader. Our leader, powerful strong warrior, had to accept, and Breakbones killed him real quick.”

“Would the ogres be happier without Breakbones as their leader?”

“Um, well, yeah. But nobody want to challenge Breakbones.”

“What if we kill Breakbones?”

At this Glark burst into hysterical fits of laughter from which it took him some time to recover.

“Breakbones huge and strong and squash puny humans!”

I then pointed out that we had just fought a dozen and a half ogres in the past few minutes, and while all but one of them were dead, none of us were injured, or even breathing hard.

He grew thoughtful at that, when Nolin asked if the giant had arrived with a woman named Lucrecia. Glark nodded and said, “She great and powerful sorceress who helped ogres take mighty fort. It be she and Carl what ordered us to forge weapons and armor for great war where giants and ogres kill (and eat) all other peoples.”

And all this time my fellow travellers had teased me about keeping Lucrecia’s severed head stashed in a bag, and kept fresh with Gentle Repose. I took the bag out from my pack and pulled Lucrecia’s head out by the hair.

Glark’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“We too are very powerful, and we know how to deal with our enemies,” and here I paused and jiggled Lucrecia’s head a little for dramatic effect, “as well as how to reward our friends.” I looked Glark straight in the eyes and said, “If you help us find this man we are seeking we will pay you gold, as well as give you the really nice armor the guards were wearing. We will also deal with Carl Breakbones so the ogres will no longer be pawns in someone else’s affairs.”

For a moment it looked as though I had strung too many words together for Glark to follow, but he apparently got the gist of it and happily agreed to our terms.

We explained that the man we were seeking was a ranger: the captain of the fort the ogres had captured. Glark thought the man might have been given to “the sisters” to play with. He did not like to talk about the sisters, because they were mean to him, and so we are not quite sure who or what they are. Other than they can scare a full grown ogre in his own home.

Glark then promised to leave the ogre hold for a few days to avoid any combat (we’d hate to see him get hurt), and we paid him the 10 gold pieces we had promised. He also wanted Lucrecia’s head, but he accepted that we would need it for a while longer, but that he could have it should we prove successful in our quest.

The entire party had gathered around while Glark and I chatted, and as Glark agreed to stay away for several days, Trask reached over and touched him with a glowing hand, saying that his word was now bonded and he would be held to it as would we to ours.

Glark’s eyes got big again, only this time he pointed at Trask’s hand and said, “Me want the glowy hand too!”

I trotted up the stairs back to the bodies of the fallen ogres and took the hand from the slave driver and cast Light upon it. I then returned with the hand and gave it to Glark, explaining that it would stop glowing after and hour or so, but that when he came back in several days we would make it glow again.

Glark took his new possessions and proudly trotted out of the cavern with his glowing hand held aloft, much like a dog showing off a new bone.

Kane may need my assistance because he is laughing so hard that he appears to be having trouble breathing.

The others have gone over the ogre corpses and claimed what little of use or value there was.

The time for rest and reflection is over, and we must resume our exploration.

== Fireday, Pharast 7, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Evening ==

Night has finally fallen on this troubled day, and about us on the shore of the swollen Skull River survivors huddle in damp blankets. Smokey fires give off little heat and even less comfort after misfortune had piled upon misfortune to erase Turtleback Ferry from the map.

At least there are survivors — and far more than there might have been had the day gone much worse.

Hours before, as Kane and I watched the waters rising — threatening the sick and infirm that sought refuge in the beleaguered cathedral — we knew we had to act fast to save those who remained trapped in the drowning town.

Making judicious use of Water Breathing and Water Walking spells we recruited two young men to help us form a raft from the temple pews. The pews would help us float the weak to the relative safety of the shore, but of course they were in the flooded lower level of the cathedral. After about an hour we managed to manhandle four benches out to the front doors when we spied something wicked swimming straight at the cathedral.

A huge a snake like head with a gaping maw full of needle teeth rose up from the water as a dozen or more fanged tentacles wriggled about it menacingly.

I yelled to those within the cathedral to get out, but Kane stood his ground between the beast and cathedral as it thrust its ugly face towards us and belched forth a noxious cloud of greasy black vapor.

For perhaps half a minute I was in a state of utter panic and confusion, with no idea what was going on about me. I drew my knife and attacked the nearest thing near me, which always turned out to be Kane. I am not a fighter, and while I can scrape by in combat if hard pressed, I tend to leave the martial arts to those better suited for it. It was just as well, because to my lasting shame I actually injured my friend and ally when he was most in need of assistance.

All of this time the creature savagely tore away at the cathedral, attacking it with a cold deadly purpose, heedless of the helpless souls within.

Kane managed to dance away from me, and after a moment or two more I came to my senses. Seeing that Kane was only moderately wounded (by my own hand!) we quickly forced ten people onto one of the pews floating nearby and dragged it away to the western shore.

Of our two helpers I saw no sign, and learned later that they had fled as soon as the beast had risen from the waters.

As we turned to head back to rescue more, we saw the monster raise up to an incredible height and crash down upon the cathedral walls that were still standing, smashing them to stone dust. What was left of the structure disintegrated in the rushing waters, taking with it the bodies of those who had perished within.

The creature then screamed up to the rain laden clouds, as if in joy at what it had done, and slithered away down river.

And with that the rain lessened before stopping altogether.

We built a small fire, which heartened those we rescued, who gathered about the dismal smoking thing.

I calmed the horse upon which we had returned to town and rode about the area looking for other townsfolk who had survived. And so they began to return, all alone or in twos, or gathered together in bands. They came to our small camp fire, and about it their sense of community regrouped and reasserted itself.

Many came back with provisions which they had rescued from the flood, and some rode in on the horses they had taken at the outset of the catastrophe. My own horse, Butters, was among them, along with Trask’s trusty steed.

Hasty shelters were erected, and trees felled to provide fuel for more fires and longer term housing. The people of Turtleback Ferry are a resilient lot, and they voiced their determination to rebuild. As if to prove it they had in mind to start rebuilding right away.

In the midst of this hustle and bustle a stranger walked in from the west. His clothes were stained from days of hard travel, and he looked about the remnants of Turtleback Ferry as if it were no great thing to one as world weary as he.

He made his way over to Kane and I and introduced himself as a messenger from Magnimar. He expressed his condolences for the loss of the Black Arrows, but said that rumor of war kept Magnimar from sending any aid. As a reward for driving Lucretia and the ogres from Fort Rannick, our reward was the fort itself. He handed over a deed, signed by the Lord Mayor himself, and then walked over to the nearest fire and sat down.

Well, I can certainly see why they sent this somber fellow with such grim news and such a dubious reward as a twice sacked fort.

Townsfolk continued to trickle in from the woods as the day passed noon and our companions trudging on foot from Fort Rannick arrived. Pausing for a brief rest and a few spells to restore their vigor we began to discuss our next course of action, while Nolin set out to retrieve the rest of our horses.

The locals had no desire to journey to the fort, where shelter, food and safety awaited.

While talking with them we heard many curses and exclamations of horror about “Black Maga” — their name for the thing that had destroyed the cathedral. They shared many stories about the creature — some more believable than others — and said it served Lamashtu.

Sabin quickly pulled out a copy of Lamashtu’s Bestiary that my companions acquired during their adventures in Sandpoint, and found the pertinent entry.

Mothers of Oblivion. They are the favorite servants of Lamashtu, and have an unholy and insatiable hatred for all things uncorrupt. They can control weather, and as Outsiders can move through the planes (a warning was scribbled in the margins about not using teleportation magics near them).

Lovely. Local folk lore held that one of these things had been lurking in the depths of The Storval Deep. I can’t wait to tell the family about what has been hiding practically in our back yard all of this time.

We have decided that in the morning we will head up to the dam and deal with the threat of another, more catastrophic breach.

Nolin has returned with the rest of our horses (and a few stragglers), and so we will make good time on our travels tomorrow.

== Starday, Pharast 8, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Morning ==

There was some good news this morning: the town’s cleric survived Black Maga’s destruction of the temple, and managed to save another parishioner along with himself. They plunged into the flood waters and spent most of the night making their way back. The cleric shook his head when we asked him what he knew about Black Maga, and said it was untouchable by godly magic.

We also found Malin Shreed, the mayor of Turtleback Ferry, and he insisted that the town would be rebuilt, and urged us to hasten to the dam to stop any risk of further flooding.

And so we are mounting up and heading back north.

== Starday, Pharast 8, 4708; Fort Rannick; Noon ==

We paused briefly at the fort to update our trio of rangers on the happenings in town. We urged them to continue to hold the fort while we proceeded on to the dam to take on the giants.

== Starday, Pharast 8, 4708; Skull’s Crossing; Late afternoon ==

The dam at Skull’s Crossing is another of those ancient Thassilonian works of engineering that grace the continent. Being from the Storval Plataea my family passed down its own tales of the Storval Deep and the massive work of stone that held back those icy deep blue waters.

And yet those legends do not do the mighty structure justice, and it pains me to see the recent damage wrecked upon it by the agents of Lucretia. Those who are incapable of creating such marvels can still destroy them.

We arrived in the thickening gloom of a building storm as we peered up at the wall of rock. Giant skulls were set in the stone, with water pouring out their gaping jaws. A huge fissure had been smashed from the top of the dam down through one of the skulls, and it was through here that the initial flood waters had spilled the day before.

Half a dozen hulking figures moved about the top of the dam, and the dim sound of stone crashing against stone echoed down to us. Even as we watched a fat raindrop splashed on the ground nearby, with many more of its siblings following in close pursuit.

A set of uneven steps, now wet and slick with rain, clung to the western wall of the rocky chasm, leading up towards the top of the dam. Rigel and Kane crept up the stairs while Trask and I huddled at the base, ready to offer magical aid if needed.

Skulls of every kind lined the stairway, each marked with a skull-like rune. Rigel and Kane soon returned with news that the stairs ended in a dark gaping hole in the side of the cliff, and that it would be best if we made our way through the tunnel in mass.

The others joined us, and Sabin recognized the rune carved into the skulls as belonging to the Skull Taker tribe of trolls. Trolls! Perhaps an easier foe than giants, but still a tough nut to crack. It is said that trolls quickly heal from normals wounds, no matter how lethal.

Trask slipped on the slick stone work and slid down some 60 feet, but Kane tended to his injuries and we were soon all grouped at the top of the stairs.

A pungent stench wafted out from cave entrance of sweat mixed with something else… something unpleasant.

At the end of a dim tunnel was a wall 15 feet high, and above that a little more light and the sound of something heavy moving about.

I quietly fashioned a set of stone steps leading up via a Stone Shape spell and Sabin crept up and peered over. An ettin stood guard with a large flail in either hand. It peered down at Sabin with its dull, stupid eyes set in both of its heads and said, “You not be here!”

A brief conversation ensued where we it proudly announced that it was the guard for the Skull Takers, and after we offered the ettin a bribe, it held a hot debate with itself about how it had gotten into trouble for taking bribes before. Apparently one of the heads was more susceptible to this sort of thing than the other, but unfortunately it was not the dominant head, and so I cast Silence about it before it could bellow out a warning to the trolls beyond.

It was sad, really, at how quickly it fell. I almost felt sorry for it. Almost.

Past the ettin was a sleeping alcove, in which we found a small cache of items it had no doubt looted over its sad little life.

693 gold pieces
1240 silver pieces
[500] 6 peals in a velvet pouch
[501] phylactery of positive channeling
[502] ivory scroll tube with jade
[503] scroll: Cone of Cold, Hold Monster, Telekinesis

Both Kane and I eyed the phylactery with great intent, and he graciously allowed me to wear it. The next time I am able to train I will focus on learning a new ability — a feat that will enable me to chanel energy more often each day — and so make better use of this device.

We scrambled up another shelf and found ourselves at the far cave entrance that lead out onto the top of the dam. Halfway across the dam was a tower in the shape of several giant skulls, and between us and the tower were half a dozen ogres.

One of the ogres was larger than the others, and appeared to be the foreman in charge of the others, who were smashing rocks against the dam. They looked weary, as if they had been forced to work for a long time with little rest and less food.

One fireball, courtesy of Trask, and a few arrows later and they all lay dead.

We cautiously approached the tower and peered in through the large windows. The interior was coated with matts of green ropey fungus, and we carefully climbed inside.

Avia detected four evil things hiding behind a curtain of the fungus, as four trolls stepped out and attacked.

We killed them, some more than once, and noted that the use of Trask’s Burning Sphere limited their ability to regenerate from injury. The lesson learned was that fire was good, and we needed to employ it whenever we fought these fell creatures.

We’ve rested only for a moment and are ready to move on.

== Moonday, Pharast 3, 4708; Fort Rennick; Mid day ==

With the ogre butcher from the fort’s chapel slain, we quickly made our way to the southern room of the keep’s main tower. It was from here, beyond the sturdy wood door, where Avia had detected another strong source of evil.

In a well orchestrated move Kane rushed towards the door, opening it and stepping aside just as Avia rushed in, closely followed by Sabin, Derrel and the rest of the party. The room had obviously been the bedroom of the fort’s commander, Captain Bedan, but now it was occupied by a female ogre (or so we assumed from her dress) and her two minions, who were large and menacing even for ogres.

We were expected, and the two guards were standing alert facing the door with weapons ready, while the female ogre stood near the back of the room, her shape shimmering and shifting in an unnatural way that tricked the eye, making it difficult to focus on her.

An ogre mage! While the fighters took on the guards, I quickly cast Dispel Magic on the ogress, and she snapped into focus. She lifted her meaty hand and a bolt of electricity arced from her finger to Sabin, who crackled and smoked from the attack.

From the grunts and pig like squeals of our opponents Sabin learned that the ogress’ name was Dorella, and obviously in charge here, but in order to get to her we needed to first hack through her guards.

Avia, Sabin and Derrel were arranged about the first guard, while Nolin held the second at bay on his own. Trask and Rigel provided ranges attacks, and Kane hung out in the hallway by the door, on the lookout for unwelcome arrivals. I was positioned between Nolin and Avia, ready to offer whatever support I could where it was needed.

And support from we healers was definitely needed. The first guard sliced into Avia with a brutal slash from its ogre hook, and she staggered with the impact. Kane and I immediately assisted with healing as Trask, Sabin and Rigel counter attacked. Nolin was hacking away at his ogre and being repaid in kind.

These ogres were proving far more difficult than the louts we had encountered below. When Sabin replied, “I don’t know,” to Rigel’s question about the guards’ names, Avia shouted out in exasperation, “It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t have a name, it still hurts!”

Slowly we were wearing the guards down, but Trask hastened the process with a carefully placed fireball. Soon the first ogre dropped, which allowed us to focus on the second, which Trask finished off with a Burning Hands spell.

That left Dorella, against whom Nolin was already pressing a powerful attack, while Sabin tried the more subtle approach of casting Touch of Idiocy. Dorella appeared to have the same thought and cast the same spell upon Sabin. But Dorella was hopelessly out classed and Nolin swiftly hacked her to bits.

We then searched this room and the chapel and gathered together the items we had found.

From the ogre in the chapel:

[279] +1 ogre hook of Human Bane [+1D6]
[280] 2 potions of Cure Serious Wounds (Avia and Sabin)
[281] +2 bracers (Derrel)
[282] +4 belt of giant strength (Derrel)

From the ogre guards:

[283] masterwork long-bow [STR +7]
[284] +1 ogre hook
[285] +1 ogre hook
[286] potion of Cure Moderate Wounds (Darrel)
[287] potion of Cure Moderate Wounds (Trask)
[288] +1 hide shirt (large)
[289] +1 hide shirt (large)

From Dorella:

[290] wand of acid arrow [43 charges] (Trask)
[291] +2 amulet of natural armor (Kane)
[292] +2 cloak of charisma (Trask)

While the rest of us were checking the bodies of our fallen foes, Avia scanned the walls to the north and announced that there were two additional evil beings beyond.

I cast prayer as we did the obvious and opened the double doors to what once were the the fort’s tribunal chamber. From the rafters above hung two humans, who had been carefully cut open with a knife so that their blood drained into a pair of buckets on the floor. A pair of burly ogres stood beneath the humans, admiring their handiwork.

Avia charged in and attacked the nearest ogre, who skillfully counter attacked, grievous injuring her. Nolin, Derrel and Sabin rushed in and engaged the two ogres, who seemed quite adapt at martial arts and inflicted a great deal of damage to our front line fighters.

Avia, who had not been fully healed after her encounter with Dorella’s entourage, was the focus for both ogres aggression, and she fell to the floor, her sword clattering loudly beside her. Kane and I quickly rushed to her aid, healing her wounds and helping pull her back from the main action.

Trask sent a flaming sphere in to distract one ogre while Nolin and Sabin hacked frantically at it. Derrel used his fists to deadly affect, slaying the oaf, as Avia stood and finished off the other.

We spent a moment or two catching our breaths and healing everybody fully, and Avia scanned the area and pronounced there were no more evil presences on the keep.

Rigel searched the room and found a secret door to the south, beyond which was a map room. Many of the maps had been taken out and ripped to shreds, but many more remained in the shelves.

