== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; night ==

After a brief rest in the shadow mastiff “kennel” where we found the Scribbler’s verse on the Runeforge, we continued to follow the wide crevice to the west.

Rarallo once again assumed the form of a whirlwind and blew the magical fog away, and we followed closely. The crack wound west and north a ways before forking around a natural column and rejoining again at the corner of a small room.

Like all the other rooms in this underground complex, the walls here were covered in Thassilonian ramblings expressing dedication and devotion to the vile Lamashtu.

A door was set in the middle of the north wall, which Rigel proclaimed as unlocked and trap-free. And yet we did not rush to open it, as we had a premonition of some doom that lay beyond. We read through the scribbling on the wall again, while Sabin focused on the aura of magic that permeated these underground chambers, and after a few moments grunted, “Much abjuration.”

And on the north door was another of the Scribbler’s poems:

Each stone the grace of seven lords,
One part of key each ruler hoards;
If offered spells and proper prayer;
Take seven keys and climb the stair.

I opened the door to the north, but fog filled whatever was beyond and so Rarallo moved forward, blowing the fog out, as Sabin and I followed.

And then I understood something important, which heretofore I had not yet realized. This entire underground lair was dedicated to Lamashtu, and the very air (and that dratted fog) we breathed radiated her evil influence. Sabin himself had confirmed this just moments before. Abjuration indeed!

My companions had succumbed to this evil, and I alone was left free from its taint. Worse, they were aware I alone had escaped this corruption, and they were scheming to murder me and each other… or worse.

And to confirm my fears, Sabin pushed past Rarallo, who had assumed his usual form, shoving him to the side. Rarallo then launched a set of Scorching Rays at Sabin, just barely missing him. Obviously evil was at work in the party, and my time to act was limited.

I quickly passed Rarallo and then set a Wall of Stone between the rest of the party and Sabin and I. Of all my team mates, it is with Sabin that I had the closest friendship and I trusted, perhaps foolishly (but then my options were limited), that some remembrance of our former friendship would keep him from acting against me.

He glared menacingly at me and then vanished into the fog ahead.

But I knew he had in fact teleported somehow to the entrance of the complex, where we first encountered the Scribbler. I also knew that Avia and Nolin were still in the room to the south. Earlier in the day, before we came down into this accursed pit, I had cast Status on these three, and so what was intended as a way for me to protect them against harm now served to protect me from them!

I greatly appreciated this foresight that Pharasma had granted me, but I needed to quickly find and destroy the Scribbler, and so I cautiously moved forward through the fog, using my ever burning torch to peer through the murk.

The passageway ended in a massive cave in, and fissures — possibly caused by the recent earthquake that caused the sinkhole to appear — riddled the walls. There was a stone door to the east, but it was magically locked, and I had no way to open it.

But scrawled on the door was another set of staves about the Runeforge:

If magic bright is your desire,
To old runeforge must you retire!
For only there does wizard’s art
Receive its due and proper start.

More riddling about the Runeforge, which may or may not be important for the larger goal. And here despair almost overwhelmed me, for the Scribbler is but an interruption in what was to be our true goal: prevent the rise of the long dead Runelord Karzul (also called Karzoug). How was this to be achieved with my companions all turned to evil?

I was trapped… at least for the day. The next morning I could pray for a number of spells more suited to getting through that door and completing the mission.

But what to do now? I went back to the wall and listened. I could barely hear the others talking in the room beyond, but could not make out what was said. Nolin was still there, but Avia was heading back through the fissure toward the kennels on some unknown errand.

I then heard a thunk against the other side of the stone wall, and then Kane called out to me, followed by Nolin. At first I remained silent, because I did not wish to give away any information about my presence, but then I feared they would break down the wall to get at me.

“You have betrayed me for the last time!”, I yelled, hoping to buy some time. But it was a feeble ploy, for I knew they were aware I had few offensive spells, even if I had any prepared.

I realized that it would only be a short while before they came through, and so I decided to bluff my way out. “Something is wrong with Sabin and Rarallo, I yelled, “and I had to place this wall here to prevent them from killing one another! We should take the wall down now.”

While these words were all true, I could hear how they would sound false to those who had already been turned against me. None the less, I took out my mace, with the thought of battering a hole in the wall, and then took the precaution of casting Protection from Evil upon myself for when I encountered my former companions.

And then all at once I saw that I had been tricked into believing my companions were evil by some sort of enchantment spell. The charm was in fact still in effect, but blocked for as long as my protection spell lasted… which was not very long.

My immediate reaction was, “Oh, crap!”

Upon hearing this, and no doubt noting the different tone of my voice, Kane called in, “What is going on?” And this time I was able to answer him honestly, explain the charm trap we had walked into, inform them that Rarallo and Sabin were also affected, and give them Sabin’s current location. I also passed on the bad news that I had a little more than ten minutes before my protection spell expired and I was once again under the influence of the enchantment.

After a few moments Kane had battered down the wall, using Nolin’s adamantine great sword, which was taller than Kane himself. Nolin did not wish to expose himself to the trap. Apparently both Kane and Avia had managed to see through the charm when they entered the hallway and the trap was sprung.

Rarallo had already been subdued, bound and gagged and lay (still struggling) on the floor. Rigel had also been influenced, and had bolted out, but Trask and Avia had caught and bound her as well, and were on their way back to us.

We quietly discussed our options, with teleporting back to Sandpoint to recover being the most logical next step. I knew Sabin had begun to make his way out of the complex, and so he would not be in danger if we left him alone for now.

But no sooner had we decided this than my Status spell indicated that Sabin was under attack. “Sabin has been hurt!”, I called out, to which Avia yelled back, “Well, come on then, let’s get moving!”

The rest of us, dragging Rarallo, rushed forward where we met up with Avia. Trask had used the Staff of the Wind to clear out the fog from this section of the caverns, so we were able to see one another. I explained how Protection from Evil could give those of us affected by the charm a chance to see through it for a while, at which point in time Avia cast Magic Circle Against Evil.

Immediately Rigel came to herself and said, “Oh, crap!” She was untied and ready to join in the rescue, but Rarallo remained hostile towards us. Kane and Rigel volunteered to drag Rarallo out while the rest of us ran on ahead to assist Sabin.

We arrived in the temple rooms to see Sabin and the Scribbler standing toe to toe exchanging blows. But then the Scribbler just vanished! Avia charged up to Sabin, and as soon as she was within ten feet of him he looked momentarily puzzled before grunting, “Huh!”

We re-gathered and made our way up the stairs and back out through the sinkhole to Sandpoint. I recommended we go to the Temple, where Father Xanthus would no doubt have the resources to dispel the charms affecting us, or break the enchantment if needed.

Mercifully the good Father was able to do so, having used five of the Temple’s scrolls of Dispel Magic in addition to two he had prepared to do so.

Rarallo was the last to be released from the enchantment, and he looked the worst for having been charmed into taking action against us. His eyes — I have seen that haunted look before — told me he would be leaving us, at least for a while. His confidence had been seriously shaken, and he said he did not trust himself to continue on with us, which was sad, but understandable.

Rarallo had not been with us for more than a fortnight, but already he felt like one of us, and I for one will miss his presence.

He did agree to stay on in Sandpoint until we were done with the Scribbler. And he said he would complete the magical items he had already promised to create for several of us.

For Sabin there was some sort of book that Rarallo was already creating.

I had asked him to create something that would require both of our efforts, most of my gold, and eighteen days to craft: a powerful amulet of inspired wisdom.

And so we walked with Rarallo to the Rusty Dragon, where we shared a late dinner and a tankard or two of ale. It was a quiet meal, and our moods somber.

The rest of us then made our way back out into the cold night and proceeded to the sinkhole, where we climbed down and set up camp.

== Toilday, Erastus 8, 4708; Sandpoint, The Scribbler’s Lair; morning ==

The night passed cold and dark, for we lit no fire, and the watches passed slowly, but uneventfully.

We prepared for our descent by casting protective and status spells on the party, and then passed into the ruined complex, and then down the spiral stairs. We stopped before the large double doors bearing a three eyed jackal — symbol of the debased Lamashtu — and decided to explore beyond the doors before heading through the caverns.

The doors were magically locked, but Trask used a staff of Knock and they opened onto a wide hallway with doors leading off either side. The hallway was choked with a cave in some thirty feet in, and so we concentrated on the side doors.

Each of these doors was stone, and also magically locked, but by now Nolin had lost all patience with the area, and used his sword to bash in each door.

To the northwest there was a short hallway blocked by a cave in.

To the northeast was an oval chamber, with the Scribbler’s handiwork scrawled over the walls. The floor was littered with piles of dust and debris, but they were lined on either side of the room, as if something had been pacing back and forth endlessly through the chamber. At the far end was a painted image of a three eyed jackal, and beneath this was another Runeforge poem:

On eastern shores of steaming mirror,
At end of day when dusk is nearer,
Where seven faces silent wait
Encircled guards at runeforge gate.

The southeast door opened onto another oval chamber, but the southern wall had collapsed into the room, blocking the a third of it.

Somewhat disappointed at what we found behind the two large elaborately decorated and magically locked doors, we proceeded back to the small room beyond the kennels.

We noticed that some property of either the fog or just the place itself caused confusion over the direction we would head. There was one such place in the kennel where this was common, plus in the tunnel where it split around a rock intrusion just south of the small room. It did not appear that these anomalies were hiding any secret ways or doors, but we will need to spend more time with these spots later to be sure.

We filed north into the foggy hallway where the enchantment trap had been set the day before, but no one was affected. Whether Magic Circle Against Evil defeated it, or the trap had expired we did not know.

Nolin smashed open the heavy stone door, and he, Sabin and I peered in. A bloody body lay crumpled against the north wall: it was dressed in a uniform of the Sandpoint Guard, and glowed with an aura of necromancy. A small desk was against the far wall, upon which were set vials of various colored liquids, and a magical magnificent peacock plume quill. The walls were covered with glowing script, and Nolin had just entered when Avia, who was our rear guard, called out, “There is an evil presence back here just outside the room.”

Sabin used his Dimensional Door trick, and he, Nolin and I found ourselves back at the southern end of the room, while the rest of the team scrambled to turn around and engage our enemy.

Of course it was the Scribbler, but he was hidden in the fog. I cast Prayer as Nolin stepped over to the doorway and started slashing at him. I tried to cast a Dimensional Anchor on him, because the fiend had a habit of vanishing just when we were getting the upper hand against him, but the spell fizzled.

I was hit by a thrown dagger for my efforts, while Sabin and Nolin were slashed by the Scribbler’s wicked looking falchion. When it struck Nolin it sprang to life and began to chew on him, weakening him.

Sabin stepped into the fog and hacked at the Scribbler, while Trask erected a Wall of Force behind him, cutting off his escape by normal means. By this time Avia had arrived and added to the physical punishment being dealt.

Trask placed a small sphere of fire directly on top of our foe, and while it did not appear to hurt it, it burned away enough of the fog and illuminated him such that we could all clearly see it!