Sabin and I were quite interested in what we found here, and when the others lost interest and returned to Dorella’s room to search for hidden loot, we continued to scan through the maps.

Two in particular grabbed our attention, and we decided to keep them for later study.

[293] Map of Viperwall — lower tunnels charted with notes (Takkad) Viperwall is a famous ruin of a fortress where poisonous gases seep from the mouths of its many fanged statues. The map was beautifully drawn and skillfully embossed.
[294] Map Lurkwood, including paths (Takkad)

Our companions found several additional items hidden away in Dorella’s room — items that probably belonged to the now deceased Captain Bedan.

[295] Flat wooden coffer with dozens of sheets of parchment, and poetry written on each to “Miriana”. (Returned to rangers)
[296] A tiny jewelry box (Returned to rangers)
[297] A locket on a silver chain with a lock of hair — golden andiridescent and definitely not human — “For my Lamatar” engraved on the back (Returned to rangers)
[298] Pair of soft green leather swamp boots (Rigel)

The wearer of the boots has the ability to walk on water in
a swamp (no more than 5′ deep). The wearer will leave no tacks,
and is protected against rain and fog, plus they receive a +2
on fortitude saves against poison and disease.

We called our ranger friends down from their watch on the towers and let them know we had cleared the keep itself, and also shared with them what was found in Dorella’s room.

Jakardros was amazed by the poetry and locket, and said the captain must have had a relationship with a water nymph. He thought it fitting that we keep the boots because we were driving out the intruders from Bedan’s last post.

We pressed on, completing our exploration of the keep by climbing up the highest tower. At the top was a massive wooden frame supported a cracked bell, where the clapper had been replaced with a dead ranger wearing a metal helm.

From the top we could see that thus far the remaining ogres in the fort were unaware of our activities in the keep, and so we improvised a very loose plan.

The rangers and those of us who worked best with ranged attacks (Rigel and Trask) would man the lower towers of the keep and support our attacks as they could. Trask, who has proven himself both handy and skilled with the Fireball spell, was told to use his own judgement and take advantage of ogres massing together to inflict as much damage as possible on as many foes as he could at one time.

Meanwhile the rest of us hid ourselves about the broken keep gates while Sabin, using the hat of disguise, posed as Lucretia and commanded three ogres to accompany him… ah, her back into the keep. There we all jumped out and killed the lot of them.

As luck would have it, the day had waxed to the lunch hour, and ogres began to gather outside by an open air kitchen. Perhaps seventeen ogres in all were milling about in one small area.

Trask set off a fireball in the middle of them.

The result was wonderful chaos: ogres attacked one another or stood still in shock, while a few (very few) jumped into the nearby pool of water or ran towards the nearby barracks. Another fireball and all of the ogres remaining by the kitchen were dead, while those that had ran off howled in rage and confusion, or just in general (it seems to be something ogres do a lot).

Then Trask did something brilliant: he created the image of a red dragon landing in the fort’s courtyard.

This was too much for the half a dozen surviving, but seriously burned, ogres who rushed to the gate, threw it open and raced off into the woods.

We quickly ran out and closed the gate behind them, while our new pet dragon glared menacingly out from the the walls of Fort Rennick.

We searched the remaining out-buildings for other ogres or surviving rangers, but found nothing. There was a tunnel that led up to the top of the cliff overlooking the fort and there, according to Jakardros, lived a family of great eagles who helped guard the fort. But they eagles were gone, having been killed or driven off in the initial ogre attack.

So victory was ours, and we had but to wait for the reinforcements from Magnimar and collect our reward, or so it seemed.

But I was uneasy. The rain, which was heavy when we first arrived at Rennick, had intensified since then, and seemed almost unnatural. And where were the giants that Kaven the traitor had mentioned as being part of the attack?

And what about the dam? My original concern over the fall of Fort Rennick had been that it protected the dam that held back the waters of the Storval Deep. Surely with all of the recent rains the Deep must be practically overflowing.

I wanted the rangers to guard the fort while the rest of us checked on the state of the dam, but the rangers seemed unsure that they could hold out against an attack. And so we sent the rangers off to scout out the dam while the rest of us remained behind.

I have a bad feeling about this.

== Toilday, Pharast 4, 4708; Fort Rennick; Evening ==

The rangers left early this morning for their trek to the dam. They estimated the trip will take them two to three days, slogging through the thick mud.

Meanwhile we have begun to clean up the aftermath of the ogre invasion. The slain rangers have been interred in their crypt, which occupied much of my time. The others cleaned up the debris and repaired what they could to make the fort as defensible and livable as possible.

== Wealday, Pharast 5, 4708; Fort Rennick; Evening ==

We spent most of the day making repairs via Make Whole spells or the old fashioned way with muscle and grit. While some of the damage is beyond our ability to mend, we have at least removed the grisly remains and blood from all areas of the fort, and made a great pile of what furniture we could not fix (it shall make excellent kindling).

We removed the markings of Lamashtu in the chapel and rededicated it to Desna (or Kane did, to be precise).

I spent much of my time placing glyphs of warding about the gates and the secret passageways into the fort. Nothing evil shall pass this way without feeling displeasure from Pharasma.

It still rains as if all the worlds waters were being funneled from the sky down upon us.

== Oathday, Pharast 6, 4708; Fort Rennick; Evening ==

And still the rains continue.

We worked more on the fort’s defenses today, and I set down more glyphs of warding.

Although we keep a constant watch on the walls, we have restored the interior of the keep to much of its previous level of comfort, and rest while we can in the library before a brightly blazing fire.

We are on the look out for the rangers and anxious for their return. If they are not back by mid day tomorrow I will insist that we set out for the dam ourselves, the fort be damned.

== Fireday, Pharast 7, 4708; Fort Rennick; Early morning ==

The rangers have returned, and it is worse than I feared. The dam is under the assault of both giants and ogres. On their way back the rangers heard a terrible noise and the sound of rushing water.

My first inclination was to return to the damn in force, drive off the opposing force and repair the dam as best we can.

But then came the messenger from Turtleback Ferry on horseback. The waters began rising in the pre-dawn hours and the town is flooding. Some have fled, but many can not, or know not where to go.

And so our decision has been made for us: we must return and lend our aid at once. The towns folk can come here, to Fort Rennick, which by our efforts is now a place where ordinary people can safely live for a time.

Kane and I are to take the man’s horse back to town now, while the others follow as swiftly as they may on foot.

The rangers must now remain at the fort and keep it safe for the town’s people we will send this way.

And even now, as we prepare to depart, my mind turns to the mundane: how shall we feed an entire town, when the area around the fort has been plundered by the ogres?

== Fireday, Pharast 7, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Morning ==

We splashed into Turtleback Ferry scarcely and hour ago, and the scene was as desperate as described to us.

A mother and her children were in a small boat, which had drifted against the walls of the merchant, when a huge python swam over to attack. Kane and I drew the creature towards us and battled it the best we could. Neither of us are fighters, but we managed to drive it away.

We then pushed the boat to the town cathedral, which is where many of the refugees had gathered. And yet this stone building would only offer temporary sanctuary. Already the surging waters were scouring away the earth beneath the massive stone walls.

We are calling out to everyone we can see, telling them to gather here at the cathedral. From here we will set out towards Fort Rennick, although many of those here are too small or weak to struggle against the flood’s current. We must gather more boats or build rafts — already I find myself gazing up at the mighty timbers of the cathedral’s roof.

We pause now only for a moment as the survivors gather about us, and now we must organize those who are able to help the others.

== Moonday, Pharast 3, 4708; Within Fort Rannick; An hour after midnight ==

After healing and restoring those injured in the fight with Lucretia we searched her and her room. She carried several items that were useful, but the room itself only held the tantalizing ashen remains of some papers.

[270] wand of scorching ray {22 charges} (Trask)
[271] +1 keen edge rapier (Rigel)
[272] sihedron medallion: like the one from Thistlestop (Darrel)
[273] masterwork dagger (Takkad)

Having removed Lucretia of her belongings we then removed her of her head, and stashed her corpse in the secret tunnel. We kept her head, just in case.

We knew the door to the north led up to somewhere into the fort, and so we tried the door to the west and found a cell block with the gruesome remains of the handful of rangers that had survived the initial ogre invasion.

Even though it was late, we needed to know more about our position and that of the ogres before we could plan our next actions. Jakardros and Vale set out to scout our immediate vicinity. Perhaps half an hour later they returned with their report.

The stairway led up into the northeast corner of the fort’s inner keep. Thick walls set with three guard towers protected this inner structure from the rest of the fortress, and served as a defensible place in case the outer walls were breached.

From the top of the nearest tower they saw perhaps half a dozen ogres on patrol in a careless fashion atop the walls. They had heard sounds of ogres from within the keep, and assumed the bulk of the force was housed in the keep itself and in the courtyard’s out buildings.

We decided to explore the first level of the keep, hoping to catch as many ogres sleeping as possible, and to quickly kill them off one at a time.

With Jakardros’ help I sketched a map of the keep, and using this as a guide we crept out into the main hallway. Shalelu, Vale and Jakardros we sent up into each of the towers — the doors and narrow ladders were too small for ogres, and so these were safe places for the rangers to keep watch. I used a Status spell to monitor Vale and Jakardros, who manned the further towers.

L. A library, from which the first tower was accessed.

1. The infirmary held a few beds, a desk and a table, and sitting at the table was a fat human with a spoon in one hand. He had been slit open and posed to look like he was eating his own entrails. Gore was carefully placed for maximum effect, and the hideous tableau looked as if it had been meticulously arranged by some artist with blasphemous taste.

Snoring came a bed in the far corner.

Nolin, Derrel and Sabin entered the room closed the door. A few moments later and we were down one ogre.

1. The mess hall had been torn apart, with tables and chairs smashed into kindling.

2. The kitchen was adjacent to the mess hall, and had likewise been plundered. A large cooking spit was in the center, and an alcove carved into the rock served as pantry.

3. 1. 1. Empty bedrooms with furniture broken and linen shredded.

4. The barracks. We did not open the doors yet because Avia detected six evil beings, and we could hear the snores, burps and farting of sleeping ogres within.

5. A large bedroom, in which Avia detected a single strong presence of evil.

6. A large bedroom from which we heard the sound of gruff laughter and something big moving about. Sabin, who can speak ogre, listened at the door and said it sounded like there were two ogres inside engaged in personal and intimate activities. Eeww.

7. An empty storage closet.

8. 1. Empty bedrooms with furniture broken and linen shredded.

Between rooms 8 and 9 were the keep’s gates, but they had been ripped from their hinges and lay in fragments on either side of the hall. Thus ended our hope of cutting off any ogres coming in from the rest of the fort.

We returned to room 8 where Sabin peeped in and saw an ogre sleeping in a bed against the far wall. But as he slipped in to cut its throat he bumped against a chair and woke the beast within. Nolin charged in and we closed the doors after. The muffled sounds of combat echoed out and down the halls, and worried that it would raise an alarm, and so some of us crept over to room 9, where the two ogres were stirring. Had we realized how formidable the ogre-captain within this first room really was we would have sent in extra support.

Just as Derrel and Avia positioned themselves on either side of the door it burst open and an ogre stood gaping out from the room. He… she… it was dressed in nothing but a suite human armor, which was way too small and was tied on with leather thongs. It was an inadequate garment, failing to cover much of its bulging, stinking hairy body, and we were treated to views of far more ogre anatomy than is good for one’s sanity.

I used a Hold Person spell on it while Derrel snapped its neck.

Its, ah, mate (?!) barged into the hall shouting, “Little people! Food! Intruders!” (Sabin told us this later, but at the time we just heard the guttural grunts and cries of what sounded like a wounded bull lusting after a sow in heat.)

So much for the element of surprise.

I quickly ran to the east side of the barracks and using Stone Shape pulled up a sheet of stone from the floor, effectively barricading the double doors as we heard the sounds of ogres stirring within.

Avia, Derrel and Rigel were slashing away at the ogre who had sounded the alarm, and it quickly succumbed to their onslaught.

Meanwhile Trask had used the hat of disguise to appear as Lucretia, and stood before the doors at the west side of the barracks. As the first ogre burst through he found Lucretia there commanding him to “STOP!”

This attempt at subterfuge may have worked had Darrel not run over and started beating on the slightly confused ogre. With a gruff “get out of my way, Lady” Trask found himself shoved into the corner, protected from his friends by an ogre. Another Hold Person spell later and the Derrel had broken the neck of yet another ogre.

At about this time Nolin and Sabin had finished with the uber-ogre and were rushing over to join our battle with Kane providing support, when the four ogres still in the barracks broke through the south wall. But before they could attack they were engulfed in an exploding conflagration of burning love, hand delivered by Trask, who was still dressed as Lucretia.

Our warriors held the angry ogres at bay while Trask launched another fireball at them, charring them into grotesque morsels of crispy fried ogre.

And that was how we killed 10 ogres in under 10 minutes.

After a bout of healing we searched the bedroom of the elite ogre Nolin and Sabin had battled, finding quite a few useful items.

[274] potion of cure moderate wounds
[275] +1 hide shirt {huge}
[276] +1 ogre hook
[277] masterwork composite long-bow {huge}
[278] a quiver of 20 arrows {huge}

We gathered the rangers who identified the ogres as of the Kreeg clan. Thinking of a way to stir dissension among the ranks of the remaining ogre force I asked if there was another ogre family particularly hostile to the Kreegs. They said there was an opposing tribe that cut off the hands of their fallen foes. And so we cut off the ogre hands and pinned them to the walls.

Avia had been busy all this time gazing up intently at the ceiling. “There are two very strong sources of evil above,” she said, pointing to various points at the ceiling as she walked about, “and three others at about the same level as those we fought here.”

But it was already well past midnight, and those of us not physically tired were mentally fatigued and low on spells. We decided to retreat to the secret tunnel for the remainder of the night and resume our attack in the morning.

We made our way back down through Lucretia’s abode and into the tunnel, making sure we left no tracks, and that the door was still hidden. Fortunately with the rangers on hand we can post a double watch through the night and still be well rested at day break.

== Moonday, Pharast 3, 4708; Within Fort Rannick; Late Morning ==

The night passed uneventfully for us, but when we returned to the main level of the keep we heard the sound of ogres investigating the carnage of the night before.

“I smell man stink!”

Ogres must have a much better sense of smell than I reckoned, and my plan to throw them off by displaying the hands of their fallen comrades was for naught.

We thought there might be two ogres out there, and decided to lure them down the hall where we could swiftly take them out one by one, using Hold Person on the rear ogre to prevent escape and the warning of others.

As it turned out there were three ogres, but events still went according to plan, and we hid their corpses as Avia confirmed the same presence of evil above as before.

The upper part of the keep was a broad round tower cut into the rock wall, with a narrower, taller tower embedded in its northeast quadrant. The stairs took us up into a wide hallway with several sets of doors.

Quietly Avia pointed out the doors behind which she felt the most powerful of the evil presences. One was to the west of the hall, and the other south of where the hall turned to the west.

Our plan is to quickly confront the strong source of evil to the west, which is by itself, and then quickly move to encounter the second malignant source to the south.

We hope that a Silence spell will extend our element of surprise past the first fight, and we can focus our fury on one opponent at a time.

All is ready and we are about to launch our westward attack!

== Moonday, Pharast 3, 4708; Within Fort Rannick; Late Morning ==

Success! Now on through the southern door while Silence still prevails.

== Fireday, Calistril 28, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Evening ==

While the rest of the party prepared to burn the farm-stead to the ground, I assisted Jakardros and the other rangers create a pyre for their fallen comrades. As the flames consumed their mortal remains I performed the Rights of Passage and asked Pharasma to receive their souls.

Afterward, as the fires eagerly fed upon the house and barn, ridding the world of the taint contained therein, we prepared for our return to town. While we we made ready to depart we questioned Jakardros closely on the ogre attack, and how it was possible that the fort could have been captured while so stoutly manned by the renown Black Arrows.

He informed us that the Kreeg valley had been home to a large family of ogres for many years, and by using Fort Rannick as their base the Black Arrows had kept them in check. Some forty years ago ogres from across the area banded together and assaulted the fort, but were foiled by the fort’s defenses and utterly defeated.

Recently there had been an increase in ogre activity, and a week before the attack a thick plume of black smoke was spotted off in the distance, and a scouting party sent to investigate. The scouting party never returned and the Black Arrows increased their patrols.

A day before the attack Jakardros and his patrol had set out, but were delayed in Turtleback Ferry. Here Jakardros looked sharply at Kaven, who walked off in a huff saying, “Not this again.”

It appears that Kaven had kept the patrol in town a day longer because he had forgotten to pick up an order of weapons for Captain Bedan, the fort commander, from the blacksmith.

As it turned out, Kaven had volunteered for that particular patrol, and was the most recent “recruit,” although “draftee” may have been a more accurate description of his enlistment into the Black Arrows. He had been a troubled youth and had committed a series of misdeeds, escalating in severity, in town, after which he was forced to chose between five years of service with the rangers or prison.

We immediately became suspicious of Kaven, and after a brief interview we learned that he had been a regular customer of the Paradise, and that he thought highly of the boat’s owner, Lucrecia.