I scrambled over to Nolin and quickly cast another Dimensional Anchor spell on the Scribbler, who was now covered by a sticky, liquid shimmering green glow. Success!

Kane had arrived by now and we both turned our attention to healing our fighters. Nolin, alarmed by the evil chewing effects of the falchion, hit it hard with his great sword, shattering it.

To the north we could hear the growling of shadow mastiffs which the Scribbler must have summoned to help, but they were blocked by the two Magic Circle spells Kane and I had cast, and could only bark in frustration as their master was hacked at mercilessly.

Suddenly the Scribbler called out, “Lamashtu, save me!”, as Avia delivered the killing blow.

We severed its head and saw that it carried a bag of diamond dust, as well as a magical cloak and armor, plus a dagger. But we did not yet have time to properly identify it, as there were still monsters trying to get at us from the northern corridor.

Nolin stepped up and one by one finished off the two dog creatures.

Kane restored Nolin’s lost health, and I finished healing the last of our wounds.

Now we are looking over the Scribbler’s possessions and deciding what to do next.

The room to the north needs a more thorough examination, and we should search through the entire complex again, looking for secret doors as well as other snippets of poetry the Scribbler may have left for us concerning the Runeforge.

A return trip to the monastic library also seems in order — we had seen a comment on one of Mokmurian’s maps mentioning the Runeforge, but its significance is still a mystery to us.

Also, our horses are still stabled in far off Galduria, and we need to bring them to Sandpoint as well.

== Toilday, Erastus 8, 4708; Sandpoint ==

That Rarallo is leaving us has been weighing on my mind, and has made me reflect upon the past for the first time in a while.

Has it truly been half a year since I met my traveling companions and (now) closest of friends?

But as I look back over these pages, and recall all we have been through together, I find myself asking, has it truly only been half a year?

Gone are the days of traveling with my clan on the trading circuit, hiring myself out to various bands to supplement a meager income. That life is gone, and even should my friends disband, I know now I could never return to that earlier life.

That younger me is gone, and I have grown. We have all grown.

I look now upon my companions, and see each more clearly than when we first met all those crazy and chaotic months ago.

Considering the troubles my people have had with orcs and half orcs, it is a wonder that my first and dearest friend of the troupe is Sabin. Direct to the point of abruptness, but seldom rash, Sabin is surprisingly thoughtful, as evidenced by his competence in both arcane and martial arts. It was Sabin who first approached me in friendship after the loss of cousin Menkat, and introduced me to his associates. And, oddly enough, in group debates it is with Sabin that I find myself most often in agreement.

There is more to my fellow cleric, Kane, than meets the eye. Unwaveringly devoted to Desna in all things, and nearly as devoted to his friends, Kane often acts as the moral compass of the group, but his needle spins rapidly in different directions. His keen eyes, alert ears, and deft hands combined with his knowledge of traps, treasures and secret ways are a great asset, but do make one wonder about his past.

One cannot mention Kane without also thinking of Rigel. Rigel is a bit of an enigma, and while she is without doubt the most skilled artisan with anything involving doors, locks, traps, valuables or things hidden that I have ever met, her motivations for being with the group are less clear. What is clear is her willingness to go headfirst into danger and use her skills in order to ensure our safety.

At first I was certain that Kane and Rigel were a couple, but these days I am not so sure. Sometime in her recent past Rigel was involved with a bard, who had been part of the group, but something unpleasant happened with that relationship, and the bard is gone (although occasionally alluded to with various derisive comments). However, it is obvious to anyone who observes them together, Kane and Rigel are as thick as thieves.

Former member of the guard at Magnimar, Nolin is unexpectedly intelligent, and boasts a wide range of knowledge — anything from animal training to engineering. But make no mistake, Nolin is a master at arms, and is one of the first to charge in and confront any threat to the group, protecting the rest of us who are not so capable. Besides his loyalty to the team, one of Nolin’s greatest strengths is his ability (and seemingly passion) for planning, and our successes are often a result of having spent many hours beforehand thinking through our actions.

Enthusiastic to a fault (sometimes literally), Trask is the youngest member of the party. Outgoing and boisterous, he appears to have an unnatural affinity with fire in general, and red dragons in particular. Fortunately his magical abilities extend well beyond things that explode, and he is the default operator for our magical devices. He and I are the only members of our party that regularly (and religiously) keep up to date journals, and even if he were not so affable, I suspect this alone would make us friends.

I have worked with a number of paladins over the years — and have heard quite a few unfavorable limericks about them: most variations on the infamous “There was a young paladin from Korvosa”, but I digress — and Avia is like none I have ever met. The fact that she has worked so well with this group of disparate personalities proves she is far more tolerant and wise than is usual for her line of work. A follower of Sarenrea, Avia’s past is a mystery even to herself. She seldom speaks of it, but I wonder if part of her yearns to know from whence she came. For now the present seems more than enough for her, which I find is true for me as well. One thing she does have in common with other paladins is her ability to inflict damage upon our foes, but even in this she exceeds the norm.

Despite (or perhaps because of) our differences in background, outlook, and social standings we all work incredibly well together. Arguments are rare, but never escalate beyond a willingness to simply agree to disagree. But far more often than not we work in relative harmony, and I believe our history and growing reputation more than speak to how effective we are as a team.

And greatly blessed am I to be a part of it.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; after noon ==

The Scribbler, which is what our loquacious friend called himself, appeared to have shrugged off Trask’s fireball and began to chant.

Perhaps half a dozen large, dog like creatures appeared around us, with deep black coats that seemed to meld into the shadows cast by our torches. Their teeth, it easy enough to see, were long and razor sharp. They let out a series of unearthly howls and attacked the party.

Rigel found herself down on the floor, beneath one of the slavering beasts, and called out for help. I cast Magic Circle Against Evil, which afforded some measure of defense against the dog fiends. Rarallo launched a volley of magic missiles at one, Nolin seriously crippled another, and Avia eviscerated a third, which vanished with a greasy “pop”.

We looked like we had the dog beasts well in hand when the Scribbler called out, “Now, my fiends, it is time, wait no longer!”

A barghest (a canine looking daemon) appeared between us and the door through which we entered, and two massive devils appeared to the west.

As bad as things looked, the situation was not yet dire. For one, the protection spell I had cast prevented the newly summoned creatures from approaching us, and for another, the dog like creatures were quickly dispatched by our fighters and magic users.

Sabin and Trask began to attack the barghest behind us, with Kane providing healing support, while the rest of us turned our attentions to the pair of disturbingly large devils squatting between us and the Scribbler.

But by now the devils were no longer passive bystanders to the battle. One of them cast a spell (I assume Chaos Hammer), which left Nolin, Trask and Rigel confused and stunned. I frantically tried to think of a spell that would counter the effects, but at the same time the gravity in the entire area where our team was standing reversed.

Avia appeared to have no trouble with this, and she gracefully performed a pirouette, turning head to foot as she slowly fell toward the ceiling.

The rest of us fared more poorly, with the most acrobatic of the group (Rigel and Kane) managing to land on their feet while the everyone else just dropped, landing hard.

Healing was called for, and as soon as we were able both Kane and I sent waves of positive energy about us, healing those injured by the fall.

Sabin continued to hack away at the barghest, which had fallen with us (but did not benefit from our healing efforts), eventually killing it.

Nolin was out of the fight entirely, laying in a heap on the ceiling with a blank look on his face. Likewise Rigel was of no use, and appeared to keep sticking herself with a rapier. Trask appeared to pass through moments of lucid thought, but just as often he appeared to be angry at Rarallo, who had fallen near him and was (at least in Trask’s mind) the cause of his current misfortune. Mercifully Trask’s anger was expressed by fits of slapping feebly at Rarallo, who returned the favor until putting some distance between himself and his ineffectual nemesis.

We had managed to orient ourselves on the ceiling for combat, and even sent a spell or two loose on the devils before us, but lightening appeared to have little affect on these bloated fellows, much to Rarallo’s chagrin, and with the reverse gravity in effect we had to move cautiously if we were to engage them.

Fortunately the devils were not aware that we were in a zone protected from evil, and when one of them tried to teleport among us to engage in melee, it found itself instead shunted off to one side, dumped on its head, and stunned for a round.

Avia and Sabin, who were standing next to it as it appeared, began to viciously hack at it, and black otherworldly blood splashed about the place.

The other devil remained out of reach, eventually dispelling my area of protection from evil, but too late to save its companion.

I cast Airwalk on Avia who marched out of the anti-gravity area toward the remaining devil, while Sabin, who had cast Fly on himself earlier, followed, pulling me with him.

The Scribbler was still somewhere in that direction as well, making cat calls about the fight,

“Now remember, my pet, don’t harm them such that I can’t use their bodies to create more undead minions!”

“While somewhat impressive, this conflict is nothing compared to what was done at Runeforge!”

Runeforge again! I called out for him to explain himself, but he simply tutted, “You had your chance to talk.”

By now Avia, Sabin and I had reached the devil, and the Scribbler fell silent after that, perhaps having read the writing on the wall — figuratively speaking, since having actually written all of the writing on the walls, he was already familiar with his own ranting.

Avia and Sabin began to slice and dice the devil, while Rarallo and Trask, who was no longer confused, launched magic missiles at it, and Rigel peppered it with arrows.

Sensing its imminent demise, the devil cried out to Avia, “Obviously you are a person of great power and prowess. You have but to stay your hand and I will grant you a wish.”

Avia made some sort of derisive snort as I cast Holy Smite, killing the devil.

We now had some time to take in our surroundings, as we looked about for the Scribbler.

This great room had one time been a cathedral to Lamashtu. A great image of a three eyed jackal was carved into the floor, which softly glowed a rusty red light. Six alcoves lined the walls, three on a side, each with its own statue of a jackal headed pregnant woman, with khukris clutched to their chests.

At the western end, a dais, where once an altar stood, was partially buried under the ceiling’s collapse.

By the south western most alcove was an enormous crack that had opened as part of the cataclysmic events that had caused the collapse. A thick fog lingered here, as it did at all of the other entrances and exits to this room.

The entire chamber glowed with an aura of an abjuration effect.

I cast True Seeing, in case the Scribbler was standing invisible nearby, but saw no sight of him. However, I did see a door magically disguised to look just like the wall. After pointing to the exact location of the door, the others were able to see it as well, but Rigel found that it was magically locked.

We used a wand of Knock to unlock the door, and were disappointed to find nothing but a fissure leading to the north, which shortly dead ended.

Rarallo took the form of an air elemental and blew the fog out from the crack to the southwest, as the rest of us followed. The crack lead to a natural tunnel that turned back eastward and opened onto a larger cavern, which was partially separated into three chambers, fashioned like large kennels.

Blood and entrails squished the floor, and as we entered we heard more howling, and soon more of the shadowy dog like creatures appeared around us.

Trask heard the howling and fled back into the cathedral, where we could here him running off with a fading wail. The rest of us stood fast, and Avia began to hack at the monsters as they closed in on her.