On the ride back to town we continued to question Jakardros about the fort, and because we suspected it had fallen by treachery on the inside, we asked about any secret entrances. And of course they existed: ancient tunnels delved beneath the fortress itself, which in the past had been used for burial of the fallen Black Arrows and as storage. Jakardros had never been in these tunnels himself, but knew at least one entrance was hidden behind a waterfall near the fort.

This brought the conversation around to the layout of Fort Rannick itself. It was nestled near the head of a valley, with a wide and fast creek flowing at the fort’s feet. The fort settled back into the cliff wall of the surrounding mountains, and a massive two story wall with watch towers ran from cliff wall to cliff wall. A smaller wall within separated an inner keep from a yard. Well fortified gates led out to bridges that crossed the stream and plunged into the woods on the opposite side of the water.

Further up the valley was a large reservoir, held back by a large stone damn.

We asked the ranger what purpose would capturing the fort serve, but his only thought was that it would allow the ogres free range over the entire area.

I had a much darker thought, and asked him what would be the consequences if the reservoir damn were destroyed. Jakardros blanched at that question, and my worst suspicions confirmed: it would wipe out all settlements and towns in the area, including Turtleback Ferry.

I then rode over next to Kaven and asked him about his life with the Black Arrows. Overall he seemed content, but he found the daily drudgery of life in the fort a bit dull, and longed to lead a more adventurous life. I told him about our suspicion that the enemy had found a way into the fort, and asked for his help in solving this riddle. At first he was a bit suspicious, but I told him he was only one of three survivors of the massacre (true enough), and that we needed his assistance if we were to understand what had happened and retake the fort.

He too mentioned the tunnels, but was less aware of their particulars than Jakardros, but then he gave a queer look and suggested someone could gain entrance via the kitchen’s trash chute.

We arrived back in town without incident, and paid extra to send a fast and secure high priority message to Magnimar about the fall of Fort Rannick at the hands of an organized force of ogres.

Trask, who was perhaps closest in age and temperament to Kaven, took him to the bar at the inn for a night of drinking and conversation. Sabin and I were seated at a nearby table, quietly watching and waiting. Rigel was on hand as barmaid and served up extra potent drinks for Kaven while keeping Task sober with a watered brew.

Trask, who has a gift for the gab, was able to turn the conversation this way and that, and quickly learned that Kaven was self centered and longed for the care free life of adventure, or at least his idealized version of it: pillaging the countryside in a life of drunken debauchery. He was trying to cozy Trask to the idea of his joining our group.

As Trask turned the talk to recent events, he discretely signaled Sabin, who began to listen in on Kaven’s thought’s via a Detect Thoughts spell.

Kaven was more than just taken with Lucrecia: he doted on her and would do much to please her. His primary thought was what would happen since he was not able to meet with her after the attack on the fort. He had apparently disobeyed her when he kept the patrol in Turtleback Ferry an extra night to avoid the attack: Lucrecia had wanted him present for that little affair.

I fueled the conversation by dropping by and whispering to Trask in a not too quiet tone that Avia and Nolin had discovered someone involved in the attack and that he had agreed to give the names of the other conspirators.

Kaven seemed quite upset by this and begged to attend the questioning of this informant. We agreed and set our trap on the edge of the forest just outside of town.

Derrel, the monk who had been captured by the ogrekin, agreed to play the part of the informant, masked with the hat of disguises and a scarf around his face. Avia served as his captor and guard.

Nolin told Jakardros of our suspicions, and he and Vale hid behind the trees as we brought Kaven over to witness the questioning of our fictitious witness.

The entire affair went as predicted. Kaven admitted to providing Lucrecia with information on how to get into the fort unseen, and justified his actions by pointing out he had saved the life of those on patrol. Both ogres and giants were involved in the attack, but the success was only assured with secret access to the inside. His primary desire now was to join us on the road and get as far away from Turtleback Ferry and Fort Rannick as possible.

At no point in time had Lucrecia threatened him or his loved ones, and so he did not betray the Black Arrows out of fear to protect himself or others. He had completely and willingly betrayed everyone he knew to impress Lucrecia.

There was no guilt or remorse over his actions that led to the death of virtually every ranger in Fort Rannick. No shame that he directly led to the death of three additional rangers of his own patrol, and put the entire population of the Kreeg valley at risk. Nothing but an eagerness to join in with what he saw as a life of privilege and partying.

Jakardros had heard enough and had Vale shackle Kaven in irons and place him in the local jail. He wanted Kaven to be completely sober in the morning to face his charges.

We feared Lucrecia or her minions might be lurking about and free him, but he was beneath her care or concern and we spent an event less night on watch.

== Starday, Pharast 1, 4708; Off the Road to Hook Mountain; Evening ==

In the morning we decided to travel up to Fort Rannick and see what could be done in retaking it, especially with the knowledge of the secret tunnels beneath, of which we hoped Lucrecia was still ignorant.

Jakardros and Vale would accompany us and serve as guides up to and around the fort. Derrel and Shelalu would also come along and provide much needed tactical support.

We decided to travel on foot and packed accordingly.

As we were readying to leave Jakardros and Vale joined us with Kaven still chained in irons. Jakardros answered our questioning looks with “We’re going on patrol,” and left it at that.

We would have an easy journey of two days to reach the fort on foot, and so we set out into the damp and gloomy morning. We covered much the same ground as the day before, but this time after crossing the river we remained on the main road.

The day remained thickly overcast and wet, and we made our camp off the road just before sunset. And it was a cheerless and fire-less evening, with an ever present fear of discovery haunting us.

Perhaps an hour later we heard a whistle from the direction of the road, and Vale stood and returned the call. A few tense moments later a runner from Turtleback Ferry came into camp with a reply to our message from Magnimar, “Proceed to scout the Fort. Retake it if the opportunity arises, and you will find Magnimar most grateful.”

It was most convenient that the reply matched exactly our intended actions, and that our efforts would be appreciated.

The messenger was invited to spend the evening in the relatively safety of our camp and return to town on the morrow.

We have set the watch as the dank and dark closes in around us, but sleep does not come easily. It is the first day of Pharast, and I wonder at how fast the year is flying past.

== Sunday, Pharast 2, 4708; Off the Road to Hook Mountain; Morning ==

The day has begun with an unexpected debate about what to do with Kaven.

Jakardros and Vale had planned to take him out on an early last patrol this morning, but in the night several of my companions had pleaded for his life, and so we have wasted precious hours debating Kaven’s future.

The man is a psychopath. The plight of others, or how they are affected by his actions do not even enter into his thoughts. I have seen this before and seen the fruits of any mercy shown to the likes of him. He will not change, and if allowed to live he will continue to heap misery and woe (or worse) onto others.

In the end it was decided to tie him securely to the base of a tree with provisions near at hand for several days. The bear is to guard him to ensure he does not escape and betray us all.

Pity. We could have used the bear.

== Sunday, Pharast 2, 4708; Outside Fort Rannick; Afternoon ==

The weather worsened as we approached Fort Rannick. Thunderstorms dogged us for the past few hours, drenching us with sheets of torrential rain and pelting us with unrelenting hail. Blast after blast of cold air buffeted us as the wind screamed among the tree tops. Lightening struck all around us as thunder boomed and echoed about the surrounding hills.

And once we have arrived we find that all of the storms had gathered here: bunched up before the bulk of Hook Mountain and unable to pass further west. And here they vented their frustration at wood, stone, river and us.

But the racket of the storm is good, because it covers any stray noise we may make as we look out from the forest onto Fort Rannick.

The fortress huddled against the foot of Hook Mountain as if it too were trying to shelter against the storm. Despite the gloom from the storm we saw that the layout is exactly as Jakardros described.

We saw many ogres patrolling along the top of the outer wall, and a few on the inner wall as well.

Jakardros pointed west, from which the river rounds the mountain spur, and said beyond was a pool, into which the river fell many feet in a fall. And behind the fall was the entrance to the secret caves.

The forest in which we are hid peters out in that direction, and the land becomes rocky and barren. We feared that we would be easily spotted from the ogres on the wall with the constant flashes of lightening, and so we decided to wait until dusk to set out.

As we waited we watched foraging parties of ogres head out and down river, and then return hours later.

== Sunday, Pharast 2, 4708; Inside Fort Rannick; Night ==

It was dark when we set out to the waterfall, and we moved slowly among the rocks before we found a narrow path that lead around to the pool and waterfall. We then carefully picked our way around the fall’s basin and slipped behind the cascading sheet of water.

We found ourselves in a large natural cavern with rotting wooden planks leading further in. It was near pitch black, but we dared not show any light, and so with Sabin in front we crept single file down a long straight tunnel deeper into the mountain.

In the next chamber we risked some light and brought out ever burning torches. We were gathered in the middle of large chamber, part natural and part chiseled out of the surrounding rock. The rangers obviously used this as an emergency armory, and we quickly surveyed the contents, finding mostly average weapons.

There were half a dozen magic arrows, which we gave to Rigel, and Sabin took a bow and quiver of arrows, which freed up his crossbow and bolts for me to use.

[267] 6 arrows of +2 shocking burst (all used in the ensuing battle)

As we searched about the crates a pair of large lizards scurried into the room. Jakardros made some disparaging noise about them, and Sabin attacked one. The result surprised us as an electrical arc jumped from the struck lizard to the other followed by a blast of lightening the seriously singed our party.

Heading Jakardros’ advice we left the lizards alone as they fled down an eastern passageway. This left us with an exit to the north, which we followed to a long cavern split by a vast fissure in the ground. A wood plank bridge crossed this deep dark gap and another tunnel awaited us on the far side.

After some distance this tunnel forked, and finding the right fork dead ended in what looked like a large secret door, we followed the left to a large room carved with many niches. In each niche was a fully armored body. One body lay crumpled in the center of the room. Jakardros said that the Black Arrows used to bury their dead here until the crypt was full.

As he said this a specter faded into view, and Jakardros approached it, naively greeting it as a fallen cousin. It quickly abused him of this notion as the rest of us counter attacked and killed the thing.

We returned to the large secret door and I cast a silence spell on the area as Nolin pulled the lever and a large rock door swung out and up. The fort’s inner yard lay before us, with the inner wall just to our right. But this was not where we needed to be, and so we closed the door and returned to the armory to try the other tunnel.

This quickly dropped down into a twisty maze of passages, all different. There were a number of lizards here, but moving slowly we safely explored the area and found a passage to another secret door to the north.

We used a flask of oil to lubricate the hinges and rock on which the door would swing, and after dowsing our torches, Nolin gently pulled the door inward.

A warm light spilled into our passageway accompanied by the smell of burning incense. A silk hanging was before the opening. Rigel lifted the bottom of the silk up a few inches and peeped into the room.

This had been the fort’s jail keeper’s chambers, but it had been redecorated with red silk hangings on the the walls (fortunately for us) and soft cushions lined the floor. An elegant well dressed lady stood in the center of the room with her back towards us (again, fortunately for us).

Avia was gesticulating wildly, leaving no doubt that the lady had a very strong aura of evil.

We were already prepared for combat, and so Trask peeked beneath the silk and launched a fireball into the room. As soon as it detonated we charged into the room and launched our attack.

Oddly enough the lady appeared to have been unscathed by the fireball, and called out to us to join her. We did, but not in the way she intended.

This was indeed Lucrecia, and we were determined that she should meet her end there and then. And yet the battle did not go entirely our way. Like Xunesia before her, Lucrecia was a Lamia Matriarch, and her touch drained will power from her foes, and she attacked viciously with a deadly skill to devastating effect.

And yet we were getting the best of her when she launched a lightening bolt at Avia and fled out the door and up a corridor. Unfortunately for her all of our fighters had been Hasted by Sabin, and Nolin chased after her (having been given Desna’s Blessing from Kane just a moment before), striking her dead at the foot of the stairway at the end of the hallway.

We have hauled her corpse back into her chamber and are searching about for clues or items that might aid us in taking the fort. The seriously injured are being healed, and we are doing what we can to restore the lost willpower for those afflicted by Lucrecia’s touch.

I must say that I am rather disappointed in how little our two rangers aided us in battle. Both Jakardros and Vale hung back safely in the corridor until the battle was practically won before springing forth to help. I certainly hope they fare better with the ogres.

== Fireday, Calistril 28, 4708; Ogrekin Farm Stead; Afternoon ==

Mammy’s demise did nothing to curb the stench wafting off her bloated sack of a body, and so we hastily searched her boudoir for any hidden treasures. We found two desiccated bodies in a pair of coffins, but little more.

To the east a door opened to Mammy’s personal latrine. We gagged at the offensive odors assaulting us from within, but Mammy herself was hardly less foul, and so we were well conditioned to endure the toxic vapors within.

I declined to look for myself, but Rigel reported that there were three pits: two used as expected, and one filled with the corpses and bones of tiny little ogrekin.

Avia detected an evil presence directly beneath the floor, but search as we may, we found no secret access below.

Back into the hall we found a plundered storage room behind west door. The door across the hallway was trapped, and in attempting to disable it a large metal spike crashed through the door, pinning it shut. We decided to save this room for later.

To the north was a bedroom with more humanoid fetishes hanging from the ceiling. A pile of sewage glistened in one corner, and a lumpy mattress filled with twigs and other vegetative matter lay in the center of the floor.

Avia detected an evil presence to the east, and so we returned to the hallway where she used her mighty strength to shove open the door.

It was a dining room fit for the ogrekin. Rotting flesh was draped over the serving platters along with gelatinous lumps of quivering, rancid fat. I believe at this point my brain began to refuse all stimuli coming from my nose, which would come in handy a little later on.

The chairs were adorned with bleached human skulls, and upon the table was laid a cloth of human leather.

Two doors lined the eastern wall, with the one to the south trapped in the same fashion as the one through which we entered.

The northern door opened onto an ogrekin nursery, complete with two young ogrekin children. Toys carved of wood (or bone) were strewn about the place along with the bodies of hapless woodland animals. The walls were smeared with finger paintings done in blood and other disgusting bodily fluids. Low bookshelves were lined with skulls.

We killed the ogrekin larvae and searched the room, finding a jade ring still on the finger of a severed hand.

[258] jade ring

Rigel disabled the trap on the other eastern door of the dining room and we entered the kitchen.

Sabin and Trask immediately ran to the windows and puked.

Gore, blood and body parts (mostly human) were piled in baskets, draped across counter tops, and piled in corners. This grisly fare had been left out for quite some time and the smell was truly horrific.

It was not my first encounter with those who feast on necrotic human flesh, but I wondered at Rigel’s apparent indifference to the carnage. Perhaps she too has some dark story from her past that has hardened her heart to such atrocities. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.

Rigel found a stairway leading down, and we called over to the rest of our team and continued our exploration in the cellar.

A dark, dank and moldy stairway took us down west to a short hall with doors to the north, west and south. The terrible stench from the kitchen was replaced with the smell of damp rotting wood and something else… something vile.

To the north was a large room with a couple of large tables. It was used for skinning the ogrekin captives, and I need not provide details of what lie within.

To the west was a large room filled with household clutter: most of it broken and discarded.

To the south was another ogrekin: this one limping about and chatting to its enormous pet rat — I’m not certain, but I may have heard it softly utter “Mr. Whiskers” in a disturbingly affectionate tone. Needless to say the same fate befell the ogrekin and Mr. Whiskers as befell Mammy.

While large, this room was mostly empty and unexceptional, which made us all wonder why it warranted a guard. Of course that’s when we noticed the large set of double doors in the southwest corner. And these doors opened into a wide hallway that ended in another set of double doors.

And through these double doors was… a swamp, of sorts. Thick masses of slimy vegetation and sickly green mosses covered the walls and grew in thickets upon the floor. A nasty smell, like a compost heap gone bad, wafted in on the steamy air.

We all had bad feelings about this room, and with discretion being the better part of valor, we had Trask launch a fireball into the center of the room.

Something huge, unpleasant, and angry rose up from the heaps of plant matter in the room and shambled over toward the doorway. Another fireball later and a lot of hacking on the thing, and it slumped to the floor and stopped moving.

We heard shouts from the far side of the room, and shoving the dead muck monster out of the way we found four people, three of whom had been slashing at the thing from its back side.

Three of our allies were rangers from Fort Rannick! Jakardros, who was the leader of the Black Arrows, Vale and Kaven were out on patrol when a well organized band of ogres attacked the fort and killed all within. The patrol had been captured and brought here for Mammy and her kin to hold captive (and apparently eat).

The forth was a monk named Derrel. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it was he who broke down the door from their cell, which had been weakened by the fireballs, and led the flanking attack on the swamp creature.

After some much needed healing we led the rescued up and out front, where Shalelu and our bear friend were standing guard. There, much to out surprise, Jakardros broke down in tears. It seems he and she are related, and there was a great deal of emotion at their meeting.

The rest of us returned to the house to explore the second floor, and Derrel accompanied us to search for his stoeln gear. There was a hallway at the top of the stairs with a door on either side.

The east door opened onto an attic storage space with tables, flasks, beakers and bric-a-brac. Derrel found his gear stashed on a shelf, and we found a few items worth keeping.

[259] 5 flasks of acid (one used later)
[260] 3 sets of masterwork thieves tools

Behind the west door was a large bedroom with seven, filthy beds lining the walls. Based on the lack of sanitation and the abundance of smells we assumed more ogrekin slept here.

A cedar chest in one corner held a sack of coins, which when Rigel lifted it out she was hit by a nasty razor that had been dipped in spider venom.

23 gp
110 sp
121 cp

Back outside we caught the end of a heated discussion between Jakardros and Shalelu, with him huffing, “You can be just like your mother.”

Leaving them to work out their family issues we approached the barn, with Derrel once again joining us. The doors were unlocked and within we found… well the inside of a barn suffering from neglect.

Catwalks ran along the upper half of the north and south walls, beneath which were dog kennels (no doubt for the ill fated Rukus and his equally ill fated hounds), while piles of hay rotted in the corners. A wall ran across the width of the barn about two thirds the way in, with a large set of double doors barred by large timbers.

Three ogrekin were lounging within, and Trask managed to confuse them momentarily by asking why they didn’t come in when they heard Mammy calling. Dumb-struck they replied, “When we hears Mammy callin’ like that we knows to stay away.”

I discovered that a hold person spell was wonderfully effective on ogrekin, and shared this information with the rest of the team. Soon there were three fewer of Mammy’s brood left to bother the world.

We unbarred the double doors, but they were blocked shut from the other side. Taking to the catwalks we quickly made our way to the smaller doors above, and entered the back section of the barn.

There, in the dim dusty light from the gaps between the boards that clad the barn walls, we beheld a giant spider web. Its sickly opalescent threads as thick as twine were woven into a great twisting funnel that led down into the shadows below.

We could make out the forms of men hanging by manacles in a large rusted cage in the southwest corner, and a similar cage, empty, on the opposite side.

I actually like spiders, and find their industry and skill at weaving the most amazing patterns out of delicate strands of self spun silk a marvel. But this was something else; this was an unnatural corruption of nature and altogether repulsive.

Our first concern was rescuing the men in the cage, and as we made our way along the catwalks, the guardian of this silken fortress sprang forth and attacked.

It was a great wicked thing, with wicked malice peering out from its multiple sets of eyes clustered upon its grotesque head. Great fangs hung down from beneath a set of pincher like mandibles, and its jointed legs hideously clicked and popped as it clambered about the web, dragging its oversize filthy grey bag of an abdomen behind.

The battle was sharp and intense, and Derrel was poisoned with a jab from the spider’s fangs, but in the end we triumphed and then thing dropped to the ground with its legs curled up beneath it.

We rushed over to aid the men in the cage only to find that they were long dead.

Rigel and I climbed down the spider’s funnel and verified that the beast was truly dead. While down there we found a chest that contained a number of useful and valuable items.

[261] An agate studded gold ring
[262] Silver necklace of emeralds
[263] +2 DEX leather gloves
[264] Sack of coins: 210 gp, 452 sp, 108 cp
[265] Ruby inlaid red dragon scale cloak clasp
[266] +1 Shocking Elvish long-bow (this was returned to Jakardros)

We are preparing to return to Turtleback Ferry, where we need to obtain an anti-venom for the spider’s poison coursing through Rigel and Derrel’s veins.

We must also think of what to do about the ogre invasion of Fort Rannick. While were hired by the Mayor of Magnimar to find out what happened to the Black Arrows, which we certainly have done, should we do something about the ogres?

Jakardros said these ogres appear to have been well organized, which is unusual for ogres. I dislike how soon the ogre invasion took place after the disappearance of Lucretia, proprietress of the now burned and sunk Paradise, and her association with the sihedron.

I can think of one beautiful and powerful woman also associated with the sihedron symbol from our very recent past. This woman turned out to be no woman at all, but a lamia matriarch. And as a follower of Pharasma I know well their origin, shape, and penchant for chaotic schemes of ruination and destruction.

I think this is no coincidence.

But we have one more task before we return to town: we are to set flame to this blasphemous farm stead.

== Moonday, Abadius 6, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

This group appears to be a little disorganized, or perhaps it is their grief over their fallen comrade that makes them so unobservant of those around them.

I have watched them come and go from the common room of The Copper Griffin for much of the afternoon and learned a bit about each of them.

There are two fighters, muscular and well equipped, who seem all business with dour expressions and few words — all of them direct and to the point. They seem like lawful types, and the woman is probably a paladin. I take it from what little conversation of theirs I’ve overheard that the man was once a member of the Magnimar guard, but the background of the other is uncertain.

A very young man is a ranger or a spell caster, and this one is very talkative. Too talkative. Every thought that passes through his head seems to leap from his tongue as if escaping the cluttered and claustrophobic place of its birth. Or maybe this is but an act to put others off their guard.

And then there is the odd couple: a halfling and a small human woman. The two are inseparable and seem to have the same grace and furtive movements as Cyrith of the light fingers and dubious morals. The halfling seems very concerned about the safety of the woman, and hovers about her like a fruit fly about an over ripe peach. Maybe she is pregnant with his child?

I have met few half orcs in my travels, and none so friendly and talkative as Sabin. Or it might have been the large amount of drink he had consumed before staggering over to my table. Heavy with drink or not, he was still guarded in his conversation, and while he was willing to discuss adventuring in general, he shared nothing specific about the rest of his party or what they have been doing. He appears to be a rare blend of warrior and magic user.

I will continue my visits to the inn until either Sabin introduces me to his companions, or there is a good opportunity to introduce myself.

Watch and wait.
== Fireday, Abadius 17, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

I have finally been introduced to the entire party, although it came about in a rather haphazard way.

Sabin and I were quietly talking at our usual table when several of his friends came over and sat down. The young man, Trask (definitely a spell caster) has started training and had a lot to share about it. Quite a lot. And before I knew it the entire group was gathered around listening to Trask while eyeing me with curiosity and suspicion.

As Trask showed no sign of slowing down, Sabin, Nolin (the warrior) and I went over to another, quieter table to talk business. We exchanged stories about our respective encounters with Xaneesha and her cult, and I learned that they had lost their primary healer in their assault on the Shadow Clock.

Their loss was certainly to my benefit as I specialized in healing and other clerical matters.

It turns out that the party had formed in an impromptu manner only six months before to deal with some unpleasantness in the coastal town of Sandpoint. They share their profits evenly among themselves, which is a pleasant change from the usual arrangement.

The paladin is Avia; the halfling is Kane, who is actually a healer; and Rigel serves as the party’s expert treasure hunter.

They were interested in my story of the cultists and my group’s failed trip to the saw mill, and said they would contact me later if they were interested in my services.

No doubt they would check out as much of my story as possible, although little enough of it is public knowledge.

No matter, I will continue my evening meetings with Sabin for friendship sake alone.

Watch and wait.

== Sunday, Abadius 19, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

The group has decided to use my services, but for the time being there is little for us to do.

Neither they, nor I, nor my Irregulars have heard anything unusual that could be attributed to Xaneesha or her cultists.

Could it be that my new found friends had actually destroyed Xaneesha without realizing it, or is she is biding her time before acting again?

Nothing split seven ways is nothing, and while my daily expenses are small, they do exist, and my gold reserves are slowly dwindling.

Watch and wait.

== Toilday, Calistril 11, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

We gathered again this evening because the Lord Mayor has hired us (300 gold pieces each in advance!) for a special job.

A town to the north, Turtleback Ferry, had been having trouble with a number of ogres and their ilk and had requested aid from the nearby cities. Magnimar had been the only one to respond and sent a troupe of rangers, the Order of the Black Arrows, to set up an outpost there and deal with the problem.

Things had gone well for some time, with regular reports arriving weekly from their headquarters at Fort Rannick. But the reports stopped coming and were now long overdue, and the Mayor was concerned over the safety of his rangers.

We were to travel up to Turtleback Ferry and investigate.

Trask still has a week’s worth of training, but the rest of us will prepare for the trip and we will leave on the 18th.

== Wealday, Calistril 12, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

We had a small surprise this afternoon. We were gathered together in the The Copper Griffin’s common room when an elf clad as a ranger came over and asked to come along on our trip to Turtleback Ferry.

Her name is Shalelu, and my companions all knew her, but it became much colder at Rigel’s end of the table, and I noticed her glaring at the elf. At first I thought this must be some former lover of Kane’s, but Trask rather gleefully asked about someone named Sedgewick, whom apparently rather abruptly left the party (in general) and Rigel (in particular) to run off with Shalelu months before.

Shalelu is familiar with the way to Turtleback Ferry, which will prove useful, and so quite naturally we all voted for her to come along (with Rigel abstaining).

== Moonday, Calistril 17, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

We leave on the morrow and I spent part of the week rounding up each of the Irregulars. I gave each a gold piece with the caution that it might be the last payment they receive from me for quite some time.

Most of them are street savvy and wise for their ages, but for some of the youngest ones I made sure they had an older companion to look out for their interests while I was away.

The most talented of my band of spies, an eleven year old girl who answers to Atuni, I have left with an organization with whom she can build a future. I have paid for her tuition and boarding for a full year, and have little doubt she will be more than able to earn her own way beyond that should I not return.

== Toilday, Calistril 18, 4708; The Lost Coast Road; Evening ==

Finally, we are on the coast road not far from Sandpoint. We have been riding steadily all day long and hope to complete our journey in 10 days or less.

The conversation around the small camp fire turned to encounters on previous trips along this same road. On one such trek they saw a huge black winged horse, known locally as the Sandpoint Devil, leap into the sky. On another a group of gigantic lizards attacked them.

They also discussed some haunted mansion to the west of here called “The Misgivings”, where apparently they still had unfinished business of which they spoke with dread.

We’ve set the schedule for the watch that we will follow for the remainder of the trip. I share the third watch with Nolin.

It will be a cold night.

== Oathday, Calistril 20, 4708; Nybor; Evening ==

We arrived in Nybor after dark. The trip has thus far been uneventful, which is hardly to be surprised with such a large group of well arrayed travellers, each mounted on his or her own war horse.

The town is small and it is hard to tell much about it in the dark, but they have an inn with four rooms for us to share, and a hot meal is waiting.

== Fireday, Calistril 21, 4708; The Sanos Forest; Evening ==

Nybor must be a picturesque town, perched on the southern most shores of the Ember Lake, and the western end of the Sanos Forest, but we left before dawn and so its charms remained masked by the darkness.

We crossed the river on town ferry, which is guided by one set of ropes and is pulled across by another. It took two crossings to get all of us and our horses over, and from there the trail immediately plunged into the dim forest.

Shalelu said the trail was safe enough, as long as you harbored no ill will towards gnomes. We saw a few gnomes at the inn, but we will be passing to the east of a large gnome settlement on our way through the Sanos. I have met many gnomes and get along with them as well as any other race, although I admit to chuckling out loud when I remember poor Og’s comment, “They taste like chicken!” I’m fairly sure he was joking.

It made for a nice change to move through the forest, and the soft earth trail covered by a cushion of leaves and needles has met with the approval of our steeds.

It is oddly quiet, but more in a muffled sort of way than disturbing.

Thick clouds rolled in after lunch, but it does not feel like rain. Darkness came early beneath the canopy, and we were forced to make camp before our usual time. We are mindful of the forest, and our camp fire is quite small compared with the blazes from our previous evenings on the road.

== Starday, Calistril 22, 4708; The Sanos Forest; Evening ==

A giant snake attacked our camp last night during Nolin’s and my watch, but we quickly dispatched it; and I spent the rest of our watch butchering the animal and smoking its flesh over the fire. Snake is tasty, and there is enough here to last us for a long while.

The day itself passed without event, or a glimpse of the sun for that matter, but other than a few hesitant drops, it has remained dry.

== Oathday, Calistril 27, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Evening ==

The cold rain began overnight, and we quickly broke camp and continued along the path. The forest soon gave way to an open but boggy woodlands, and not long after that we came to the end of the trees altogether. A long sliver of marshy ground, the Shimmerglens, stretches from Coal Lake to the north down nearly all of the way to Lake Syrantula. The Skull River flows through the middle of this land of fens, connecting the two lakes.

The rain renewed its assault with vigor, and travel by horseback would have proven all but impossible but for the most remarkable of structures: a boardwalk, aptly named “The Wicker Way”, which connected the Old Sanos Way to the small hamlet of Bitter Hollow on the river.

There is little to commend about Bitter Hollow, other than the strong will of its people, who built and maintained the passage over the marsh. But the town is filthy, as if all of the industry of its citizens was expended upon the Wicker Way, leaving none for cleaning.

We paused briefly to barter our smoke snake meat for some supplies at The Gator’s Nest, and pushed on through the wet and gathering gloom.

We were thoroughly soaked by the time we rode into Turtleback Ferry and sought refuge at the town’s only inn, The Turtle’s Parlor.

We queried the inn keeper about the rangers at For Rannick. He said the fort was thirty miles up the river, and the that rangers mostly kept to themselves, but came into town on a regular basis. It had been at least two weeks since their last visit, which he admitted was unusual.

== Fireday, Calistril 28, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Morning ==

After a comfortable night spent in the common room next to the large hearth we purchased more provisions for the trek north. As the inn keeper bustled about, Trask noticed a small tattoo on the innkeeper that looked like a sihedron.

We carefully looked at the other people milling about, and noticed another man with the same tattoo.

I mentioned the tattoo to the innkeeper, and he was reluctant to talk about it, but with a little encouragement he told us a disturbing story.

A while back a large boat showed up on the lake, run by an elegant lady who offered various forms of entertainment like gambling, drinking and whoring. The quality of services offered by Lucretia on the Paradise were well above average, and each evening the boat would dock at Turtleback Ferry, take on its load of eager customers, and then sail out into the lake until the wee hours of the morning.

Regular customers were offered the seven rayed star tattoo, which would give them discounts on board the Paradise.

A few weeks ago the entire boat with a full load of customers caught fire and sank into the murky waters of the lake — a lake filled with ferocious predators that prevented escape or any sort of investigation of the sunken wreck.

We none of us liked this news. There is too much coincidence here: the sihedron symbol associated with a beautiful and powerful woman — just as in Magnimar.

== Fireday, Calistril 28, 4708; Ogrekin Farm Stead; Noon ==

The rain resumed its steady assault as we followed the road north and back over the river. We caught glimpses of the very southern tip of The Storval Deep, on the far northern shores of which my clan has made many a camp.

The rain slowed and then stopped as ragged clouds parted to reveal a few patches of blue. The tips of mountain peaks peeped over the tops of the trees, but as we moved north the forest closed in, limiting our view to a hundred yards in any direction.

Shalelu lead the way, but it was Kane and Rigel who heard the muffled cries of an animal in pain. Rigel crept through the undergrowth and came upon a bear with its leg caught in a steel trap. It saw Rigel and let out a whimper, like a dog. The rest of us gathered around, and when Rigel released the trap the bear lavished her face with wet sloppy kisses.

Obviously this was a companion to someone… probably a ranger. I healed the bear’s wound as we heard the approaching sound of dogs baying. We moved forward into a small clearing when the pack of dogs burst through the shrubs and attacked.

The dogs were quickly killed, but a loud humanoid came crashing into the clearing where it stopped and stared at us. It wiped the drool from its chin before shouting out, “I is hunting that bear, so unless you wants to be hunted too you better stay clear.”

It looked like a small, deformed ogre — an ogrekin: the misbegotten offspring of an ogre and some poor captive. It then noticed the slain dogs laying about and burst into tears sobbing, “My dogs! My dogs!”

Trask was able to talk it into surrendering its spear (a very nice weapon), and then got it to tell us about where it came from. It, or he, said his name was Rukus, and he lived with his “mammy” and siblings a ways further on. He got his spear from the humans that his family had caught “and killed and et.”

He then showed us a blanket he carried that his mammy made, and Shalelu gasped: it was made from a collection of Black Arrows emblems!

We sent Rigel and Avia ahead to explore, and another ogrekin attacked them, but they made short work of it. They continued on until they caught sight of a farm-stead — a house and a barn — a mile or so from our clearing.

[244] +1 ogre hook
[245] iron ring of +1 protection (Avia)
[246] amulet of +1 natural armor (Nolin)
[247] +1 spear
[248] belt of +2 strength (Nolin)

Rukus was sent along to meet his brother in ogrekin heaven, and quietly we made our way to the small settlement. It was all in a ruinous state of disrepair and unpleasant smells wafted out from both buildings. Sad patches of crops could still be seen amidst the riot of weeds, but they were all wilted and dying.

Small human fetishes, made from sticks and bits of fabric and stuffed with mud and human hair, were set out about the path that led up to the house.

We opted to check out the house first, reasoning the ogrekin would be more comfortable in the barn and might use the house to keep prisoners. The windows on the first floor were boarded up, and there was a wide porch up front and a rickety set of stairs leading up.

The porch roof was held aloft by thick pine pillars crudely carved to depict gruesome things: manticores impaling children, wolves devouring women, and other obscenities. A large rocking chair made from various body parts sat off to one side while a wind chime of human bones clattered in the breeze.