I was standing in a small fissure to the south, when a dog appeared out of the shadows and knocked me down. I am not cut out for combat, and so I cast a Protection of Evil spell, effectively blocking any attacks from that direction, and forcing the creatures over to Avia, Nolin and Sabin.

Trask regained his composure and returned to us, and moments later all of the canines had been killed.

More blood and gore lined the floor here, and scattered about were the armor and weapons from the six Sandpoint guardsmen who came down just a few days before.

The kennel walls were covered in writing, which I took the time to read, as I had done in the other chambers. Most of it was of the same sort of ramblings and lunatic rants as before, but in the southern chamber, near another fog filled crack leading west, I found something completely different:

On frozen mountain Xin awaits, His regal voice the yawning gates. Keys turn twice in Sihedron, Occulted Runeforge waits within.

A clue, no doubt, but what does it mean?

Is Xin the name of a mountain? We already know from our reading in the monastic library that Xin-Shalast was a great capital city of the runelords, and that “Xin” was a prefix often associated with Thasselonian sites.

This reminded me of the time when my cousin Menkat and I hired on with a party to find the lost lair of “Tark the Bastard”, a local legend among the people of the foothills of the Kodar Mountains. Tark was a half orc magic user from a generation ago who commanded a squad of potent adventurers that scoured the lands for treasure and magic artifacts. Some claimed he was just a glorified rogue, stealing from whoever proved to be an easy target; while others claimed he brought justice to this corner of the Storval Plateau, freeing the common folk from the tyrannical overlords who controlled the region.

Old Tark and his band were active for many years, and rumor circulated that his hideout was brimming with an amazing amount of treasure. When Tark and his party simply vanished from the region without a trace, people began searching for his loot.

No one was sure about the location of Tark’s stronghold, but a rogue named Pipper had found an old map of the area with a bit of rhyme scribbled on it, which was said to have been written by Tark himself. Pipper put together a squad of various talents, into which Menkat and I had hired in.

The rhyme on the map led us to a small cairn at the head of a valley, buried at the bottom of which was a flat stone tablet with another rhyme. This led us to a small cave on the Karzaron river, where carved into the wall was yet another rhyming riddle, which when solved revelaed the whereabouts of Tark’s hideout.

And so, after weeks of searching and research, and scrabbling about the scrubby and inhospitable lands, fighting off brigands, animals, thirst and hunger, we arrived at our destination. The entrance was located, traps disabled, a band of kobolds defeated, and we finally entered Tark’s long lost lair.

Bones, rusted weapons and armor, and dust were all we found. Almost all. Engraved upon the backrest of a stone throne carved in the native rock, in the same hand that had left the clues that lead us here, was Tark’s final message to any who might find their way here.

A word of advice among the bold,
Who make a living seeking gold.

Or magic, gems or items of wonder,
To horde in secret gathering plunder.

But then one day old age must come,
And all thy minions must keep mum.

To divvy all the precious loot,
Or chivvy them and give the boot.

For treasure split is treasure lost,
And this you may find too steep a cost.

A little arsenic will see it done,
Though arse thyself ye have become.

But now old Tark, his fortune made,
Has gone to Korsovo to get laid.

Menkat and I laughed all the way home. We could afford to. We were simply hired hands who had been paid a flat rate. But Pipper and his friends were in it for shares.

Anyway, the Scribbler’s bit of near nonesense may require a return trip to the monastic library for further research, but for now we still have the Scribbler himself to deal with.

A pair of grand, if not blasphemous, double doors we have left unopened behind, for I feel that our true goal down here lies beyond the fog filled crack before us.

Rarallo is preparing once again to assume an air elemental form and blow the way clear so we may proceed.

== Sunday, Erastus 6, 4708; Magnimar; late night ==

We searched the Black Tower (in the valley of the same name) for secret rooms or passages, but found none.

We lowered Derreldon’s body down into the cold crypt below, still wearing a Sihedron Amulet, and closed the secret trap door. It seemed appropriate that he, being a monk, should be laid to rest in a room purposefully built as a monk’s tomb. We will return as time allows to Hallow the place and add extra protections.

We then teleported to Magnimar and began the slow task of selling off our surplus inventory. Being Sunday, many of the larger main stream businesses were closed (as were all of the banks), and so selling off our more exotic items and exchanging the large amounts of copper and silver for something more portable must wait until tomorrow.

We set up a meeting with the Mayor for the following morning, and then each of us set out about our own private business. For most it was time to unwind and rest, and a suitable inn was found and rooms rented.

Nolin left to meet up with his old comrades in the City Guard, and Kane left to visit the Temple of Desna.

I had two things on my mind that gave me no peace: how to track down citizens with sihedron tattoos so they could be removed, and the where abouts of Xanesha — we had expected to find her lurking in Mokmurian’s lair, but I feared she must be still in Magnimar, working her ill-will against the city and its people.

My first stop was Pharasma’s Temple, which was not difficult to find, being easily the most Gothic structure in the city and situated next to a prominent cemetery (both as usual).

I was able to speak with the head priest, and explained my concerns. She had not seen or heard of any unusual tattoos on anyone, but an acolyte who was working nearby overheard our conversation and volunteered the following story.

“It was maybe a month ago when a woman, who was with child, came in. She was close to giving birth, but was in an unusual amount of pain, which is why she came to us. She had a tattoo where you’d normally never see it. And her child was stillborn, which was a blessing as it was deformed, like it was half animal, half child.”

She had never seen the woman before, but said her manner of dress indicated she was from one of the less affluent districts — probably Shadow.

Xanesha once haunted the Shadow district, and the story reminded me too much of Lamashtu for comfort. I strongly suspected our old nemesis was still operating in town, and that immediate action was called for.

I returned to the inn and rounded up everybody except Kane and Nolin. After hearing what I had found we were all eager to head out and find Xanesha, but first we returned to the temple where I could cast Scrying using their mirror dedicated for this purpose. Unfortunately the attempt failed, and so we’d have to locate Xanesha the hard way.

We set out as the sun was setting: our first stop was the Shadow Clock, that derelict edifice where the party had last faced Xanesha. That conflict had ended with a dead party member and Xanesha flying away.

It was as they had left it several months earlier. Signs of the battle scarred the tower, but it was obvious no one had been there since. Looking out from the top I could see the lights of the inns and public houses glowing beneath the colossal span of the Ironspire. The sounds of people drinking, wenching, and gambling drifted up from below. Gambling. That was where we would find Xanesha or her cohorts.

The nearest such business was seedy, but thronged with people lining the bar and seated at tables, heads close together as they conducted private business. A larger, boisterous crowd was gathered at the far end, crowding around the gambling tables. We made their way over to the action and surreptitiously looked over the players for sihedron tattoos peeping out from clothing.

Fortunately the night was warm and the patrons were dressed accordingly. After a minute or two Rigel discretely pointed to one of the players shooting dice, who’s tattoo occasionally peeked out from beneath his shirt as he leaned over to toss the dice onto the table.

Trask squeezed his way next to the man and looked on in wonder. It took little time for the tattooed man to notice what he took for a young man fresh from the farm on his first trip to the city. He talked Trask into putting up some gold in order to join the game, and began to explain the rules, which appeared to change as rapidly as the sides of the dice.

Meanwhile I sidled up to the bar and, after ordering a drink for which I put down too many coins, asked the barkeep about my friend’s new found playing companion. The barkeep said he was known as the Snake, and if I cared about my friend I would do good to keep on eye on him and his companions. He also mentioned that the Snake had a particularly cruel girlfriend, whom he described as a real piece of work.

This immediately got my attention, and I began to describe the woman for whom we were looking, to which the bartender replied in a low voice, “Do you mean Xanesha?” I confirmed that that was indeed the woman, and I explained how she was fooling innocent people into getting tattoos, which she claimed allowed them special access to certain events and locations, but which really harvested their souls for her dark master, a powerful mage.

At this the man became somewhat nervous, and wondered out loud how someone thus marked could escape this fate. Sabin had joined me by now and offered to use an Erase spell, which was a harmless way to remove the tattoo and break the binding. The barkeep cautiously lifted up his shirt and his tattoo vanished.

I pushed a small pile of coins across the bar and asked him to spread word around the Shadow District about the tattoo, its true deceitful purpose, and how desirable it was to have the thing removed. He grateful took the money and wholeheartedly agreed to spread the word.

While Sabin and I were having our conversation, Trask had bravely managed to lose all of his stake to the Snake and his friends. Rigel, who is an expert at all games of chance, had been watching and seen how the Snake and Friends had cheated, and so she put a sizeable stake of coins on the table and proceeded to clean up, in a friendly sort of way.

Upon seeing that Rigel was a serious “player” he invited her to go to a nicer house, with higher stakes. Rigel agreed as long as her friends, Avia and Trask, could come along, and so the four of them got up to leave.

I cast Status on the foursome as they left, while Sabin grabbed a boy cleaning tables and sent him off to fetch Nolin and Kane. We discretely watched as the Snake led our friends to another building some distance away, where after knocking on the door and speaking a password, they were all let in.

Sabin, Rarallo and I returned to the Clock Tower to await reinforcements.

In the gambling house, Rigel played several games with modest success, while Avia and Trask looked on. A young woman came over to Trask and introduced herself as Isabelle, then asked if he was playing. Trask replied no, and she invited him upstairs to a private party, where everyone wore masks. He said he’d come up and join her once Rigel had finished playing. She winked at him, ran a long fingered hand down his side, and told him not to be too long about it.

Eventually Rigel tired of the game, and the three made their way upstairs to the party. There was a hallway, and a handful of rooms, but no obvious signs of merriment, so they opened a door to a room where a handful of masked figures were standing around.

“What are you doing here?” barked one.

“Isabelle invited me, um, us,” stammered Trask.

Hearing her name, Isabelle appeared, wearing a medusa mask, and led our friends to a storage area where masks and other party essentials were stored. She indicated that they should select something appropriate to wear.

No sooner had the door closed than the eyes of Isabelle’s mask glowed green and rays of putrid green light shot out, striking Avia. But Avia shook off the intended effect, and said, “Your time has come, Xanesha!”

“Bring it on paladin!” spat Xanesha.

And the paladin did.

Xanesha, spitting out blood, cried “Curse this!” and vanished.

Trask, thinking quickly hastened himself, Rigel and Avia, and after briefly searching for a secret exit, they ran out from the room and down to the exit.

But the rest of us had not been idle during this time. Nolin and Kane arrived just as Xanesha had revealed herself to our friends, the shock of which registered with the Status spell, and I called out, “They are in need, we need to run!”

We raced through the streets toward the gambling house, and Rarallo sent a bolt of lightening before us, blasting the door to flinders so it would not impose any delays.

As we approached the doorway, Avia came running out shouting, “It was Xanesha, but she teleported away.”

Trask and Rigel joined her, and Trask, looking at the door (or where the door used to be) shook his head and created the illusion of a red dragon, “To provide a cover story for what blasted the door.”

At that moment a set of bright red rays engulfed Avia and Trask, and from down the street came a wicked laugh as Xanesha appeared, in her true Lamia Matriarch form.