Kane, Avia and Sabin climbed onto the porch and listened for a while, but all was quiet within. Sabin then opened the door, and as he did spikes shot out from the wind chimes as blades cut up through the floor boards, slashing the trio. I was surprised that Rigel had not gone up to check for traps, but apparently Kane has some skill in this area, but had simply forgot.

After a small amount of healing Rigel and I went into the house and the others followed, although Shalelu and the bear remained outside. It stank within. Really badly. The interior decor matched the exterior: a dire beg pelt lay on the floor before a large couch made from all sorts of disgusting things.

Avia detected an evil presence to the left, and so we checked the only other door for traps. The door opened to a large hallway that continued north, and branched to the left, with various closed doors on either side. Rigel did the usual for the door to the left, and Avia burst into the room.

A giant bed took up much of the space, and laying upon it was a gross, bloated ogrekin, with layers of fat rolling down from its head in waves, and pustules that wept greasy yellow excretions. Atop its head were thin lank locks of oily hair, and it opened its jowly mouth and shrieked for its offspring to come to its aid.

There was little doubt we had found mammy.

Keeping her company was a triplet of ogrekin, each boasting some horrific deformity, but all undead. They pressed the physical attack while surprisingly mammy launched devastating magical attacks that sapped abilities. Rigel moved in with her bow and began to shoot things at point blank range with good results.

Avia took the brunt of the spell effects, but still managed to cut through one of the undead ogrekin. Sabin also joined in the action, and I wiggled into the room to channel energy against the surviving two undead, which were quickly destroyed.

Mammy was of sterner stuff, and things may have gone worse had Sabin not touched her with an Enfeeblement spell, rendering her mostly impotent, and eventually dead.

This place makes me want to vomit: there are coffins in the north side of this room containing the remains of who knows what, and the stench is truly awful.

But we must find out what happened to the rangers, and so we press on.

[249] masterwork quarter staff
[250] potion of Cure Moderate Wounds
[251] scroll of Animate Dead
[252] wand of level 3 magic missile [43 charges]
[253] wand of Enfeeblement [27 charges]
[254] wand of vampiric touch [33 charges]
[255] belt of +2 constitution
[256-257] Varisian dolls [used when summoning creatures for extra HD]

== Wealday, Kuthona 18, 4707; Magnimar, Kyver’s Islet; Afternoon ==

Having followed up on the contact information for payments to “B7” from Aldrin Foxglove we have found ourselves in a lumber mill called “The Seven” on Kyver’s Islet in the south of Magnimar. We’ve overcome attacks from the evil masked workmen there only to find ourselves in custody of one of the chief justices for the city itself, Ironbriar.

Avia had detected an evil presence in the room where Ironbriar was found alone and cloaked with invisibility. He was no longer radiating an evil aura by then, but we did detect two spells had been cast upon him — an enchantment and an abjuration. The latter could have been the result of his hiding his alignment.

And while Ironbriar did attack us at first, when the enchantment spell was removed he calmed down a great deal and became informative and almost helpful.

He claimed he had been enchanted by an evil enchantress named Xanesha, and that it was she who was responsible for the series of ritual murders that had plagued Magnimar for these past months. He admitted that he had played some part in the grizzly killings, but only while under Xanesha’s control. He was angry with Xanesha and wished her killed, but knew his influence and power in Magnimar was compromised, and he wished to leave the city as quickly as could be arranged.

Avia was dubious of his most of his claims, and thought the two best courses of action were to either hand him over to the city officials, or execute him ourselves.

The problem with the first proposal was that Ironbriar was the head of the city’s judicial system, and it was unlikely that our word would be taken over his. And the second proposal assumed his guilt with only the circumstantial evidence we possessed.

And yet to me he seemed to be telling the truth, or as much of the truth as concerned us. I spoke long with him about his faith, and found that he was a follower of Norgorber, which would indicate he probably did have an evil aura when not masked by magic. Followers of Norgorber are split among various factions, each following some specific aspect of their evil god and mostly ignoring one another. It made little sense for a career politician, of which Ironbriar was certainly one, to work toward destroying the very fabric of society from which he derived his power.

Ironbriar promised that if we let him go he would take care of the cultists (both dead and alive) that remained in the mill, and leave the city within twelve hours — just long enough to take care of some personal matters and provide an official reason for his extended absence from Magnimar.

He said if we allowed him this, he would provide us with information about Xanesha that we could use to find and eliminate her. Furthermore once he was safe and established in a new location he would send a reward back to us, as well as check up on our progress with Xanesha.

We debated his offer long among ourselves, and finally agreed providing that Ironbriar allowed Sabin and Trask to accompany him until we received the promised information. To this he acquiesced, using the cover of hiring the two as body guards to explain their sudden and constant presence in his company.

Unknown to Ironbriar, Kane and Rigel provided support for Sabin and Trask by using their stealthy skills to follow Ironbriar, and to make sure there was no obvious attempts at treachery.

They left for Ironbriar’s house a short while ago, and we are about to leave the mill ourselves. We gave Ironbriar the name of the inn at which we had been staying, but we plan to move to different part of town today. We will keep one room at the old inn for future correspondences with Ironbriar.

== Oathday, Kuthona 19, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Midnight ==

Kane arrived at our new inn just after midnight with news that Ironbriar was leaving the city via one of the southern gates. Task and Sabin were still with him and Rigel was tailing them.

As we quickly walked to catch up (at a discrete distance) can told us that Ironbriar had immediately gone from the mill to his grand house in the swanky Alabaster District, where he proceeded to send letters to various associates about town. He had been cordial to his two guests, even inviting them to share in his dinner, and hid nothing obvious from them. In fact at one point he apparently offered both long term employment, which they both declined.

Rigel caused a bit of commotion by sneaking into the house and setting off an alarm of some kind, but if he was suspicious of our party, he did not show it.

Shortly after midnight he changed into traveling clothes and left for the south of the city.

We ran into Sabin and Trask on their way back from seeing Ironbriar leave the city on foot. At the gate he had told them what he knew of Xanesha.

She had set up her headquarters in the ruinous structure known as the Shadow Clock. This tower was built in the Shadow district of Magnimar, an unsavory part of the city that resided completely beneath the ancient ruins of the Irespan.

The Irespan is nothing short of a massive bridge, perhaps built by or for a race of giants, that stretched westward over the bay from Magnimar. Everything about it is massive, although now all that remains of it is its eastern terminus. And yet even this tiny fragment is so large that it dwarfs all other structures on this side of the continent, and it covers an entire district of what is by no means a small city.

The name of the Shadow District itself may have its origins by being in the shadow of the Irespan, but it now reflects the nature of its businesses and inhabitants.

The Shadow Clock is a tall tower that was built many years ago to house a clock, but it was never completed and it has fallen into neglected decay. It is considered structurally unsafe, and the city has closed it off from the public.

Ironbriar said that Xanesha lived there with five “misshapen” men to do her bidding, and that it was she that taught him the vile sihedron ritual used in the murders.

She had also sent Aldrin to Foxglove Manor to collect the evil fungus that grew there, knowing full well what it would do to him.

Ironbriar also told us that Aldrin’s payments to the sawmill were for hush money to keep hidden the fact that he had murdered his fiance, Iesha.

We returned to the inn and briefly discussed our plan of action. Although Ironbriar saw to it that his departure from the city would not draw any undue attention, at least for a while, it would be obvious to Xanesha that he was no longer under her thumb. We decided to wait a couple of weeks before making our move against her in the hopes that she will have once again relaxed her guard.

This would also give time for Avia, Sabin, Kane and Rigel to train.

Trask, Nolin and I plan to make a short trip out from the city after sunrise to see if we can find a trace of where Ironbriar has gone.

== Oathday, Kuthona 19, 4707; Yondabakari River Valley; Evening ==

We set out on horse back as soon as it was light, leaving Magnimar by the southern gate and following the likely route used by Ironbriar. Despite the overcast sky and chill air our trip was at first pleasant as we traveled next to the Yondabakari flowing within the banks of its wide valley.

Small farms and hamlets lay on either side of the river with their fallow fields and prickly orchards of bare trees. Inns also lined the road, and after a pleasant break for lunch in one such pub we continued on.

The sun slowly wheeled around behind us and cast long shadows on the road ahead. Inns ceased, farms came further and further apart, and the number of people we passed on the road dwindled to a few hearty souls before petering out altogether.

The next village was an hour or more ahead and grey sky darkening with the fading light as we debated whether to push on to the comforts of a night indoors or find a suitable camp site near the road.

The road had dipped into a boggy stretch of land and was just beginning to rise back up again when we came upon three large mounds of mud and clay.

A grotesque toad-like head rose up from behind one mound and stared at us with protruding eyes. As we approached to investigate three slimey green creatures lept up onto the mounds and waved spiked clubs threateningly at us.

Boggards!

As a child my guardians had told us stories of the evil frog-like men who haunted the swamp lands, capturing and eating unwary travelers. I had thought these tales told to keep restless youth from straying far from the farm, but here they were in the flesh (warts and all) menacing my friends and I.

No doubt they thought we were farmers on the road at dusk hurrying to our home and fields and ill prepared to meet any attack. They thought wrong and were quickly slain.

Alas, but we found the remains of several hapless travelers on whom the boggards had feasted earlier. Little remained but 20 pieces of gold and a few basic weapons.

We wound up pushing on to the village and reserved a nice set of rooms for the evening. We had missed the usual evening sitting in the dinning room, but after hearing about our victorious encounter with the boggards the inn keeper was happy to stoke the kitchen fire and prepare a delightful late supper for us.

== Fireday, Kuthona 20, 4707; Yondabakari River Valley; Evening ==

An altogether uneventful day. We continued along the undulating road as it passed through a land of low hills which fell away to the south into a wide expanse of marsh.

By chance this evening we encountered a small caravan from Wartle heading towards Magnimar and we all agreed to share camp. They had seen nobody on the road matching Ironbriar’s description, which confirmed our suspicion that while he may have set out as a lowly traveler on foot, Ironbriar was a man of too many resources to remain so for long.

Our companions are a lively group, and we are all gathered about a small but bright peat fire which is keeping the fog from the swamplands at bay. While in stark contrast to the night before, our evening has proven to be no less accommodating.

== Starday, Kuthona 21, 4707; Yondabakari River Valley; Evening ==

A soft but prolonged drizzle started late in the night and we broke our sodden camp just before dawn. Being lightly burdened we left caravan behind as kept a brisk pace, and rode long until after dusk. We are but a few hours from Magnimar, but there is no urgent need for our return and the horses have earned a rest in a dry tall with hay and fresh water.

To be honest I too am glad to have a place to sleep indoors out of the persistent cold mist that followed us all day.

== Sunday, Kuthona 22, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

We returned to Magnimar by mid day and Nolin has has decided that he too should hone his skills and sharpen his abilities before our encounter with Xanesha, leaving Trask and I to fend for ourselves.

We decided to reconnoiter the area about the Shadow Clock tomorrow.

== Moonday, Kuthona 23, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

Like virtually all residents of Magnimar, I have seen the Irespan, and have even approached the top as close as city officials allow the public. But I have never before been at the feet of this cyclopean structure, and I must admit that it takes some getting used to. I walked about looking up and gaping like a yocal from the sticks who has wandered into a city for the first time.

The locals who we passed were completely oblivious to the thing under which they spent their lives. We followed their example and plunged deeper in the the Shadow District with eyes level. We kept a short distance apart, with me in the lead, but still close enough to rush to one another’s aid if needed.

The day was already dim with cloud cover, and it was like walking into twilight as we passed under the shadow of the bridge and made our way to the massive support near which the Shadow Clock had been built.

Had it been completed the Clock could have been a local wonder to lift the district up and above the unsavory reputation it now held. Now, however, it simply served to reinforce the feeling of sinister doings, secrets, and decay and ruin that permeated the area.

With a square base about sixty feet on a side the tower lumbers up on itself some one hundred and eighty feet, gently narrowing with its rise until it is capped by an ornate belfry. A large clock face frozen at three o’clock glares down upon passerby and the figure of an angel perches atop it all.

But it is all a ruin. The mortar between the stone and brick crumbles, the wood is gray and warped with age, and the windows gape out with no glazing. In some places metal framework pokes out from the ruptured skin of the building, and near the top on one side a teetering mass of scaffolding, itself now derelict, fights a losing battle to keep the structure from toppling down upon the business and residences that surround it.

We spent some time walking about the Clock, taking side streets and alleys so as not to be obvious in our intent, but saw nobody approach the tower, nor indeed pay any more attention to it than they did the bridge above.

Trask and I returned to the inn where we compared notes and drew a few diagrams and maps. We had seen no other entrance at ground level than the heavy doors which had been chained and locked by city officials, but it seemed like that was as good an approach as any.

The rest of the day began to weigh heavily on me and so I found father Tyrion at the Temple of Sarenrae and volunteered to help out with the local outreach programs that aided the less fortunate citizens of the city.

== Fireday, Kuthona 27, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

Sabin and Kane have completed their training.

== Wealday, Abadius 1, 4708; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Morning ==

It is New Year’s Day! There was a midnight ceremony at the Temple of Sarenrae in which I participated, just as last year. I cannot help but to reflect back upon the old year and all the changes it brought.

== Fireday, Abadius 3, 4708; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

Avia returned to the inn looking confident and ready to resume the hunt for Xanesha. Rigel also returned from training, but is often the case with her we did not notice her arrival so much as we simply became aware that she was once again with us.

When we returned to our old inn for our daily check of message from Ironbriar we found a cloaked man waiting for us in the common room. Without exchanging any names or details we informed him that we were following the advice of our common friend and being cautious about tying up a certain “loose end.” We told him we ought to have more to report in two weeks time.

He stated that the parcel beneath the table was for us, and got up and walked out.

After the usual checking for traps and magical devices we took the box up to our room and opened it. Within were seven small bars of gold — each worth five hundred gold pieces.

This was more awkward for some of us than others, but I know that what is not immediately spent defeating Xanesha from my share — for I view the gold as payment in advance for services to be rendered — will go toward the local charities the Temple of Sarenrae supports.

== Sunday, Abadius 5, 4708; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

There was another ritualized murder last night. While rumor of the killing swept through the city in the usual way, we sought out our contacts in the town guars to glean additional information.

The more than two weeks since the previous killing was the longest interval between any two killings since they began — typically there was a murder every few days. We could not help but connect this to our activities at Aldrin’s townhouse some two weeks earlier and Ironbriar’s departure from the city.

We found Nolin, and although he had a week of training left he agreed that we could not delay our investigations while the murder spree continued.

== Moonday, Abadius 6, 4708; Magnimar, Shadow District; Dawn ==

Well before dawn we made our way to the Shadow District and approached the doors enmasse. Our plan was to simply walk up to the doors, disarm any traps, unlock any locks, and then move inside as if we were authorized to do so. It seemed likely that any attempt at a covert operation in this shady district would generate more notice (and possible interference) than a direct approach.

Our plan worked and soon we were inside. But the interior of the clock, while perhaps fascinating to an architect or builder, sadly dissapointed us.

From within the Shadow Clock looked more decrepit and tumble down than even its ruinous appearance from the outside indicated. It was a single, massive chamber towering up into the darkness above with no floors or partitions beyond the handful of ramshackle walls leaning against one another along the eastern wall.

Windows were cut into the tower higher up, but the pre-dawn sky still looked inky black from within. We brought out our magical torches and looked about the place in dismay.

The floor was made from stone, and showed no signs of any secret trap doors leading down. A rickety stair led up and up, connecting with the outer walls some fifteen feet up and following them around and around as it spiraled up to the top, which skulked in darkness.

A few piles of rubbish littered the floor here and there, and through the gaping doorways in the eastern interior walls we could see that the ceiling for the rooms had collapsed and they were now open above the the main chamber.

We noticed a large number of foot prints in the dust on the floor leading up the stairs, and checked the stairway very carefully only to find that it was as unstable and unsafe as appearance made it appear.

One door to an interior chamber in the northeast corner was intact and closed, and as I made my way towards it to see what lay within, a huge creature stood up from what I had thought was a pile of refuse and attacked. It looked like someone had stitched together various parts from animals, humans and other creatures into a single nightmarish form. It wielded a scythe with unexpected skill and from a belt around its middle hung an assortment of shrunken heads.

It proved resistant to fire and damage our normal weapons, but Avia switched to using the adamantine sword and was dealing the thing deathly damage. After a fierce battle Sabin finished it off by planting his axe in its face.

[241] +1 scythe (Nolin)
[242] cloak of Elvenkind (Avia)

Beyond the door was yet another room with a collapsed ceiling and nothing more.

Trask and Sabin volunteered to clamber up the rickety stairs to see what was at the top of the tower, and as they began their ascent the rest of us continued to search the base of the tower, uncovering a sack with coins and a few other valuable looking oddments.

125 gold pieces
309 silver pieces
a tarnished silver ring with “To AV, with love” inscribed on it (not magical)
an ornate silver mirror

We heard a loud creaking sound as the stairs complained of their load and threatened to come down. Trask and Sabin came down, and Sabin, who could cast Feather Fall and save himself in the event of an emergency, climbed up alone.

Three times around Sabin ascended the stairs and came to the level where a window was set into each of the four walls. By now the sky was pale, and we could watch his progress in the wan light.

Sabin then paused, as if listening to something above, and all of a sudden there was an incredible cacophony of clanging and clanking as one of the massive tower bells came crashing down. It smashed through the stairs where Sabin was standing and tumbled to the ground, crashing into Trask before coming to rest on its side.

Sabin drifted slowly to the ground and said he had heard someone sawing through the ropes that held the bell just before it came down. We healed him and Trask and were debating our next course of action (a Fireball shot up to the top was momentarily a popular idea) when there came a great banging at the doors.

The entire west end of Magnimar had no doubt heard the frightful noise of the bell, and the City Guard had showed up to investigate.

The chief constable was highly suspicious of our presence at the tower, but we managed to deflect his concerns toward the corpse of the scarecrow monster we had slain. He asked the crowd that had now gathered around the doors if they had seen anything like this in the area before, and one man said he had seen it coming in and out from the tower, and another reported that things could be seen flying in and out from the top of the Clock.

The constable inspected the bell and commented on how it looked like the ropes had been partially cut through some time ago, and then the rest of the way quite recently.

We told him that we wanted to climb the tower to catch whoever it was that dropped the bell on us (and who was no doubt responsible for the strange monster), to which he acquiesced. He set up a watch about the tower to keep and eye on our progress and to see if anything flew in or out while we were scaling the Clock.

We are currently discussing how best to climb up now that the stairs are impassable, and have decided upon some combination of Spider Climb and ropes.

The sun is just now peeping over the horizon although it is still dark beneath the Irespan, and it is time for me to pray. We shall have full need of the spells Sarenrae can grant me this day.

== Starday, Neth 16, 4707; Sandpoint, Mid Morning ==

Our first morning back in Sandpoint went well; and we were quite productive going through the items we had accumulated, and determining what to keep and what to sell. In the end we all have more than enough gold to train, even after tithing and other expenses.

I never thought before that I should be in possession of such sums of gold, but equipment and training for our line of work is expensive, and I am not in jeopardy of becoming wealthy.

Speaking of expenses, I have purchase Nolin’s horse and tack, which he no longer needed now that the splendid war horse he rescued on Thistestop has recovered. I was surprised that Nolin had not named his old horse, and so I gave him one: Leopold Butters Stotch. Butters has proven to be a feisty but reliable mount.

Most of us begin training today, which will keep us busy for some time now.

== Sunday, Neth 24, 4707; Sandpoint, Morning ==

Kane has completed his training and began to investigate the loose threads we unraveled at the Misgivings. I have free time today as well as most evenings, which I will use to help as I am able.

I used a Make Whole spell to repair Vorel’s broken seven sided box — we might have use for it later.

== Sunday, Kuthona 1, 4707; Sandpoint, Evening ==

Kane, Rigel and Avia have left for Magnimar. The rest of us will join them once we have completed training.

We deem the trip necessary for several reasons.

First, the worthies of Sandpoint are either unable or unwilling to provide any information about the Brothers of the Seven — that accursed organization we believe is responsible for the tragic events at the Misgivings, and the grizzly murders around Sandpoint.

Second, we have heard stories from Magnimar that tell of the same sort of killings in Magnimar, complete with the sihedron rune carved on the victims’ chests.

Third, Aldrin returned to Sandpoint from Magnimar, and perhaps he left behind some sort of clue as to the nature of the Brothers, for whom he was working. Also we believe his sisters may still be living there — perhaps they can recall something useful about their family history.

Nolin’s family lives in Magnimar, and he has written a letter of introduction to his parents for Kane and company; thus providing them with a place safe to stay while they familiarize themselves with the great city.

Likewise I have provided a letter of introduction for Avia to take with her to the Temple of Sarenrae, where I was trained.

With luck they will have done much of the initial legwork for this investigation by the time the rest of us arrive.

== Toilday, Kuthona 10, 4707; Sandpoint, Evening ==

We have received a letter from our compatriots in Magnimar, providing us with news of their journey and what they have found thus far in that fair city of ancient ruins. Kane, Rigel and Avia have been gone more than a week, and it was reassuring to hear that they were well and safe as may be.

Their trip was not uneventful, and serves as a reminder for us to be on our guard when we follow their route four days from hence.

Late on their first day they beheld an amazing and horrible sight: they heard and ungodly scream in the distance, and watched as a huge winged horse reared up and flew away. Kane recalled a local legend that circulates up and down the Lost Coast Road about a nightmarish horse that stole cattle and unattended children. We’ve heard the locals refer to it as the Sandpoint Devil, but up until now I had assumed it was a story used to subdue misbehaving children.

The next night they found their camp invaded by hideous goblin snakes, which they managed to kill or drive away with little hurt to themselves.

They arrived in Magnimar on the third of Kuthona, where Nolin’s parents gave them a hearty welcome, and a brief introduction to the layout of the city.

Wasting no time they set out at once to the Marble District, where they thought the likes of a family as old and wealthy as the Foxgloves would live.

After spending a little time (and some gold) with a city bureaucrat they found that Aldrin Foxgloves’ two sisters had moved away some time ago. Far, far away — perhaps they possessed more wisdom than their fool hardy brother.

At an inn in the district they found an old acquaintance of Aldrin’s, who said that Aldrin was up in Sandpoint, but he still kept a a townhouse in the Great Arch District. A few gold coins later and they found themselves before Aldrin’s home away from home.

The ground floor windows were boarded over, and the windows of the other two floors above that showed no signs of life within. A large and unkempt fountain was choked with fallen leaves, which had stained the stagnant water a sickly yellow.

Out back an eight foot wall hid a garden rife with weeds and trees strangled by grasping vines. The gate was barred with boards hastily nailed across the entryway.

They decided to save the closer investigating of the dwelling until the rest of us could join them.

In the meantime they found a place to stay (not wishing to wear out their welcome at Nolin’s parents place), and settled into life in a big city.

One thing they noticed right away was a great civil unrest. The murders, of which we had heard rumor in Sandpoint, were an almost nightly event, with the victims representing a complete cross section of the Magnimar social strata.

The public felt threatened, and felt the city officials were doing little to protect them.

The same said city officials were tight lipped about the entire affair, and our friends could find little information about the murder spree, other than the each victim had had a sihedron carved in their chest, the same as the victims in Sandpoint.

== Starday, Kuthona 14, 4707; The Lost Coast Road, Evening ==

Ah, to be back on the road again! It is a marvelous thing, despite the toil or dread ahead: for the road represents a fresh start, a new place, and more than just a hint of adventure.

True, we are but heading back to the place from where I set out on this grand adventure some five months before, but still I find my spirits lifted all the same.

Whereas on my earlier journey the days were warm, the trees wore jackets of deep green, and the air was redolent with the fresh smell of all living things; now the days are chill, the trees naked, and the crisp air smells of flint.

We have made comfortable camp with a blazing fire, enjoyed a dinner of fine rabbit stew, and have set the watch as the stars have come out and peep down at us.

== Sunday, Kuthona 15, 4707; The Lost Coast Road, Evening ==

Earlier this day as we trotted down the road with the sun blazing overhead we came across a scene of much carnage. The bodies of three horses, still tacked, and the people who had been riding them were arrayed across the road. Feasting on this gruesome supply of flesh were some half a dozen giant geckos.

Nolin charged his war horse directly at one of the beasts as the rest of us dismounted and took to the attack on foot. After fierce but brief battle all of the lizards were dead, but alas there were no survivors from the waylaid party.

We pulled the corpses from the road and arrayed the saddles and other equipment neatly nearby as a windfall to the next travelers who came this way. We found 20 gold coins, which we kept for ourselves, along with a wand that Task took.

[230] wand of knock [18 charges]

== Toilday, Kuthona 17, 4707; Magnimar, Noon ==

We arrived in the city early this morning, and immediately met with the others before heading out to search the city for what clues we could find about the recent series of murders and the Brothers of the Seven.

Nolin was once a member of the local constabulary, and he was able to confirm with his friends of the guard the details of the killings. He also found that the officials were intentionally keeping as much secret as they could, to avoid panicking the public.

It seemed very much like the intent of the slayings was in fact to cause as much public unrest and terror as possible. The common threads between this butchery and what we had uncovered in Sandpoint were the sihedron carved into the corpses’ chests and the Foxglove family, who had secret dealings with the Brothers.

We found obtaining any information about the Brothers of the Seven in Magnimar was just as difficult as it had been in Sandpoint. People either claimed to have never heard of them, or had only heard the name as some mythical organization from long ago.

I spent much of the morning over at the Temple where I had spent the past eight years of my life. Father Tyrion was pleased to see me again, and quite taken aback at all that had happened in Sandpoint since he had sent me there earlier this year.

Tyrion had heard of stories of a very evil, brutal and blood thirsty organization called the Brothers of the Seven, but had thought them merely legendary tales of horror from another time. Oddly enough he did seem uncomfortable talking about them, almost as if he had just realized that those stories of vile and despicable deeds and the group behind them might be for real, and possibly responsible for the recent killings in Magnimar.

Avia, who had accompanied me to the temple, and I joined our companions at an inn near Aldrin’s town-home. We plan to pay it a special visit after lunch.

== Toilday, Kuthona 17, 4707; Magnimar, Late Afternoon ==

We left the inn and made the short walk to Aldrin’s place. We gathered around the back gate — except for Nolin, who remained out front — and removed the boards barring our way. We discovered that the old iron key we found at Foxglove Manor unlocked the latch, and after fetching Nolin we entered the yard.

A sort of solarium was attached to the house in back, and its door was unlocked so we filed in. Beyond that was a formal dining room, with doors to the north and south.

Avia was detecting evil from in two locations within the house, and the room to the south was a study. The desk had been rifled through, with all of the papers thrown about the room and the drawers smashed against the wall.

The door to the east led to a pleasant living room, and there, sitting on a sofa, hand in hand, pleasantly smiling at us were Aldrin and Iesha Foxglove!

“Oh, welcome,” said Aldrin, “we thought we heard someone come in. Are you hungry? We can prepare something for you.”

Knowing the fate of the real Aldrin and Iesha we were quite puzzled and taken aback, and talked with these doppelgangers for a while to try and discern who they really were and why they were here, posing as the dead couple. That they were evil Avia had assured us.

Dispel Magic did nothing to change their countenance, and they continued to merrily chat about the weather and their life in town as if they weren’t dead as dust back up at the Misgivings where we had last found and left them.

Aldrin seemed really insistent about preparing dinner, and stood up to make his way into another room.

Meanwhile Nolin had opened the north door of the dining room and came face to face with some hideous creature with slavering fangs and a nasty set of claws. He quickly closed the door, but the beast burst through.

Having heard the commotion from up north, I confronted the Aldrin-thing about its evil persona, at which point he ceased to be the charming host as he and Iesha lashed out at those of us in the room. They too now looked like the monsters they were.

They proved incredibly tough adversaries, and with a great deal of skill and effort (and not just a little healing) we managed to kill them.

Sabin or Trask thought they were same ancient monster — the very first of such things to curse the world with their presence. Although why they were here posing as the lovely couple was still a mystery.

The Aldrin look alike had been carrying a fine sword, which we confiscated.

[231] masterwork long-sword

We then set about exploring and searching the house. We found the signs of a thorough search in every room, with furniture ransacked and items slashed and tossed about the place.

Someone was looking desperately for something, and it became apparent that they had not found it, and resorted to more destructive means of searching as their frustration grew.

The top floor boasted a grand master bedroom with an attached study to the south. The study had a zebra skin pelt on the floor, and a fireplace with an interesting mantle, sporting two lion heads. I began to search the lion heads for some sort of hidden mechanism to a secret compartment, but it took Kane’s clever eyes to spot the tiny, deep hole in one lion’s mouth.

The odd lion head key we had found earlier activated the mechanism, which dropped a panel to a hidden space in the mantel.

Within was 200 platinum coins, a case with legal paperwork, and documents for the townhouse itself, including a ledger of expenses.

In the paperwork we finally found written evidence for the existence of the Brotherhood! They had financed a large part of the Misgivings, as we had learned from the family journals found at the manor house.

The ledger held unusual entries for expenses (200 gp a week) paid to “B7” for “Iesha’s trip to Ashalon.” The entries appeared to be in Aldrin’s hand writing and dated as recently as a month before. Iesha in Ashalon? But wasn’t Iesha already dead a month ago? And why keep paying B7 for her expenses in that far away city if she were not actually there?

It looks like we have another mystery on our hands.

== Oathday, Neth 14, 4707; The Misgivings, Evening ==

While I was updating my journal, Sabin and the others spent the past half hour investigating the odd basement room in which we found ourselves.

Sabin was convinced this was an arcane workshop at one time, with work tables and rusty tools and paraphernalia scattered across their surfaces.

The northern stained glass window depicted a gaunt man drinking from a vial filled with a shocking green fluid. The southern showed the same man, but with the familiar signs of rot and corruption associated with undead. His arms were uplifted in triumph as his form turned to smoke which was consumed by a seven sided box.

A set of moldy books on necromancy occupied Sabin, but when Rigel touched one she paused and stared out with vacant eyes. It lasted but for a moment, and afterward she described a vision where she was Vorel at his moment of triumph just as he was to consume the potion that would transform him into a lich. But as he drank the potion he doubled over in pain. This vision was quickly replaced with a powerful sense of anger — anger that a loved one could do such a thing to themselves — followed immediately by fear and a sense that she must save their children.

We took the books, which Nolin stored in his pack.

[214] 10 Necromancy books (Nolin)

A second door in the southern wall led to a short hall and another door, which opened onto a flight of stairs leading down and around to the north.

At the base of these stairs was a square room with walls carved from the surrounding rock. The floor was littered with blocks of stone and in the center of the room was a staircase, spiraling far down into the darkness.

Picks and chisels were laying about the rubble; and it looked as if the stairway had been bricked over with stone and mortar in the past, but this had been recently torn apart.

Wafting up from the pit was a terrible stench of death and decay.

We prepared to descend with Sabin, who can see in the dark, leading the way; but as soon as Avia stepped onto the stairs she gasped and began to flail about with her sword and buckler as if she were fighting some unseen foe.

Gashes and bite marks appeared on her skin as we raced to her aid, but we could neither see nor feel anyone (or thing) other than ourselves in the room. Detect Undead revealed nothing.

After a few moments she stopped struggling, and said she saw Aldrin frantically chipping away at the stone on the floor with a pickaxe, all the while repeating, “For you, for you!” He finally broke through the barrier sealing off the stairs when a stream of ghouls filed out from beneath and attacked her.

After a bit of healing we began the descent anew, carefully picking our way down the ancient cracked stone steps as they plunged downward into the darkness and ever growing fetid reek.

At last we reached the bottom, which ended in a large limestone cavern. Sabin estimated that we had come down 80 feet.

The air was damp and water dripped from the ceiling and oozed from the walls, which were covered in blue and black mold that spiraled about in crazy patterns. Bones from various animals and humanoids cluttered the floor, and a sound like a great beast breathing echoed out from the three tunnels that led from the cavern.

The tunnel to the north was narrow, while the one to the northwest was wide and looked well traveled. There were rocks and dirt around the entrance to the southwestern tunnel, which indicated that it was recently opened.

We moved out through the northwest passage into a large natural chamber when a gang of ghouls sprang out from the shadows and attacked. After a short and bitter fight we killed them all, and decided to make sure nothing unpleasant would sneak up from behind.

To this end Nolin volunteered to guard the entrance to the southwest tunnel, and Kane crept into the north tunnel. Unfortunately the northern tunnel was choked with thick matts of mold, which Kane breathed in and was incapacitated for a short time.

We then continued on to the west, winding our way around as the chamber narrowed and bent to the north where it opened into a vast circular grotto.

A side tunnel led due west, but the main chamber was nearly fifty feet across and towered up into the darkness. A wide pathway, or ramp, spiraled down past several cracks and openings before ending in a dark pool of water some fifty feet below.

Large cracks gaped in the wall to the northeast, while a doorway and a dark opening were to the northwest and west.

More bones (fresh and not so) and body parts were strewn about, all of which showed signs of having been gnawed upon, and the stench was horrific.

We took the west tunnel, which led to an oddly shaped chamber with a sloping floor that dropped down to the opening we had seen in the west wall of the circular chamber.

Sabin led us over to the nearby door, which he opened and passed through. I was right behind him, and Avia and the others behind me.

By the seemingly feeble light of our torches we saw a rickety table with a damp surface and all sorts of detritus scattered about it. Fine china and plates and bowls were filled with rotting flesh. A painting sat upright facing away from us.

Behind the table was a high backed leather chair facing the wall.

And behind the chair protruding out from the wall was a thick mass of mold which formed a humanoid shape. From the moldy figure came the most offensive and foul of the odors that had yet assaulted us, and it was all we could do to keep from gagging — indeed some of our team found themselves gagging and choking and could come no further in to the room.

We then saw a broken seven sided box at the foot of the mold man thing.