Less than a moment later Sabin and Nolin were at her side — something she clearly did not expect — and Nolin savagely hacked at her. Avia, who was still hasted, charged in and beat the shit out of her. Xanesha was swaying unsteadily on her feet, and I could see she planned to flee combat once again, and so I sent an icicle in her direction, which sank into her chest as she dropped, joining the rest of the filth on the street.

Rigel then came up and casually cut off her head. “Nothing to see here!”

I looked down at the hideous, broken body of Xanesha at my feet and thought of all of the carnage she had caused. Vengance for my cousin Menkat’s death now seemed a small thing compared to all the other sufferings, but it still tasted sweet all the same.

We took the opportunity to explain to the gamblers and operators of the house who Xanesha was, and what she was doing in Magnimar. The thought of their tattoos being used against them unsettled most, and I have little doubt that by morning not one of those present would be left sporting a sihedron rune. Word of Xanesha’s treachery and betrayal should rapidly spread throughout the district, if not the entire city.

We took Xanesha’s mask and spear, the latter of which Sabin recognized.

[1010] Mask of the Medusa: a gold mask with eyes of green crystal. Grants +4 bonus to all saving throws for visual effects. Once per day the wearer can seen a pale green ray from the eyes to a target, which must make a Fortitude save (DC15) or be turned to stone (like Flesh to Stone) for 1 minute.

[1011] Impaler of Thorns: an Ancient Thassilonian weapon used for crowd control. A +1 spear of dark wood, once per day it can be used to create a burst of despair in a 30′ radius with a DC16 Willpower save (see Crushing Despair for a description of the effects). Those who fail must make an additional save (DC15) to avoid being nauseated.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Magnimar; mid morning ==

We met with the Lord Mayor, and explained what we found about the Runelord Karzoug, and his accomplice Xanesha. I explained the tattoos, and emphasized how important it was to set up some sort of city wide program to ensure that afflicted citizens could have their tattoos erased.

At first his Lordship was not particularly moved by our arguments, but after I explained how the tattoos would enable the return of an ancient power, who would most certainly look to conquering all of the major cities for himself, he began to warm up to the idea of having the city somehow assist.

I then offered up a plan whereby those who could afford it could pay for the removal of the tattoos for others, and that if each person who donated brought in others to donate, they would receive a share of that donation, and so on down the line. Quite naturally, I explained, the city would need to administer the program, taking an appropriate share required to manage it.

By then the Mayor was quite ecstatic about the program, and called in his financial administrators even as we were leaving.

We then finished selling off our excess items, got the coins exchanged, and purchased a few additional equipment and supplies.

We are about to teleport onto the Lost Coast Road, just south of Sandpoint, and walk to the city from there.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; noon ==

We entered Sandpoint, and were heartened to see reconstruction from the giant invasion and dragon’s fire well underway.

We have spoken with Mayor Devlin and Sheriff Hemlock, but they could only repeat what they had already said. Sandpoint was rocked by an earthquake, and soon thereafter the sinkhole appeared in the northwest corner of the town. At night an unholy howling can be heard from the sinkhole, and the guards who were sent down to investigate never returned. Later, cries of pain and agony had echoed up from the pit.

We peered down into the thirty foot wide crater and could see a passage leading off to the northwest. The southern end of the sinkhole exposed the cells of the city garrison, which provided easy access to the bottom of the pit, some fifteen feet below street level.

Hauling out Olithar’s journal and map entries I judged that the sinkhole was approximately where the underground temple had been, with its (now) inactive (or so we hoped) rune well.

I have taken Olithar’s old map of Sandpoint and sketched in the location of the sinkhole, and have copied his map of the underground complex into my journal so I can update it as needed.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; after noon ==

The narrow passage from the sinkhole had a smooth, worked wall on the right, and a rough jumble of stone and earth on the left. Following it we soon reached a short set of steps leading down before sharply turning to the left. A door was on the right hand side of the junction, and a set of collapsed double doors further down the left passage, set in the right wall.

Comparing this arrangement with Olithar’s map it became apparent that part of the ceiling of the ancient underground temple had given way, and the passage was in fact the southeastern edge of this main chamber. Although littered with rubble, the area beyond the double doors matched Olithar’s map, and on the ground we could see fresh boot marks leading further into the complex.

We followed the prints, which led deeper into the Thassilonian ruins, through rooms, passageways and chambers where my companions had explored more than a year before. The rubble and damage caused by the sinkhole petered out as we went further in, and soon there was but a fine layer of dust on the floor, in which it was easy to see the prints of the ill-fated Sandpoint guardsmen.

In and down and around we walked until once again we encountered rubble strewn about the floor. This time it was at the top of a spiral staircase leading down.

Nolin volunteered that, “This was blocked the last time we were here, but it looks as if someone has removed the rubble.”

Olithar’s map confirmed this.

The boot marks led down, and so we followed until we ran into large spider webs blocking the stairs. Trask used a flaming sphere to burn these away, but found the stairway simply dead ended at what we assumed to be the bottom. Rigel squeezed forward and found a latch to a secret door, which she skillfully opened.

Wispy tendrils of cold, clammy fog wafted in from the darkness to the west.

We paused here to organize ourselves, and I have taken the opportunity to update our progress.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; after noon ==

I know not what function this chamber served, but entering it sent a chill through my soul. The well worked stone walls, floors and archways were covered in Thassilonian writings… but the size, style and means by which the words were written varied.

Some passages are written in bold, blocky letters three feet tall, while others are in the smallest, most graceful script imaginable. Some words are written in a greasy black ink, and no small amount appear to be in a dark brown substance that can only be dried blood, and no few have been engraved into the stone itself.

Peculiar patches of magic fog cling to the eastern doorway, through which we came, and to the north, where a rough corridor dead ended. A door in the eastern wall to the corridor was locked, but Rigel’s nimble fingers quickly unlocked and opened it to reveal a very short hall with another locked door.

This locked proved no more difficult to Rigel than the last, and soon we opened the door and looked in to see a round room with a round pool in the center rimmed by a lip of stone. A domed ceiling arched overhead and runes covered every surface, praising Lamashtu, goddess of deformed creatures. The water itself was perhaps three to four feet deep and lightly radiated an aura of evocation.

Back in the main chamber a set of closed double doors, bearing the engraved likeness of a three eyed jackle (the symbol of Lamashtu) were set in the south wall, while westward a wide hallway appeared to open up to a much larger room.

But now a voice speaks out from the darkness: a grating, screechy sound speaking in ancient Thassilonian, and I shall attempt to record here all that is said as the conversation unfolds.

Voice: Greetings good people, what news of the world? What can you tell me of the Runelords who govern the lands?

Takkad: The Runelords are long dead, and only a few scholars remember them or their deeds.

Voice: What great power replaced these mighty rulers?

Takkad: While there are many empires, there is no single great empire: ancient Thassilon has crumbled to dust, and only a handful of ruins remain.

Avia: I sense a very evil presence over to the west.

Voice: Who in these lands wields the greatest power?

Takkad: There are many who wield mighty powers, but do not feel the need to subjugate others to prove their greatness.

Trask: I wield great power.

Voice: So there are no true wielders of great power left in the world, just impotent little war lords gnawing over their insignificant territories, or rag tag wanderers like yourselves.

Trask: No, really. I do wield great power.

Avia: If you are so powerful, then why do you hide in the shadow? Reveal yourself!

A fiendish humanoid appeared to the west, wearing a breast plate, and wielding a wicked looking falchion in one hand, and a dagger in the other. One of his eyes was glazed over — completely milky white — and he smiled at us with what I can only describe as an insane grin.

Takkad: The free peoples of the world represent far more power than your ancient, cruel overlords.

Voice: From what you say, nothing in the world today can compare to the great Runelords, and their Runeforge…

Trask: I said, I WIELD GREAT POWER!

A fireball has engulfed the figure — Trask!

== Oathday, Erastus 3, 4708; Therassic Monastic Library; late night ==

Sabin and I worked at a frantic pace, eagerly scanning through the library’s ancient texts for information about Karzoug, Alaznist, and any magic or ritual involving rune tattoos.

I did pause briefly to wonder at Sabin’s comprehension of Thassilonian: what was it that first compelled him to learn an ancient, dead and nearly forgotten language? Was he inspired by the monumental ruins left behind by this lost civilization, or was there some other, perhaps personal reason?

For me, well I am Shoanti, and my people were once the warrior class of the Thassilonian empire, and our tribes still cling tenaciously to certain aspects of our heritage, including the old language.

It was a long and tiresome task, interrupted many times by discussions about how to notify Longtooth and how to parcel out his agreed upon share of the reward, and also whether we should investigate the Black Tower for which this high desert valley was named.

The mechanical librarian was helpful, but only to the extent that it held the complete list of titles and subjects for all tomes in the library in its shiny mechanical head. Left to us was the task of sifting through each of the many volumes the metal man brought forth from our enquiries.

We had seen images of Karzoug before — my companions at Thistlestop, and all of us at the Storval Stairs — and the descriptions of him from the texts matched what we expected. One illustration depicted him with gems embedded in his forehead and hands. He was apprenticed to Runelord Haphrama, and rose through the ranks until, at the age of 77, he replaced his mentor and took up the burning glave, symbol of the Runelord of Greed. We were left to ponder whether Karzoug hastened the need for Haphrama to be replaced.

Karzoug’s realm was Shalast, and under his leadership it prospered as it never had before, with its capital, Xin-Shalast, considered to be one of Thassilon’s most prestigious and powerful cities.

Interestingly we found a letter in one of the books on Karzoug addressed to one of his minor officials about an accounting error. Apparently a report filed by the official included a discrepancy of seven gold pieces. Karzoug took this personally, and as punishment he had each of the official’s seven sons ritually gilded and placed in the town square as a reminder that what was Karzoug’s belonged to Karzoug, and everything in Shalast was belonged to Karzoug.

Like Karzoug, my companions had seen images of Alaznist before, and had in fact sold a marble statue bearing her likeness which they found in the ancient ruins beneath Sandpoint. She was as stunningly beautiful as she was cruel and bloodthirsty. As the Runelord of Wrath she commanded legions of soldiers who were altered by magic, drugs or hideous mutations (Olithar had mentioned the results of her handiwork that were skulking beneath Sandpoint) to be enraged against whomever their mistress labeled foe.

And her chief foe was primarily Karzoug. The two neighboring Runelords hated one another beyond reason, and their two kingdoms, Bakrakhan and Shalast, were ever at war with one another.

Bakrakhan was located where the present Varisian Gulf is located, having been sunk in the cataclysm which ruined the Thassilonian empire. Sandpoint and much of the Lost Coast Road were on the eastern border of Alaznist’s realm, as were all of the X’s found on the map in Mokmurian’s possession.

The Runelords often scoffed that even death could not defeat them, and as such no text mentions their final resting places, although the capital of each realm seemed a likely place.

What we uncovered about the rune tattoos was most disturbing. There is a ceremony of binding whereby the subject is marked with the tattoo of a particular Runelord. When the subject dies, or is killed, then that part of his soul that is closest to the Runelord with whose rune the subject has been marked will by siphoned to the Runelord.