The chair then slowly turned towards us, with Aldrin calmly sitting there staring at us. He was no longer human, but he also did not look quite like the regular ghouls we had seen thus far.

He caught sight of Avia and became quite excited. “You’ve come to me! I knew my letters would convince you. Now let us consummate our love.” He gestured to the piles of rotting flesh on the table.

Trask made some sort of pert comment and Aldrin’s good humor vanished as he sprang up and attacked.

Avia struck him hard and he collapsed to his knees and began to cry. He sobbed, “The hurter is gone.” He looked back up at us and seemed about as pathetic a figure as a ghoul could.

We asked him what had happened to him, and he said he had to run errands for the Brothers: they wanted him to collect rats and the fungus to find out about the disease down here in the caverns.

Avia quietly confirmed that poor Aldrin was evil, but that the mold man creature behind him was an evil of a far greater power.

Aldrin sobbed on for a few minutes more, crying piteously for us to “Be kind to poor little Aldrin” when all of a sudden his face went blank and he looked up with a huge grin on his face.

“I am the Skinsaw man!” he proclaimed as he jumped up and put on a mask he had been holding. His face changed and morphed into that of Avia as he laughed and charged at us.

A few moments later and he was the dead Skinsaw man.

We then cautiously searched about the room while staying away from the mold man against the wall. On the table we found quite a few items of a personal nature that Aldrin had collected from Avia, like strands of hair and paper on which she had written. More disturbing were a series of drawings Aldrin had made of Avia, many of which had her posed without clothes.

I could not tell if the sudden flush of red on Avia’s cheeks were from anger or embarrassment, but the worse discovery was yet to come. The painting was a portrait of Iesha, but Aldrin had replaced her face with Avia’s by applying gore, blood and other bodily fluids.

We quickly grabbed the seven sided box from the floor.

[203] Seven sided box [broken]

We searched Aldrin’s body and found a handful of interesting items.

[204] +1 War Razor
[205] Ring of Jumping
[206] +1 Ring of Protection
[207] Stalker’s Mask: Crafted from leathery sections of cured human skin, stitched together in overlapping pieces like scales. This item can make the wearer translucent [+5 to hide]. Once per day it also allows the wearer to assume the shape of anyone within 60 feet. This latter ability improves as the mask feeds off of the wearer’s rage and jealousy.
[208] Cameo broach [painting of Avia on inside]
[209] Small iron key

We then torched the mold man with a flask of oil and a little flame, but even though the was mold burned into a cloud of greasy black smoke, the evil remained.

A handful of us then carefully made our way down the ramp to the pool of water. It was frothy sea water, and very deep. A rocky shelf formed a small island to the northwest, but there was little else to see.

I was quite puzzled about the water. How did the sea water get here? The top of the bluff on which the Misgivings was built was at least 300 feet above the sea below, and we had only come down some 140 to 150 feet (at most) from when we climbed down the stairs to the basement.

We returned to the main cavern, where I carefully retrieved a fine pick that Kane had spotted earlier when he had been engulfed in mold spores.

[210] +1 Heavy pick

Joining up with Nolin we passed through the opening to the southwest and into a long and large chamber that stretched to the west.

All manner of remains lay about, including the bodies of two Varisian nomads and another human. Searching them provided no clues to their identity, but we did find several useful objects.

56 gold pieces
[211] Pearl ring
[212] Adamantine long-sword
[213] Hat of disguise

As we were looking over these bodies we heard a loud thump from the west, and a gigantic bat flew in and attacked.

It took some effort, but we killed it and traced its arrival to a small round cavern to the northwest. A small circular opening in the ceiling led up to the surface, and to where I estimated the well was for the servants’ quarters.

We then returned back to the manor’s main hall to see if the odd mold stairway was anything special. Kane pulled the rope hanging from the mouth of the mounted monkey head, and the head shrieked, but nothing else occurred.

[215] Magical monkey head

Just then Trask and Nolin smelled something burning as the old stuffed manticore burst into flames and it whipped its tail about to hit Trask, singing him somewhat. And then it was just a stuffed (and now singed) manticore again.

I decided to experiment and carefully swept away the circular stairway pattern the mold had formed in the center of the hall.

We then decided to investigate the water level of the subterranean pool and using ropes verified that the top of the bluff was indeed 300 feet above sea level.

We then found some additional rope from the attic and returned to the pool where we found that the water level had changed with the tide, indicating a direct linkage of some kind with the sea beyond. How could this be?

Tying a rock to the end of our ropes we dropped it down to 140 feet before it touched bottom. That would put the base of the pool at or just above the level of the sea outside.

On the way back up we checked out the mold man room and found more mold was dripping down from the ceiling, replacing the mold we had burned away and forming another mold man shape.

Back up at the house some of my companions read the books on the Foxglove family while others studied the books on necromancy.

The Foxglove journals revealed a few interesting bits of information:

• Rogers Crazby was the caretaker of the manor while it was deserted
• The Foxgloves have long been associated with a shady organization called “Brothers of the Seven” and the their meetings had been hosted at the manor from time to time
• Vorel original built the house, but his family died and it remained empty for 20 years
• Aldrin’s family moved in until his parents went crazy and killed one another
• Another 40 years and Aldrin returned to a tragic end
• Construction of the manor was funded by the Brothers of the Seven After 100 years ownership of the house and lands would revert to them

Insightful as this information was, we had reached a dead end. Obviously some powerful evil force was still at work in the house, and our work was not yet done here. We needed to return to Sandpoint for extra training and more research before we could finish what we started.

We then experimented with the flocks of undead crows outside and verified that while they were indeed undead, they were not summoned creatures, and that there were more than enough of them to keep us trapped here at the house.

I devised a simple plan for escape that we can try in the morning light.

== Fireday, Neth 15, 4707; Sandpoint, Afternoon ==

Simple plans oft work the best. And so it was with our escape from the Misgivings this morning.

I cast Hide from Undead on all of us, including Nolin’s horse.

Nolin and Rigel then mounted the horse and galloped away, drawing off the undead crows that were unaffected by the Hide from Undead spells.

The rest of us then quickly ran to the northwest, away from the manor and avoiding the birds, until we returned to the road, rejoined with Nolin and Rigel and returned to Sandpoint.

We need to go over our list of recent finds to see what we can sell and how much income this will generate. I think all of us are ready to train, and that will require a large amount of gold.

And while we train we will continue our research on the Foxgloves and the Misgivings.

== Wealday, Neth 13, 4707; The Misgivings, Evening ==

After our break for lunch we continued to explore the house, and exploring the main hall in more detail revealed that the grotesque monkey head with the rope dangling from its mouth was magical. We also found that the bookcase beneath the circular stairs held tomes of the Foxglove family history as well as a few religious texts.

The last entry was made by Aldrin himself, sometime within the past year. He describes arriving at the house in order to prepare it for his fiance’, Iesha, who would be arriving soon.

The very first entry in the oldest book was dated 4620 and discusses the family’s search for a new home; and mentions that perhaps the “Brothers” would help.

To the south of the dining area was a large library with an extensive collection of books. Unfortunately most were suffering from damp, and had mildew growing on their spines and covers. Of more interest to us were the two chairs in the center of the room. One of the chairs lay on its side with a bright red silk scarf draped across it. The other faced the toppled chair, and between the two was a book on Varisian history. In the fireplace a stone bookend had been smashed.

As Kane entered the room he paused for a moment and turned very pale. He then described the vision, or memory that had enveloped him. He heard a woman’s scream and the scarf leaped through the air and around his throat. Suddenly Aldrin was before him, his face contorted in rage and his hands twisting the scarf tightly around Kane’s neck. And then the vision passed.

At the same time Avia had detected a cold, evil presence around Kane, but it too passed with the vision.

Kane left the room, clutching the scarf in his trembling hands.

[200] silk scarf (~100gp)

Rigel had discovered that the bookend in the fireplace, which was of the shape of a praying angel (sans one wing, which had broken off), had bits of bone, hair and blood smeared on one end.

Other than the impressive accumulation of books (albeit moldy), we found nothing more of interest.

A sitting room lay to the north of the dining area. A large sofa facing a stone fireplace with capering imps and birds carved into the mantel. The sofa was coated with a thick layer of white fungus, which we carefully avoided.

We pulled back the drapes, as we had done in the other rooms, to let in some light, and there before the fireplace, Rigel saw that the dust was churning about, as if invisible person were walking back and forth.

Avia said an evil presence was in the room as Trask bent down and set out caltrops in the path of our invisible host. The dust stopped moving, and at just that moment I heard a voice whisper, “Laurie.”

We decided to check out the door in the west wall when Trask became quite agitated and insisted that Rigel not open the door. He then demanded that she leave the house because it was not safe for her. “It is dangerous, and no daughter of mine…!” I cast Remove Fear upon Trask and he fell silent. After a moment he said he was concerned because he didn’t want “her” to go into the basement.

Another vision, or perhaps possession? Or maybe a warning.

The west door opened onto a hallway, and the first door on the right was a washroom, with a rusting metal tub set against the far wall. Something was scrabbling about in the tub: it was a hideous rat, half eaten away by some wasting disease, and its empty eye sockets rimmed with white fungus. Nolin put it out of its misery.

The next door off the hall was a conservatory, and a grand piano sat off to the side while a giant glass chandelier sat in ruins in the middle of the floor. The walls were paneled with rich dark wood, and frescoes of dancing figures decorated the lintels, but everything was coated with mold, and the floor boards of the dance floor were twisted and warped.

I pulled back the curtains and opened the double doors, which led back out to the drive along which we arrived. I then walked over to the piano and played a simple tune I was taught as a child back in Magnimar. While I am no musician, and my training on the piano was limited to one or two hours at the keyboard of the temple’s old upright, it was obvious that this ancient thing was in perfect tune!

We all then noticed that Kane was standing in the center of the room; his eyes vacant as he swayed from side to side. Suddenly he started and looked around at us as if trying to remember where he was.

As soon as I had begun to play on the piano he was swept into a dance with a beautiful woman. As they danced she changed as bruises formed on her pale neck, her eyes bulged and her lips turned blue. She then dropped to dust, leaving Kane back with the rest of us.

We made our way back through the small corridor and into the main hall and then across to the circular staircase, which we ascended.

The first room was obviously a child’s room, with a child sized bed, a toy box and a fireplace in the corner. The sound of a child crying wafted through the room, although I could not hear it.

The crying affected Avia, who hid in the fireplace as best she could and refused to speak to any of us. After a few moments she came out of the fireplace looking confused. She said thought she was Aldrin, frightened and running into the room to get away from his father, who had bulging eyes and a knife in one hand while chasing Aldrin’s mother about the house. His mother was also running around with a burning torch, trying to kill his father.

The room to the north had been a music room, with a few music stands scattered about and old harps, violins and flutes against the wall. The east wall was bowed, like the eastern end of the great hall below, and its windows were also of stained glass, depicting five scenes — one in each window.

• A pale ghostly scorpion
• A gaunt man holding our his arms while a dozen bats hung from them
• A moth with strange skull like patterns on its wings
• A tangle of dull green plants with bell shaped flowers
• A young maiden sitting astride a well while a spider the size of a
  dog descended from a large web

Kane noticed right away that they represented the following:

• scorpion venom
• bats wings
• death wing moth
• belladonna
• the heart of a maiden killed

Sabin commented that a lich based apthiousis was based on these ingredients.

Across the hall from the music room was a gallery of sorts. A stone fireplace crouched in the northwest corner, while cobweb covered portraits lined the north and south walls.

The north wall appeared to boast paintings from an older generation than those on the south, and on the frame beneath each painting was the name of the subject. The paintings on the north wall all appeared to have been painted at the same time in the same style (and no doubt by the same artists), just as those on the south, while different in age and style from those on the north, were done by one artist.

North wall portraits, from east to west:

1. Vorel Foxglove: a tall middle aged man, clean shaven with dark hair and blue noble clothes.

2. Kasanda Foxglove: a stern faced brunette with slightly graying hair, cut short, and wearing a blue dress.

3. Laurie Foxglove: a doe eyed little girl, much the same in the face as her mother, although less severe and stern.

South wall portraits, from east to west:

1. Trevor Foxglove: a tall and thin man with a narrow face and a long thin mustache.

2, Cyrlie Foxglove: a young woman with long red hair.

3. Aldrin Foxglove: a boy with the same foppish weak chin he sported as an adult.

4. Sendel Foxglove: a girl — obviously Aldrin’s sister.

5. Zeeva Foxglove: another sister.

Zeeva’s portrait was especially obscured with cobwebs, and when I brushed them aside the temperature in the room suddenly dropped, and our breaths came out as steamy puffs.

And with that all but two of the paintings underwent a change.

Vorel’s portrait turned to fungus, which spread about the room at a frightening rate, and, as we would soon learn, infested Nolin and Rigel with some sort of disease.

Kasanda and Laurie slumped into misshapen, tumor ridden forms.

A long cut opened in Trevor’s throat and blood washed down his chest.

Cyrlie blackened and charred and suddenly her arms, legs and back fractured in a dozen places.

Aldrin’s hair fell out as his face rotted and he transformed into a ghoul like creature.

Sendel and Zeeva remained unchanged, and we speculated that we had witnessed the end of each of the Foxglove family members as it had actually occurred. We assumed that Aldrin’s two sisters remained alive and well in Magnimar.

Moments later the room returned to as it was before, but the air was still heavy with the powdery mold that sprang from Vorel’s painting, which left us with little doubt that what we had experienced was real and not an illusion.

Nolin and Rigel both claimed that they had red spots on their arms, but the rest of us could not see them, nor could they see one another’s. We had them draw with ink where the spots were, and saw that both formed similar patterns.

Curing of diseases is currently beyond my skill, and we resolved to quickly explore the rest of the house and perhaps return to Sandpoint on the next day to seek a cure.

West of the gallery was a large bedroom, dusty and unkempt. A desk was set under the north window with a dark stain on its surface. Oddly enough there was no mold in this room.

I looked through the desk, hoping to find some document or clue about what happened here. Suddenly I became aware of a dagger and I picked it up and held it to my throat. I had just killed her! The woman I loved most in the world, and without her, what point was there in living? No. Wait. That wasn’t me, but I found that I had picked up a large sharp splinter of wood.

The papers in the desk indicate that it was Trevor’s room, and from the mental image I had just had and his painting’s transformation we deduced that Trevor burned his wife and threw her out a window onto the rocks below, and then returned to his bedroom where he slit his own throat.

Next we went to the far northeast bedroom — perhaps a guest room — caked with a thick layer of spongy dark green and blue mold. In here we heard a ghostly child’s voice ask, “What’s on your face mommy?”

Sabin started to claw at his face, and we had to restrain him until the fit left him. Poor Kasanda and Laurie ended this way. We carefully backed out from the room.

The washroom was off the north wall, with an iron tub perched upon a floor, sagging beneath its weight.

In the northwest corner was a large bedroom. The bed had been smashed and the mattress slashed, along with the walls and paintings. One painting was still intact, but turned around such that it faced the wall.

A voice shrieked high and piercing, “What do you do down in the damp below?!”

Rigel staggered about and then charged at Avia, screaming! Avia simply held her away with one arm until the evil mood passed.

I turned the painting around to reveal a portrait of Iesha Foxglove, wife of Aldrin, whom he murdered in a fit of rage.

We estimated that the damage done to the room was recent — within the past few months. And so it seems that each generation that lived in this house was destined for some great tragedy… or evil.

A door next to the bedroom led up a flight of stairs to the attic.

The first room was a work-room, with large holes in the roof and pots and urns strategically placed to catch the rain. Woodworking and carpentry tools line the shelves and rest on the work table.

The next four rooms were simple storage rooms holding furniture, bedding and all manner of household goods and supplies.

The southeast corner held a small bedroom and had a low ceiling slanting down to the east. From this room we heard a shriek from the north, and we ran out and over to a door at the end of the hall.

Rigel and Kane fumbled with the lock and Avia burst inside. It was a cold and damp bedroom, with a mold encrusted chimney in one corner and a mirror leaning up against the slimed bricks. There, huddled on the floor and wrapped in a sheet was a woman rocking back and forth and staring at the mirror.

It was Iesha. That is, it was at one time Iesha, although what it was now we were not sure. Avia said she was evil. No real surprise there.

Avia broke the mirror, and then the Iesha thing screamed out, “Aldrin, I can smell your fear! You’ll be in my arms soon.”

Someone suggested letting her go and then following her to find Aldrin (and perhaps provide an unlikely ally in the ensuing, but inevitable conflict), but we had stood in her/its way for too long and it was grasping at us. It had got a hold of Nolin and squeezed him with almost bone crushing strength.

We killed it, and if there was any part of Iesha still present, we ended her misery. The body rapidly decomposed as it lay there, and we covered the remains of the remains with a sheet.

Across the narrow hall from Iesha’s place was a locked door, and beyond the door was an interesting room filled with books, skulls with candles, scroll cases, statues, an empty birdcage, tribal fetishes and other odd but interesting paraphernalia.

A small desk stood squat before a fine leather chair, and as I sat I was overwhelmed with the sound of book pages rapidly turning, and my thoughts turned with excitement over planned expeditions and sea voyages to far away and exotic lands. But these were just pipe dreams now: all forsaken and lost because I had to settle down and marry that harpie!