It was clear that if the deaths were arranged in such a way to bring out the specific vice represented by the Runelord, then a larger portion of each subject’s soul would go to the Runelord. What fate awaited the rest of the victim’s soul was not stated, but some texts darkly hinted at blasphemous ends.

This immediately brought to mind the work of Lucretia at Turtleback Ferry and the sinking of her gambling ship with all of its specially marked patrons drowning. Lucretia was obviously working for Karzoug, the Runelord of greed.

And having looked through Olithar’s journal entries I wondered about the violent deaths Nualia had planned for the city of Sandpoint, and the (seemingly) senseless murder spree Xanesha inflicted upon Magnimar. Were these forces at work on behalf of Alaznist, the Runelord of wrath? Olithar did not mention any tattoos borne by the victims, but did the party know then to check? I think not.

The locations of these events align with the former realms of those two Runelords, and I fear we may be facing the attempted resurgence of more than just the one.

The good news is that if the tattoo is removed, such as by an Erase spell (or I would imagine more painful methods), before a person died, then their soul would not be harvested for the Runelord.

Avia, who could also read Thassilonian, found that the huge cauldron we encountered on the way in was a Rune Slave Cauldron. These were made in Xen Shalast, and used throughout the empire to convert unwilling or unruly giants into obedient servants. In this way a large and able workforce was maintained, and many of the great Thassilonian works of splendor thus created.

What little information we could find about the Black Tower was that it was once the bell tower of the Therassic monks, who were devoted to worship of the Peacock Spirit. Oddly enough we could find nothing about this entity, although the brotherhood itself was said to be evil.

We also spent more than a little time reading up on red dragons. Just in case.

These creatures make formidable foes, but it was apparent that Longtooth was a juvenile male, which explained his in your face, everything is about me, sullen attitude.

Red dragons automatically detect magic and can breath fire at will. They are arcane spell casters, with exceptional strength constitution and a natural ability for melee. They have keen senses, can see in complete darkness, and can still fight even when blinded. They are immune to sleep and paralysis, but very vulnerable to cold. They have a frightful presence that can cause even the bravest warrior to run away in terror (although, as pointed out to Rigel, those less brave are more likely to run away no matter what).

And so just what are we to do with our dragon?

Well, for one we will uphold our end of the agreement and deliver to Longtooth his fare share of the loot we found in Mokmurian’s underground lair.

There was talk of teleporting to Longtooth so we could inform him of our victory over Mokmurian, or even waiting until the morning when we could use a Sending spell to let him know our status.

But in the end, we decided to do none of those things.

Instead we carefully went through our inventory and found the total, and then we chose Longtooth’s share, which we would deliver to him in the morning. All of us would go, and we would leave our share of the treasure behind. We would go completely ready for combat, in case the dragon decided to be hostile.

As part of this process we identified a handful of items that we had previously missed (mostly from the cute little kobold berserker):

[1000] necklace of fireballs
[1001] +1 breast plate (small)
[1002] +1 buckler (small) [Kane]
[1003] +3 short spear [Kane]

All told we had 78,000* gp of inventory to which Longtooth had a share. But we had an additional 7,000 gp of items we had discovered in the wyvern cave before our agreement was made with the dragon.

There was a contingent of us that was hoping the dragon would cause a fuss and attack us. Sabin and I were in that group, but we intended to go further and actually antagonize Longtooth, and we worked out our own private plan.

It is late and we are tired — especially those of us who have spent the day reading ancient texts written in cramped or spidery hands.

The party accidentally omitted the 5,000 gp worth of laboratory equipment and supplies found in Mokmurian’s work shop in its initial tally.

== Fireday, Erastus 4, 4708; Therassic Monastic Library; evening ==

Trask and Rarallo working together could teleport the entire party to Longtooth’s cave, and so we emptied our bags of holding and haversacks, cast defensive and protective spells, and found ourselves on the ledge just outside the cavern.

Kane looked down below to see that the giant camps were indeed dispersing as the rest of us cast a few last moment defensive spells, pulled out our ever-burning torches and entered the dragon’s lair.

Longtooth wasn’t there, but he soon swept in and stood between us and the opening. I told him that we had defeated Mokmurian and his primary minions, had carefully kept a tally of all we found, and had brought his share with us to fulfill our agreement.

Sabin opened a bag of holding and unceremoniously dumped out what we had decided to give to the dragon. It was an accurate amount value wise, and even included two highly magical axes (for which we had no use). But we had also included a lot of mundane giant armor (beyond the value of Longtooth’s share) which was not tied together and spilled out in a cluttered mess, making the pile of loot look less appealing than it otherwise would.

Longtooth liked the magical items, and accepted that the amount of gold we had included as a good amount. But he wanted more — he wanted scroll books and a map to the location of the library.

I told him he was lucky to get what we offered, considering he had cravenly hid in his cave while we did all the dangerous work of defeating Mokmurian and his followers.

It was just a little nudge, sharply delivered to be sure, but it was all it took to push Longtooth’s greed to anger, and he puffed himself up and charged at us, baring his fangs.

I think none of us were impressed.

I cast Holy Smite on him, while Sabin used a Dimensional Door to move himself plus Avia and Nolin right next to the dragon. And they proceeded to beat the living shit out of Longtooth. He batted at them feebly, but when the rest of the party launched magical attacks against him, and then the fighters had another go at him, with Sabin dealing the killing blow it was all over.

We now had an ex dragon lying dead before us. Rigel took the opportunity to leap into the pile of coins that made up Longtooth’s horde and wallow about in it while I used a pair of Wall of Stone spells to seal the cavern from unwanted visitors.

We managed to collect the entire pile of coins and handful of interesting items into our bags and packs and teleport back to the library. We would return later to skin the dragon and remove his head (as a gift to be presented to the citizens of Sandpoint).

[1004] Amulet of Mighty Fists

360,055 cp (3,600.55 gp)
23,145 sp (2,314.5 gp)
34,030 gp
50 pp (500 gp)

water opal: 1,000 gp
rich blue diamond: 1,600 gp
2 black opals: 8,000 gp each
53 gems of various types and quality: 3,500 gp each
Tapestry of monks sparring: 600 gp
Set of 4 silver idols: 600 gp each
wyvern with human rider
human warrior trampling a daemon
centaur dressed in full plate
leaping fish with a wide mouth full of sharp teeth
A platinum statue of Karzoug: 5,000 gp

We went through the new items and found Longtooth’s horde had a value of

coins: 40,445 gp
items: 32,600 gp

This, combined with our previous findings gave us a total new found wealth worth 115,100 gp.

A number of these items will no doubt be kept by the party (quite a few items are already in active use), but when divided nine ways (one share for the party fund), we each stand to have a tidy number of coins.

Later, Kane stealthily made his way back up to the main giant compound (being shrunk to a tiny size via the trapped room in the process) and observed that there were still a lot of giants wandering about, looting the place.

We spent the rest of the day resting, or discussing what we each might do with our share of the loot.
== Starday, Erastus 5, 4708; Therassic Monastic Library; evening ==

I used a Sending spell to contact Conna and ask her how long we should consider the giants in the fortress under her protection, and she replied that all those loyal to her should be gone in a couple of days.

Kane used Sending to Sandpoint to let them know the giant threat had been eliminated and the dragon slain. Mayor Devlin replied that their had just been an earthquake and a giant sinkhole had opened at the northwest corner of town (the location of the Old Light). She didn’t sound panicked, but she did say they could use help.

Kane also contacted the ferry men at Wolf’s Ear to let them know we would not need their services to return, and to tell the stable in Galduria that we would pick up our horses and settle the bill in a couple of weeks time.

I then sent a message to the mayor of Magnimar, informing him of the giants’ overthrow, and warning them about the potential threat of a Runelord cult, and to keep an eye on anyone with an ancient rune tattoo. Quite naturally the mayor was alarmed by this news (and probably more than a little confused), but he must wait until tomorrow for clarification.

Rarallo teleported Sabin, Nolin and I back to Longtooth’s cavern, where Sabin cut off the dragon’s head while Nolin skinned it. I then cast Gentle Repose on the head and skin to keep it fresh. We promptly returned to the library level once our grisly work was done.

We spent the rest of the day pondering over how to handle such a large quantity of copper coins, with suggestions ranging from spending it to improve Fort Rannick, which technically we owned, to giving it to the folks of Sandpoint.

We also considered where to go next. Sandpoint was in need of some sort of aid, but it was not desperate, and we did need to pick up our horses. We also needed to sell some of our treasure, and convert some of it to gold coins or gems, and possibly purchase equipment and supplies. Both Magnimar and Korvosa were likely candidates for where we could best do these things.

I am beginning to tire of this underground complex and long to feel fresh air on my face, and to see the open sky. We have another day before we plan to head up to the Black Tower, slaying any giants or harpies we meet along the way.
== Sunday, Erastus 6, 4708; Therassic Monastic Library; morning ==

There has been a change of plans.

I used Sending to clarrify the threat of the Runelords to the mayor of Magnimar, who seemd less unsure, but still not convinced of any real danger.

Kane performed another sending with Mayor Devlin, and she reported back that part of Sandpoint had collapsed (in the sinkhole?), and that the guards sent to investigate never returned. And there is a terrifying unholy howling unlike any dog they have ever heard. They need help and they need it soon.

Unfortunately we are not prepared to return to Sandpoint, but rather than waste time sitting idle, we have decided to teleport to the base of the Black Tower and deal with it now so we would not have to return later. Tomorrow morning we will gather up our possessions and teleport to Sandpoint to offer whatever assistance we can.

But now I need to cast a Magic Circle to help protect us from the harpies at the tower.
== Sunday, Erastus 6, 4708; The Black Tower; noon ==

We appeared at the foot of the Black Tower, which rose up twice as high as any of the (more recently built) towers of the fortress. It was ancient, and made from black stone, which was carved into elaborate shapes, and stone gargoyles clung to its upper reaches. Moss and lichens clung to the stone, giving it a sickly yellow-green hue. The entrance was before us, but four harpies saw us and swiftly flew over.

One of them shrieked in ancient Thassilonian, “Protect the tower of the great monk from these intruders! Kill, my sisters.” She dove down, attacking Rarallo, and received an arrow from Rigel for her efforts.

Another attacked Sabin, while Trask fireballed a third. But this harpy began to sing, and Trask stood, as if transfixed, and watched as she swooped down and attacked Kane.

A fourth harpy was perched on the wall, and she too began to sing, but rather than have her enter the fray or enchant anyone else, I encased her in a box of stone. I assume she will die for want of air eventually.

We pressed our attack on the remaining three, who proved to be much tougher than one might expect from bird women. But one by one they dropped, and after some healing we approached the tower door.

It was unlocked and untrapped, so Nolin opened it and we all stepped inside a large circular room.

It was cold, and all the surfaces were coated with a heavy layer of frost. The ceiling was fifteen feet above, but other than where we entered there was no obvious exit. I cast Airwalk on Nolin, figuring at least one of our fighters should be up off the slippery surface, and Trask cast Spiderclimb on Kane. Kane detected a trapdoor in the floor, which Sabin opened.

It was dark below, and even with dark vision Sabin could not see the bottom. I cast light on a pebble and dropped it in, while we both watched as it fell perhaps seventy feet to the floor of a chamber below. A pair of green glowing eyes looked up at us.

Instantly I cast Flame Strike on the eyes. It took little deductive reasoning to figure that a pair of glowing eyes in a black tower created by an evil order of monks and guarded by harpies belonged to something nasty and evil itself. Kane cast Bless and Rarallo sent down a ball of lightening.

A figure, tightly wrapped in strips of linen, and carrying a metal cylinder in its naked hands shot up from the shaft to the ceiling. It glared at us with vile glowing green eyes.

We heard it, or what it was carrying chant in Thassilonian, “The green light, the green light, the green light, the green light!” The mummy itself then cackled, “You’ll pay the price for violating the tomb of the Peacock Spirit! Flee now or die!”

Nolin climbed up to it and slashed at it, as Kane and I channeled positive energy towards it. It in turn shot a green ray at Avia and Trask, burning them. It touched Nolin, who appeared to be shaken, but he continued to hack at it. Trask granted Avia the ability to fly and Kane and I continue to channel. Eventually we prevailed, and the mummy turned to dust, which dropped back down the shaft, along with the metal cylinder it had been carrying.

While Nolin looked fine and unharmed, he said he was feeling ill, and was worried he had a disease known as mummy rot. Rarallo had a ring with Remove Curse stored, which he cast, and Avia added to that a Remove Disease. These combined effects appeared to have cured Nolin.

We lowered Kane down into the chamber below, which was circular like the room in which we stood, but much, much colder. He quickly grabbed the cylinder and brought it up.

It was a magic scroll case, with six spinning circles on the outside along with a series of runes. We played around with the runes and circles, but eventually grew impatient, and Trask used three knock spells to open it.

There was a collection of 18 scrolls within, claiming to be The Emerald Codex of the Therassic. The first nine scrolls contained curses, and we passed over them for the time being. The next eight were magic scrolls:

Greater Restoration
Heroes’ Feast
Order’s Wrath
Scrying
Slay Living
Unholy Blight
Regenerate
Symbol of Stunning

The last scroll described how to get to the entrance of the library and the password used to get past the shining child guardian.

Or you could just find and use a key, as we did.

Kane did not have time to explore or search the chamber below, and reported that it was barren. I might slip down on a rope and search — cold has minimal affect on me and I should be able to endure the room long enough to perform a thorough search.

And what about the upper reaches of the tower? Is it just ornamentation, or are there other chambers accessible via secret ways or methods?

== Oathday, Erastus 3, 4708; Mokmurian’s Underground Lair; evening ==

We decided to take out the threat of the dimensional dogs before attempting to find and confront Mokmurian. We leafed through the books we have on creatures, but could not find anything even closely resembling our canine friends.

Looking at the oddly curved corners of the hall, Rarallo recalled a tale told around arcane circles of a Savina Eldrich, a sorceress who insisted on living in a house made of circular rooms. One day an experiment went awry and damaged one of the circular walls, and Savina was found ripped to shreds in a room on the opposite side of her manor.

Not particularly useful, but it made for an interesting tale.

Kane had listened to the doggy voices speaking behind the narrow door at the eastern end of the north wall of the hall, and so we gathered around, ready for action.

Rigel checked for traps and locks, and finding none she moved aside so Nolin could open it. A large cavern stretched beyond into the darkness. Nolin, Sabin and I entered the room, and I cast Light upon a rock and tossed it to the center of the cavern. We closed the door behind us to prevent anything from escaping.

The walls were a combination of natural rock face and worked stone, but all of the corners and jutting edges had been rounded over. In the center of the cavern was a large column of rough (but rounded) stone, and to the west was a stone double door. Sabin picked out the gleam of our lights reflected back from a pair of eyes glaring at him.

In short order three of the canines appeared in front of us, biting with sharp pointy teeth and slashing with razor claws. Rarallo came in and immediately blasted one of the pups with Magic Missiles, while Avia ran in and engaged another of the hounds, shouting out, “They’re evil.” I had imagined they would be.

I called out, “Everyone come in and close the door behind you!”

Trask took this opportunity to be incredibly dense when he entered and closed the door behind him, leaving the rest of the party out in the hall.

The creature nearest Avia stared at her, causing terrible slashes to open up over her body, and she replied in kind using her sword.

One of the doggies levitated up some distance, but remained in range of both our fighters and spell casters. The dogs had an annoying habit of blinking away when they looked to be taking a severe beating, and after Nolin cut one into little pieces and Trask reduced another to a charred pile of (unpleasantly dog smelling) ash, the third, who looked ready to drop, popped out of sight and did not return.

With the dogs out of the way we were able to look at the western doors more carefully. Rarallo saw that there was a zone of magic before the doors (where he, Sabin and Trask had been standing), and that the enchantment was from an Alarm spell.

If he wasn’t aware of our presence before, Mokmurian knew we were there now.

Rigel did the usual with the doors, and surprisingly found neither trap nor lock. We opened them and walked through the doorway into a huge room.

Gigantic columns lined either side of the chamber, supporting the ceiling some hundred feet above us. Broad stairs at the far end of the room led up to a sort of stage area and a small door. Thassilonian runes wound their way around the columns.

The floor was cluttered with piles of scrolls, books, and lab equipment. A large metal bound chest sat against the far wall, which elicited a squeal of delight from Rigel.

Sabin walked a short distance further and turned to say something to the rest of us.

At that moment a bank of solid fog engulfed us — and when I say solid I mean just that. It was sticky and thick and moving through it was like trying to move through water.

Trask reacted swiftly and used a staff we had collected earlier to send a violent Gust of Wind through the fog. I cast Airwalk on Nolin, who was standing beside me. The wind cleared enough of the fog away for us to see Sabin get struck by fiery red beams of light before ducking behind a column and casting Fly upon himself.

The fog cleared and we could see a giant — a rather short giant — standing along the south wall looking at us with contempt in his eyes. He was wearing a bright crimson robe and wearing goggles of some kind. He shot up fifty feet into the air from where he gesticulated towards us menacingly.

Trask cast Haste on us as Nolin scampered up near Mokmurian and cut into him with a mighty swing of his great sword. Mokmurian struck back with a crushing blow from his club. Disturbingly this appeared to heal the giant some amount, and he burped out an ecstatic sigh.

I placed an Airwalk on Avia, who waded into battle as Rigel taunted, “Go home, Mokmurian, you’re drunk!”, to which he replied, “I am home. You are dead!”

Rarallo zapped the giant with bolts of lightening and Trask used the staff to place Airwalk on me. I quickly ran up to the fighters and began to heal Nolin, who had been taking the brunt of Mokmurian’s attacks.

The giant flew up to the ceiling while Avia slashed at him, and then pointed a finger at Nolin. A sickly green ray shot forth and struck Nolin in the chest. Kane was near at hand (using Spiderclimb) and channeled healing energy, and at the same time Sabin hit Mokmurian with a Ray of Enfeeblement.

I healed Nolin who joined Avia at the ceiling for a tea party with our host, who actually had the audacity to say, “If you leave now I will only set my minions against you.” We pointed out that we had already met and slain his cohorts and that he was on his own. “Inconceivable,” he shouted, “Hounds of Tindalos, to me!”

“Yeah, about your doggy things. We kind of killed those too.”

It soon became obvious to Mokmurian that assistance (canine or otherwise) was not as close at hand as he had first thought, and so he cast Dimension Door and vanished. Argh! We were so close.

After checking the west door (which was blocked by rubble), we quickly gathered and sped back out to the long hallway in hot pursuit. Well, most of us did. Rigel was more concerned about the contents of the chest and stopped to see what was inside. Sabin and, naturally, Kane remained with her for safety.

A quick jog back to the cauldron room showed he was nowhere on the current level… at least nowhere we had already been. Our thoughts turned to the bronze double doors in the hallway, and there we found ourselves a short while later joined by Sabin, Rigel and Kane.

There was a sihedron shaped key hole, but we had no key. Abjuration and conjuration energy wafted off of the door and Trask used a Knock spell to unlock it. Clunk. The door began to glow, like metal heating from a bright yellow to an intense white hot blaze. And it began to scream — continuously.

Something moved out from the door, and the light came with it. It struck Trask, who burst into flames, and blinded him, as well as Kane, Rigel and myself.

I used a Remove Blindness spell to cure myself in time to see Avia slice into the painfully brightly shiny creature. Kane used Dismissal to banish it to another plane — I found myself hoping it was an exceptionally dark place with very large, angry and powerful denizens who hated the light.

A few minutes later and sight returned to my friends.

Nolin led the way through the doors into a vast circular chamber, with what looked like a deep, dark well in the center. A mechanical construct lurched to life and clanking loudly approached us, and speaking in Thassilonian said, “Welcome to the Therassic Monastic Library. Please state the author, title or subject for your search.”

Tables and chairs were positioned around the central well, and double doors were at each of the cardinal points, but all except those we entered from were blocked by rubble.

Mokmurian was not in here, and so we asked the mechanical librarian for a map of the area. It walked over to the well, and stepped out into the nothingness, levitating down. The massive, seemingly bottomless hole in the center was where the library volumes were kept! He returned, but had unfortunately taken us literally and showed us a map of the region. We asked again, being a little more specific about wanting to know the layout of the library. This time he returned with a map, which closely matched the one I had been making, that indicated there was no place for Mokmurian to be lurking nearby.

We made our way back to the columned hall, where Rigel proudly displayed what she had found in the chest, but moments later we heard the sound of heavy footfalls marching towards us. Mokmurian shouted, “They are probably still in the assembly chamber!”

He just really could not fathom that we posed much of a threat, despite having obviously done away with all of his guards and defenses, and having pretty much kicked his ass moments earlier.

We quickly set up our defense at the entrance to the room as a troop of giants stomped into the adjacent cavern. If nothing else we were fairly confident we could whittle our way through the foot soldiers to get at Mokmurian.

Imagine our surprise to see Conna marching at the head of the giants. She stormed up to Nolin, and by use of facial ticks and furtive gesturing indicated she wanted us to give way. Nolin winked back and did some sort of attack that wasn’t a real attack, but she seemed exasperated by this act, and so we pulled back and let her through.

As she passed in I cast Prayer on our team (including her) and the rest of the team quickly killed the next giant before us. I had just used Hold Person to freeze the next giant when Conna hissed for us to go up the stairs and stay out of the way, and “try to act fearful.”

Tactically this was not a good plan, but Conna had already aided us in the past, and we knew that after we killed Mokmurian she would be faced with the unenviable task of disbanding the giant armies on the surface and sending the sullen youth back to their homes. We owed her at least this amount of cooperation, and so we fled up the stairs, screaming like little girls.

The entire force of giants swept into the room, with Mokmurian flying in and up to a corner — the furthest corner from us, I could not help but notice.