Hmm, yes, well now I do hate it when that happens.

Two of the scroll cases held magical scrolls:

[201] scroll of lightening bolt
[202] scroll of keen edge

The books were all of tribal cultures, and the Ashanti tribes. A painting of a bull fight hung on the wall caught our eyes as being of high quality.

The final room was over the music room, which itself was over the dining area of the main hall, and this room shared the same bowed alcove and stain glass windows of its fellows. A desk and chair sat in the middle of the room.

• Northern window: a dark haired woman with pale skin and large green eyes, wearing red and black clothing and wielding a jagged iron staff.

• Southern window: the bottom has been broken and the hole covered by canvas, but in the top half we saw a handsome man wearing an ivory and jade crown.

The frame around the broken part of the window was burned, as if something (or someone) was set alight and pushed through.

On the desk was a battered telescope, and in the ceiling above was a trap door, secured by a series of ropes and pulleys. Nolin managed to get the contraption working and we climbed up and out onto the roof. It was late in the day and the sun was close to setting.

We climbed back down from the roof, and then down to the main hall on the ground floor. There we decided it would be prudent to walk the three miles back to the Lost Coast Road to make camp.

Once outside we noticed that in the clearing that had once housed the out buildings for the manor a vast flock of black birds or ravens had roosted. Only these birds had glowing red eyes, and they followed our every move.

Anytime we tried to walk away from the house they would drive us back.

We debated trying various tactics and spells to escape, but decided instead to conserve our magics in case we could not get away and had to camp here anyway.

We set camp between the main hall entry and the ballroom entry, beneath the bare limbs of a twisted tree. We expect trouble overnight, and despite the watch, sleep does not come easy.

== Oathday, Neth 14, 4707; The Misgivings, Morning ==

The night passed quietly and uneventful, if you can call having thousands of beady red glowing eyes staring at you uneventful.

Nolin and Rigel do not look good, and now everyone can see the angry red sores that have erupted from their skin. Kane and I used our healing skills to help as much as possible, but I fear we must escape this place and return to Sandpoint for any hope of a cure.

And apparently the only way to escape is to confront what awaits us in the basement. We’re fairly certain we will find Aldrin, or more precisely what Aldrin has become. No doubt this trap was of his creation, but he may have underestimated our abilities, or so we hope.

We scrambled down the regular stairs, leaving the mold stairway and the magical mystery monkey head as a last resort.

A kitchen. We were not expecting a kitchen, complete with table and fireplace.

The table top was covered with mold (imagine) and rat droppings (disgusting).

Disturbingly large and wide cracks, a foot wide each gape from the southwest wall. Kane has volunteered to go in if we run out of options.

As we explored the area the sound of chattering rats came from the cracks, but with some oil and a little fire we kept the diseased rodents at bay.

A door in the north end of the east wall opened onto a large room with bunks and a chair, but very little dust.

To the west a door opened onto a pantry and the rats. We quickly slammed the door shut before any could squeak through.

Next to the pantry was a door to wine cellar, filled with racks and broken bottles.

A door in the south end of the east wall opened onto a hallway, which turned north and ended in a locked iron door. Rigel and Kane worked hard to pick the lock, and when it opened we found ourselves in a chamber beneath the dining area above.

Of course the east end was bowed, and held two stained glass windows.

Sabin thought this was an arcane workshop at one time, and there is a work bench in the center of the room with three iron bird cages set upon it. In each cage is a diseased rat corpse.

It is too dark to see the images in the stained glass, and I will need to hold a brighter light source near them to see what they portray.

There are no other exists from this room than the way we came in, and now we are deciding what to do next.

Searching for secret doors is high on the list of priorities, but I fear we will need to tread the fiendish ways of a more ethereal stairway to find where Aldrin awaits us.

Postscript:

I have just completed a sketch of the basement floorplan, and noticed that we have not found a way into the area beneath the mold stairway.

== Toilday, Neth 12, 4707; Hambly Farm, Night ==

The night passed with nothing untoward occurring at Ibor Thorn’s place, which was almost disappointing in that it resulted in no new information about the recent murders.

The sheriff had mentioned a scholar camped out at the Old Light who might be able to provide insight in the sihedron rune carved into the victims’ chests. There was also the mad man found wondering near the first murder site, and he was at the Saintly Haven of Respite, an asylum south of town.

We took leave from Prickleback Lane as Ibor left for the lumber mill and made our way to the ancient ruins which the locals called the “Old Light.” There in the midst of the rubble was a small camp, composed of a single tent, a fire ring, various crates containing tools and quite a few provisions. It looked quite comfortable, although I fear our arrival startled the scholar, who was softly snoring within his tent — no doubt recovering from the previous days’ toil… or the bottle of rum that lay empty just outside.

Our mysterious scholar proved to be Quink, the head of the Sages’ Guild, with whom we had an established business relationship. Quink was delighted at having visitors, and assumed we had come to talk about the ancient Thassilonian ruins. He quickly launched into his pet theory about them: conventional wisdom suggested that the Old Light was a beacon that warned away ships from the rocky shore, but Quink was sure it had been a massive flame thrower used to repel invading forces from the sea.

We mentioned the carving of the sihedron rune on the victims’ bodies, but he was unaware of any significance such a desecration would hold. He explained that originally the symbol represented the Seven Virtues, and only during the declining years of the Empire was it subverted to the Seven Sins.

When we mentioned that Aldern Foxglove was missing, Quink said that misfortune appeared to follow that family. Foxglove Manor, on the Lost Coast Road to the south of Sandpoint, was built before the city was founded, and the Foxglove family was wealthy and prominent, and remained so until the “Late Unpleasantness.”

Aldern’s mother was found dead on the rocks beneath the cliff upon which the manor perched, and his father apparently took his own life in an outbuilding nearby. The children, Aldern and his sisters, were found hiding within the house and were taken to Magnimar to be raised. The Manor has been called “The Misgivings” ever since.

Noting that Foxglove Manor and the asylum were in the same general area we left Quink to his research and began our journey south along the Lost Coast Road.

The grey funk that had enveloped Sandpoint over the past few days lifted and our journey south became a pleasant walk through wood, rolling hills and quaint farm-steads. before long a small sign directed us onto a narrow lane that wandered about the foot of a green mound and ended in a meadow beneath the eves of a forest.

Sitting in the meadow was the Saintly Haven of Respite, a large three story building of stone. At first glance the building could have been mistaken for a large manor house for the nearby farm lands, but closer inspection gave lie to the illusion. A few grimy windows peered out from the main floor, but the upper levels were blank walls; and the single heavy, iron bound wooden door made the place feel more like a prison than a hospital.

We knocked and waited. And waited until we knocked again. Presently the door creaked open a few inches and a dirty, pinched face man peered out and demanded to know what we wanted. We explained that we were here to see Graist, the lunatic from the first murder site. The man’s face twisted into a scowl and he replied that the doctor did not wish to be disturbed, and we would do well to be off.

Immediately we became suspicious and my friends fanned out around the building as I informed the unhelpful servant that we were here on official business of Sheriff Hemlock, and they would do well not to obstruct our investigation. He burped and wiped his face with a filthy calloused hand before opening the door and telling us to wait in the office while he fetched the doctor.

Naturally we did not sit passively but explored the first floor, but saw nothing untoward. The doctor appeared and while cleaner than his henchman, was no more polite nor any more helpful. He introduced himself as Erin Habe and said his patient was far too ill for visitors. We persisted and he granted a few of us a brief visit with the invalid.

Sabin, Avia and I followed the doctor up a flight of stairs to a large dim hallway with many narrow doors lining either side, and then across and up another flight to the top level.

There, huddled in the corner of a small room was a pale, gangrenous looking fellow bound in a straight jacket. He was sobbing and his greasy hair stuck out wildly like the straw in a scarecrow.

We could make out snatches of what he was muttering, over and over, “Razors! Teeth! Too many teeth?”

Sabin used a mind reading spell and picked up thoughts of being bound and forced to watch the carving of the bodies. He also picked out a name, the “Skinsaw Man”, as the identity of who or what had done this.

Graist suddenly realized he had visitors, and he quickly gazed first at Sabin and then I with a puzzled expression, but when his glance fell to Avia his eyes practically bulged from their sockets.

“You would come,” he raved, “He saved a space for you! You come to the misgivings and he will end the killings.”

The madman was filled with rage from what look to be unbridled jealousy over the thought of Avia and… the Skinsaw Man. He suddenly dropped to the floor writhing in agony as he screamed, “Me! Me! It should have been me!”

He then burst out of his straight jacket and lunged at Avia, but he was subdued before he could do any harm to us or himself. Doctor Habe confirmed what I had suspected: the man was in the final stages of “Ghoul Fever”. But his condition was curable, and I was puzzled at why Habe would allow anyone to suffer for so long when relief was half a day away in Sandpoint.

Meanwhile the rest of our group had taken up defensive positions outside the asylum (old habits die hard) when an old man came running up the lane, crying out something about scarecrows.

Rigel was able to calm him down and found that his name was Crump, and that he had just been by the Hambly farm where dire things were afoot. “People was dead, but they was still movin’, and eatin’ animals alive like what is unnatural. And some was hung up like scarecrows, and with the full moon tonight they’ll turn and he’ll be back!”

We had heard the commotion from inside, and came running out along with Habe, who knew Crump and said he wasn’t known for his flights of fancy. We could only assume the worse.

We first sent Trask to Sandpoint on horseback with the securely bound Graist in the hopes that Father Zantus would be able to cure him. Then Crump led us south, towards the Hambly farm where unnatural things awaited us.

Crump provided an informative narration about the lands through which we walked. For instance the nearby wood was “Whisper Wood, where gnomes and pixies play and lay traps for mortals foolish enough to go in. But the best land is right up agin them woods, and so that’s where the farms are.”

Fields of corn stretched away to the south, interlaced with paths and roads. According to Crump, scarecrows were set out about the fields, and some had come to life.

We made straight for the farm house and barn, where a scarecrow was perched outside on a post. The thing began to struggle wildly on its perch and sprang down, lurching towards us. Avia confirmed that it was evil, and we quickly dispatched it. It looked vaguely human, but with strongly ghoulish features.

Avia then detected half a dozen evil entities in the barn, and a single strong source of evil from the house. We silently barred the barn doors from the outside, and then rushed into the house from the front and side doors. A very large ghoul awaited within, and cried “Ghouls to me!” as we charged it.

We quickly killed the ghoul and found that it had a leather cord about its neck from which hung an iron key with an engraved symbol upon it: a flower surrounded by thorns. Avia recognized it as the Foxglove family herald.

[198] iron key on a cord with Foxglove family herald

On the floor, beside the ghoul, were the remains of a man with a seven sided star carved into his chest. A note next to the body read, “Take the fever into you, my love. It will be my first gift to you.”

Crump identified the body as having been farmer Hambly.

So was the ghoul with the key hung from its neck Foxglove, or was it his emissary and the key intended to go along with the message? At the time it seemed unclear, but now, as I pen this entry the latter seems far more likely.

Over at the barn there was a great deal of commotion as the ghouls we had trapped within banged against the doors to get out. We opened one of the doors and killed them one by one as they tumbled out.

Oddly enough the barn was built on top of old stone work that looked like the top of a giant helmed head.

We then set about the gruesome task of walking the roads through the fields and checking on each scarecrow. When we encountered ghouls we killed them.

On the way back to the house we found a small boy hiding in the fields, whom we put in the care of Crump, who was ready to head back to his farm now that the ghoul infestation was under control.

We returned to Hambly’s house where a search uncovered a small cash of gold coins in a strong box beneath the floor boards, and a key to the box on Hambly’s body. We kept them to return to his next of kin.

With dusk drawing nigh we set up camp in the farm yard.

I am spending the hours of my watch making this entry, as wolves howl from the nearby wood. It would be a tranquil scene, but for the mayhem and carnage of the past few days.

== Wealday, Neth 13, 4707; The Misgivings, Noon ==

In the morning we returned to the Lost Coast Road, where we met up with Trask who was returning from Sandpoint. We continued south and crossed the Foxglove River through covered bridge, where we turned west.

The way had once been a grand and stately avenue lined with trees on either side, but had been neglected an disused for decades. Weeds grew thick beneath the tangled half dead limbs of the trees, cutting off the view and making it feel stuffy, despite the cool weather.

Following the twisty road some three miles further we came upon the glowering hulk that was Foxglove Manor — it gave off both a sad and sinister air, and we realized why the locals all called it “The Misgivings.”

An irregular low tumble of stone was all that remained of the out-buildings that crouched in a clearing before the house. The drive led past this and up to the house itself: a tall and ungainly thing perched right at the edge of the cliff — as if it too meant to cast itself upon the rocky shore far below.

The grounds were on a narrow, high headland that jutted east into a crescent shaped bay that had cut back into the mainland. Thorny brambles choked the hanful of trees barely clinging to life, and the wind came in from the sea in a raging shriek, cold and bitter.

We searched the site of the service buildings first, but found nothing but scorched stone and bits of charred wood. A well sat at one end, and sickly looking ravens hopped about the place, staring at us with their beady black eyes, and occasionally objecting to our presence with croaking caws of reproach.

The house. That forlorn structure, crooked, sagging and neglected waited for us. And I mean just that: it felt as if the thing were alive and waiting for us, but whether with malice, benign intent, or total indifference I could not say.

We walked about it, peering into windows and trying to get a feel for the layout within. But the windows were clouded with grime and most were blocked by heavy curtains. On the east side the house crept to within inches of a precipitous drop of some 300 feet.

Looking at one another we realized we had nothing left to do but enter the house. Rigel did her usual checks for traps at the front doors and used the key to unlock them. The wooden floor stretched away from us into the gloom.

As we walked into the grand hallway Nolin said the place reeked strongly of burning wood, but nobody else noticed it, and a few moments later Nolin reported that the smell had gone. We all heard the creaking as the wind hammered on the house. And we all could smell the dank smell of mouldering wood and plaster.

The wide hallway ran the entire length of the house and a massive, rotting stuffed manticore faced the entrance. Large stone fireplaces lined this part of the hall, and heavy blue curtains covered the windows and gave the place a dusky feel. The lintels over the doors boasted freezes of gargoyles and angels, and a circular staircase wound tightly up and out of sight in the southern wall.

Avia said the place was evil. Not any particular part of the house, but the house itself, as if evil had soaked into the walls, floors and ceiling.

I wandered further in and past the stairway I found a door which opened into a drawing room. I pulled aside the curtain to let in some light when just for a moment I saw the likeness of a beautiful woman, face forlorn, reflected in the glass.

Back out in the middle section of the hall an antique monkey head was mounted on the wall, and a bell pull ran out from its gaping mouth. The floor was covered with a tattered rug, which barely concealed a large patch of mold. I pulled away the rug and revealed a large swirling pattern of blue, green and black mold growing in the floor boards.

Concentrating on the swirling pattern I realized that it depicted a spiral stair case leading down, with skulls and bones littering the steps. I quickly stepped back from the moldy image and warned my companions of what I saw.

I then opened the door in the southern wall to what looked like a closet and found regular stairs leading up. To the north a similar door opened to stairs leading down.

The eastern end of the hall bowed out like the prow of a ship. A large mahogany table with high back chairs filled this end, and another pair of fireplaces to the north and south lined the room. A great chandelier covered in dust and draped with cobwebs hung over the table.

The real interest of the hall, however, was the bank of stained glass windows in the eastern wall. Each depicted a stylized monster pouring out like smoke from a seven sided box with spiky runes. Looking closer we realized that the runes were necromantic and that the monsters were being pulled into the box, with snarling faces.

One window depicted a gnarled and tangled tree with a face.

The next an immense hooked beak bird with blue and gold plumage.

The next a winged centaur like creature with a lion’s body and a woman’s torso.

The last window showed a blue squid like creature with evil red eyes.

As we gazed at the windows my companions all heard the sound of sobbing coming from upstairs, but I heard nothing.

I found it odd that these intricate stained glass windows had been placed in the eastern wall: the wall that overlooked the bay and must provide an amazing view. And yet the Foxgloves chose to block out the view in favor of… well, some rather tacky glassware.

There are stairs to explore, both up and down, and more doors on this level to open; but we’ve taken a moment to think about what it is we came here for, and I have taken this opportunity to enter the morning’s events and review my entries from the past few days.

Postscript, or things we know and things we suspect:

• We suspect Aldrin Foxglove of being behind the murders in Sandpoint and the ghoul fever outbreak in the farmlands to the west of here. The key to the manor taken from the ghoul along with the accompanying note makes it seem obvious that either Foxglove is responsible, or someone wants us to think he is.
• Our presence is expected here at Foxglove Manor, and we should expect a trap.
• Recall the words of the lunatic Graist spoken to Avia: “You come to the MISGIVINGS and he will end the killings.”
• Also recall the name Sabin pulled from Graist’s mind: Skinsaw Man.
• If this is how Foxglove Manor was built, then they were odd people when they arrived here some 80 years ago.