Conna then held up her arms and shouted, “We have suffered from his Tyranny long enough, down with Mokmurian!” The giants were at first confused, but it became clear that Conna had been quietly recruiting the more sensible giants in this place to revolt against their overlord should the time seem right. The time was right. Giant fought giant.

Nolin and Avia raced through the air to get at Mokmurian, and I followed, but first took the hill giant’s head out from my pack, shouting, “Here is another of your oppressors, and so shall they all fall!” as I tossed it down among them. I then took Barl’s head out — and even the mighty M seemed a bit taken back by this — and likewise hurled it to the floor with a curse.

Conna and her forces managed to push most of the giants and their fighting into the cavern, leaving only Mokmurian and a single follower, who was even now climbing the stairs to get at our spell casters that were standing there launching attacks against the wizard giant.

Mokmurian sent a fireball at our team, who had all been protected against fire beforehand, which engulfed not only them, but his only surviving loyal follower. Trask looked somewhat amused by the effect and said, “Wow, I always wondered what those looked like from the inside.”

And of course the stupid giant whom Mokmurian blasted took it as a badge of honor, and swore never to abandon his noble leader. Never in this case lasting perhaps two seconds before he was dropped by Sabin and the sorcerers.

Mokmurian himself was looking more than a little ragged when Rigel shot him with an adamantine arrow. Mokmurian grabbed at the feathered shaft sticking out from his chest before his eyes became vacant and his head lolled to one side. But he did not fall — not yet.

Suddenly his body stiffened and his head snapped up and alert as it glared malevolently at each of us. Then he opened his mouth and from it a voice spoke, but it was not Mokmurian’s.

“So, these are the heroes of the age? Gasping worms. You will know true greatness when I, Karzul, greatest of the rune lords, raise my army, slaying all who dare oppose me. Know this, the death of each creature who bears my rune tattoo brings me closer to my triumphant return!”

There was more scoffing, and bragging, and I believe he mentioned a specific rune lord as his nemesis (and how he and his followers would get what was coming to them). My but these megalomaniacs do love to talk about themselves, but I suppose that goes with the territory.

And then Karzul released Mokmurian, who fell to the floor with a loud, squishy thud.

We severed his head, and as much as I wanted to keep it, Conna’s need was greater. She and her allies were victorious, and we presented her with Mokmurian’s head, explaining how he had been in league with the rune lord Karzul. There was much muttering and many dark looks at the head, because the rune lords were infamous as the enslavers of giant kind.

Conna said she would present the news of Mokmurian’s treachery and death to his followers on the surface, and ensure they all went back tribes. She strongly recommended that we keep out of sight until the giants had disbanded.

And this is fine with us, for we have to tally up all we have found in this place, and return to the dragon Longtooth with his share. This was little work for much gain, because he risked nothing by his inaction, but we will honor our bargain.

But we will go fully prepared in case he proves less than honorable, and the extra day or two spent down here will provide us with a much needed rest before any such encounter.

We have thoroughly searched the Mokmurian’s body and the “assembly chamber” and taken inventory of what was here.

From the chest:

[913] amber and sapphire necklace
[914] set of rune stones
[915] scroll (magic)
25,000 gold pieces
2,480 platinum pieces

On Mokmurian:

[916] wand of Bear’s Endurance (13 charges)
[917] +1 great club of defending and spell storing
[918] +4 bracers of armor
[919] Robe of the Runes (+4 INT) Scarlet silk robes covered with Thassilonian runes of power. Once per day it can recall up to 4 spell levels prepared and previously cast during the day
[920] bag of holding. Filled with a set of spell books containing virtually all arcane spells from level 1 through 7
[921] key to the library (we assume)
[922] 500gp of diamond dust
[923] brass goggles of fog and mist penetration. These allow the wearer to see through all magical fogs and mists, but give -4 to perception if used in regular conditions

The room itself held all sorts of arcane texts, components and equipment: Mokmurian was obviously using this room as a research laboratory to teach himself spellcraft. The total value is around 5,000 gp.

There were regional maps and detailed plans for attacking various cities and settlements.

We also found an interesting map of the area along the Lost Coast Road with four X marks drawn upon it. Three of the marks are off shore, but one is crossed over the Old Light at Sandpoint, next to which is the notation,

“Hellfire flume location. Foundry stones may perhaps tell where the traitor Xaliasa his his key to the rune forge.”

It would seem that we are destined to return to Sandpoint yet again.

We also plan to spend additional time in the library. I have found that with any levitation spell, such as Fly or Airwalk, one may peruse the stacks on your own. But the organization is beyond me, and for now I suspect we will rely upon the mechanical man to find the volumes we are seeking.

Sabin and I may be the only ones in the party who can read the ancient tongue, and already I have been busy transcribing a short history of the Thassilonian empire, which I have attached here.

But our short term goal is to deal with the dragon. I recommend we keep his share of the loot and anything we will allow him to see (and perhaps select as his own in exchange for the equal value of gold) in one bag of holding, and keep everything else in the other.

And on a personal note, Trask has kindly restored me to my full size. It was interesting to see the world through Kane’s eyes, but the enchantment was odd, and anything I set down or dropped that had been reduced in size with me immediately sprang back to its normal size, making it unusable (by me), which was most inconvenient.

== Oathday, Erastus 3, 4708; Mokmurian’s Underground Lair; noon ==

The past day and a half passed in a blur of stealthily crawling about the tunnels and chambers of Mokmurian’s underground lair. Using a map provided by the old giantess and sworn enemy of MM, we were able to make good progress. We have battled trolls, a formidable hill giant, and a smaller and yet more challenging magic wielding stone giant. We were victorious in all of these encounters, and yet Rigel and I find ourselves seeing the world through Kane’s eyes: we have been reduced in size. Sabin too suffered this fate, but being a front line fighter he has been restored to his usual stature by Trask.

Thus far neither Rigel and I have found any significant disadvantages to our current diminutive state, although I find it a little more wearisome to haul around my pack than before.

After killing the spell caster we continued on down a wide corridor and out from the area covered by Cona’s map.

We had followed a large spiral passage down hundreds of feet to get the the spell casting giant, and the stone work down here was quite different from that above. For one thing it is of a much higher quality, without a mark or flake of chisel or hammer in the smooth grey and black marble. And the shape of the corners is uniformly round: there is not a sharp or abrupt edge anywhere.

This southeast corridor split into east and southern branches. The east ended in a cave in, with a small room off the north, while the south led to a large room with wide archway to the east (also choked by rubble) and a wide pair of wooden double doors to the south.

And some sort of magic was working here: you could look directly at a section of wall, or rounded corner, or ceiling, and see what you were looking directly at as expected, but spreading out from your direct line of sight was an area of increasing blurriness — peripheral vision simply did not exist in this place.

Rigel found that the double doors were neither trapped nor locked, and so we opened them and followed a hallway that opened onto a large, high chamber leading off to the east. It was hot and hazy here, with a dull orange-red glow flickering over the walls, which were lined with bands of carved Thassilonian runes. The runes conveyed no specific meaning to those of us who understood that ancient tongue, but the general theme was clear: enslavement, obedience and servitude all for the glory of the Rune Lords.

Near the center of this chamber was an enormous cauldron, some dozen feet tall and nearly twenty feet in diameter, sitting squat on three thick and stubby legs. A pit of fire burned hot beneath it, and tendrils of smoke and vapor rose from its top.

Rarallo cast a Detect Magic spell and was temporarily blinded by the blazing aura of the cauldron. And beyond this massive pot stood the tall and imposing figure of a giant statue, which turned its head towards us as we entered.

Avia and Nolin charged it as I stepped in and cast Prayer, and Sabin threw a club he had take from one of the giants we had felled earlier.

The golem looked at the fighters as a syrupy brown ray oozed from it and touched Nolin, who was slowed, but at that moment Trask cast Haste on the party, offsetting the effect on Nolin.

Rarallo zapped a Ray of Lightening at the golem, which simply bounced off its rocky hide; however Nolin and Avia were using adamantine weapons and quickly reduced the construct to rubble.

And then an odd… thing stepped out from the well where Rarallo was standing. It was ten feet tall and bulbous shaped, like a furnace, and in its bulging belly was a large gaping mouth with yellow flames inside. Rarallo shocked it with Lightening, but it spewed forth a spray of molten hot metal, badly scorching the sorcerer. And before we could react it then stepped back into the wall, leaving behind a cooling pile of slag.

Rarallo thought recalled legends from the dwarves that told of such creatures, but there was nothing we could do to give chase, or stop it from returning, and so we moved on.

The temperature dropped radically in the room to the east, lining the walls of which were two dozen armor clad, weapon wielding stone giant corpses, each posed in a combat stance. In the center of room was headless ogre corpse wearing a highly magical set of plate mail and wielding a pair of magical axes engraved with Thassilonian runes.

We were suspicious (to say the least) and so I shot the central ogre figure with a crossbow bolt, which simply bounced off the armor. Trask stepped over and upped the ante with a fireball.

That got the headless ogres attention, and with a grunt — for being headless it was unexpectedly vocal — it raised an axe, which was now glowing blue, and pointed it at Trask. About half of the giant corpses lurched into action and moved towards him.

Naturally we were expecting this sort of response, and Nolin and Avia positioned themselves to block the encroaching undead horde, creating the perfect choke point and frustrating the giant zombies in the process.

I began to channel positive energy towards the advancing foes as Rarallo zapped a number of them with a lightening bolt. This had the unexpected, but welcome outcome of vaporizing any corpses that had not yet been animated by the headless head of the army of undead.

The fighters began to slug it out with the front line undead giants while Trask attacked them with fire and Rarallo with electricity. At one point Rarallo charged into the cold room, only to be pummelled and chased back, which created the perfect opportunity for me to step in and channel waves of energy over all the occupants in the room a couple of times.

In the mean while Kane was providing healing support for the fighters (and sundry), while Rigel and Sabin watched our back sides in case the “forge monster” made a reappearance.

Headless seemed to be getting angry by now and raised another axe and pointed it at Nolin, draining energy from him, but before the ogre could deal any other attacks Trask finished it off with a volley of magic missiles.

Oddly enough the ogre corpse remained evil even after it had dropped. It wasn’t its possessions, which we had promptly removed, and so Avia hacked the body into many (many) little pieces, and dispersed them throughout the room.

[760][761] +1 rune encrusted battle axes — once a day the wielder can call upon the runes to inflict 1D6 negative energy for 5 rounds A DC12 Fortitude save must be made or the target will suffer -1 Strength. There was also some effect for undead, but I was unclear on this.

[761] +1 full plate (large)

There were also seven sets of master work heavy steel shields, plate, and half plate, which we left for later retrieval.

Meanwhile I used a Create Water spell to try and put out the fire under the cauldron, reasoning anything boiling within was brewing for some nefarious acts of evil.

At this point in time our “forge fiend” (as Rarallo called it) returned next to Sabin and Kane, and it bit Sabin, chewing on his mithral shirt.

“Why are you giving me so much trouble? You don’t even taste good.”

It then glanced at Kane, who turned to stone(!), and a wall of flame appeared around it before it passed back through the wall.

We quickly discussed our options, and because Trask knew Teleportation he could take the stoned Kane with him to a large city and have him restored via Flesh to Stone. He could also in theory return with additional magic items that could help us battle this creature.

But before we could take action it was back again. It had been listening to us from the rock and cast a Dimensional Anchor spell on Trask.

“You are actually kind of fun.”

Rarallo created a mound of black tentacles at its feet, but it strode through them unencumbered and belched forth another font of liquid hot metal at Rarallo and Sabin.

I was summoning an earth elemental to block its escape back into the wall when Avia stepped forward and beat the living coals out of it — literally. It fell into a cooling pile of ash and metal fragments.

When the elemental appeared I sent it further down the passageway to explore, and it reported back that there was a large hall with many doors, all closed.

I then used multiple Create Water spells to extinguish the fire beneath the cauldron, and cooled the cauldron down. With Sabin’s assistance I was able to look over the lip of the enormous pot to find some disgusting thick and lumpy fluid within. I used additional Create Water spells to fill the cauldron and dilute its contents to what we hoped was a less potent stew.

But we needed to restore Kane as quickly as possible, and so Trask took him and Rigel (naturally) back home with him to Korvosa, where he hoped his father (a more advanced magic user by Trask’s account) could assist in returning Kane to life.

The rest of us explored the room next to us, which was twenty feet square, and had a ceiling that rose up, like an silo, some hundred feet above. We could fathom no purpose for the room. Beyond this room was a hallway leading to the northeast, and we were about to head down it when a soft pop sounded back in the cold room.

Trask had returned, and with him was a very much alive and well Kane, and of course a very relieved looking Rigel. I suspect she had held onto his cold stony hand all the way to Korvosa. Trask’s father wasn’t at home, or wasn’t too helpful, and so Trask had to enter the city itself to find the appropriate scroll while Rigel stood vigil over Kane. But all worked out and in the end they all returned with an extra scroll of Stone to Flesh, just in case.

Reunited we followed the passageway to a large hall with many doors, just as the elemental had described. The far eastern side of the hall was choked with debris from a cave in, although someone had been digging through the rubble and a large crack was open to the north.

The walls of the hall were engraved with Thassilonian writings, and reading them I felt a wonderful sense of calmness and serenity. The runes possessed an enchantment, and seemed dedicated to something known as the peacock spirit. But other than a joyous sense of peace, I gained nothing from reading them.

We snooped around the crack when we heard the sound of several things growling, like very large and angry dogs. I sealed the crack with a wall of stone, but one moment later a vicious looking dog-like thing had passed through my wall and stood snarling before us.

Avia and Sabin hacked at it as I hit it with an icicle and Trask singed it with fire. It passed back through the door.

Kane had been standing next to a door near the crack, and from beyond he heard more growling, as if he were overhearing a doggy debate. Using Comprehend Languages Kane learned that these dog things were being held against their will, and that somehow the stone wall I had created provided a way for them to escape… but they noted that we “brought fire” with some concern.

Only then did I realize that unlike the rounded corners in the hall, my wall simply abutted the floor and ceiling, and so using Stone Shape I remedied that.

At the far western end of the hall was a large set of bronze double doors. There were no hinges or locks, but its surface was silvered, and there was a sihedron shaped depression, just large enough to accept one of the sihedron medallions we carried. It was magical and gave off the aura of conjuration.

We strongly suspected that beyond this was Mokmurian’s library, and no doubt the evil giant himself.

We decided to first explore the other doors first.

The southern double doors on opened onto another cave-in.

The northern double doors door held an arcane lock, which Rigel disabled, and led to another set of double doors, which were also locked. Once that was taken care of we opened the inner doors only to find a wall of stone. And moments later another canine creature was snarling before us. Some of us held it at bay with various magic attacks while others slammed the doors closed upon it. Apparently the oddly curved doors and walls prevented them from escaping.

We are now looking over to the large bronze double doors at the western end of the hall and discussing strategy for how to face what we suspect lies beyond.

== Moonday, Sarenith 30, 4708; Iron Peaks; evening ==

We had hoped the wyvern caverns led under Jorgenfist, but they dead ended some yards back.
But still they offered no small amount of protection and concealment, and we decided we
would use them as our base for the rest of the day — that is once we moved the large winged
lizard corpses out of the way.

And in moving the wyverns into a side tunnel we found, among the litter of skulls, bones and
hide, a chest filled with a number of interesting goodies.

[729] bag of coins, containing:

1435 gold pieces
2987 silver pieces

[730] magic staff with a small glowing orb at the top, filled with swirling clouds of black and grey (it looked like a stormy sky).

The staff contained an intriguing set of spells, any of which could be cast by expending a number of charges:

• Air Walk (uses 2 charges)
• Control Wind (uses 2 charges)
• Gust of Wind (uses 1 charge)
• Spike Stones (uses 2 charges)
• Stone Shape (uses 1 charge)

The staff had 7 charges remaining.

As we were stashing our new found loot, Rigel motioned for us all to be quit. “I hear something outside,” she whispered, “I think someone is singing!”

Sabin and I crept outside the cave, where we heard an eerie melody drifting down from a trio of flying beasts: harpies! And yet their focus was not on us, but rather on something or someone else on the plain several hundred feet above.

There was a sudden flash as flickering arcs of electricity shot out and struck the harpies, who suddenly swept in and pulled someone off the cliff directly overhead.

The figure plummeted for a moment before suddenly slowing its descent, settling on the lip of the cave next to us. Sabin had cast Featherfall on him, thus saving his life… but who was he?

The rest of the party had hastened out after hearing the crack of lightening, and Nolin held the stunned figure securely while Avia cast a critical eye upon him. “Well, he’s not evil.”

Indeed not, but then who was he, and what the hell was he doing wandering about Jorgenfist while cavorting with harpies?

He was an elf, or maybe half elf (I was never very good at spotting the differences) dressed in silk clothing traced with ornate lines and patterns over it, and a light weight cloak draped about his shoulders. He looked fragile, but perhaps that was only in contrast to Nolin, Avia and Sabin who were all standing next to him.

Clearly not a fighter then.

Our non evil not fighter introduced himself as Rarallo, a sorcerer of no modest abilities (at least according to him). He had been hired by the Rodderick’s Cove city council to investigate the recent rash of giant incursions, and to resolve the issue if possible, or report back if the problem was bigger than he could handle alone.

Up until now Rarallo had used stealth to sneak into the valley, and was sneaking up onto the fortress when the harpies spotted him and lured him to the cliff’s edge with their singing. He had broken from their enchantment just before falling, and sent a bolt of lightening toward them. But they had swooped in and toppled him over the edge before he could escape.

He was quite grateful to Sabin for breaking his fall, and to the rest of us for not pummeling him senseless once he had safely landed.

We briefly exchanged information about our two similar missions, and Rarallo eagerly accepted our proposal to join forces to take down Mokmurian.

I had been aware of a flurry of motion behind me as soon as Rarallo had said “sorcerer”, and turning around I saw Trask hopping from foot to foot, and madly fidgeting as if he were in desperate need of relieving himself.

As the rest of us gave our new ally a little space, Trask converged upon him and spent several hours in deep (mostly one sided) conversation about which spells he was able to cast, what spells he found to be most effective in particular situations, the latest style in component pouches (flaps or buttons?), and did he have trouble talking with girls too?

The rest of us turned our attention to planning our encounter with the dragon in the morning. We compiled a list of spells and tactics likely to be useful in fighting a large, winged, spell casting, fire breathing creature with an amazing intellect; and came away feeling we probably had a good chance of defeating the dragon with only minimal casualties (after we had liberally redefined minimal casualties to mean losing half the party).

Trask seemed somewhat conflicted in that his primary offensive contribution to our battles involved fire based spells, which were not likely to be very effective against a red dragon. While at the same time he was going to get to actually meet a red dragon, but then he was going to help try and kill it.

We settled in to our usual watches, with Rarallo and I taking the first shift, during which time we talked further about the morning’s encounter with a dragon and the possible outcomes.

We arose early the next day and quietly slipped out from the cavern, dropping down to the river bank using a combination of Fly and Air Walk. We walked along the Muschkal to where low peaks rose up to where the dragon had made his lair, and then took to the air again.

A hundred feet or so from the cave entrance we cast a number of defensive and protective spells (mostly against fire), and then crept into the gaping maw of the dragon’s abode.

We had hoped to catch him napping, or at least unaware, and to cast additional spells to aid us in combat, and possibly even surround him before he woke, getting in a few unanswered attacks.

We did none of those things.

Instead we drifted down a long, wide and tall hallway for nearly a hundred yards, when the cavern opened into an expansive chamber that stretched away into the darkness on all sides. Then a low, deep rumbling voice spoke out, “Well, this is a surprise. I haven’t smelled humans since Sandpoint.”

We had, in the early phase of our planning the day before, briefly discussed simply talking with the dragon, and came up with a number of stories to present to convince the dragon to help us defeat Mokmurian, or at least not hinder our efforts. But we didn’t really think that a red dragon would be willing to negotiate, or be a trustworthy ally, and so we did not spend much time fleshing out details on any of the potential back stories we could use.

Quickly Nolin launched into the first of these, saying Mokmurian had sent us to find out why the dragon had allowed himself to be driven away by the white dragon he encountered in the raid Sandpoint.

The dragon was more than a little skeptical, and it became obvious that the truth might aid us in gaining his confidence and assistance.

I asked if we might approach to talk with him, and he agreed. We brought our our magical torches and came forward… and gaped in wonder at the vast horde of gold, silver, platinum and gem stones upon which the dragon had made his bed.

The dragon said we could call him “Longtooth”, and up close we could see that while he was not an especially large red dragon, he was still especially large. He wore a ring on one claw, and a silver arm band on his foreleg. About his neck was hung an obsidian amulet. He smelled strongly of sulphur, and acrid vapors wafted out from his nostrils.

I stated that we were in fact here to kill Mokmurian, and had hoped to gain an ally in the dragon for this effort. I then relayed the attitude our (now deceased) giant guide had expressed that the dragon was a mere servant to the mighty Mokmurian, who had soundly thrashed him in combat. I then asked why one as mighty as he would stoop to serving a giant.

As luck would have it, we had hit a nerve.

Longtooth raged about how he and Mokmurian were equal partners, and yet Mokmurian and his ilk did not treat him with the proper respect. Indeed the giant had inflicted a great amount of physical pain and damage upon the dragon after he had returned from Sandpoint.

We were all surprised to hear a small voice from behind squeak, “I have a healing potion you can have.” And with that Rigel, legs shaking so hard we could hear her knees knocking together, came forward and offered Longtooth a potion. He sniffed the vial suspiciously before quaffing the contents in a single swig, sighing contentedly as it took affect.

Rigel then bowed low, and without as much as a single covetous look at the incredible treasure before her, crept slowly back to the party. This was so unlike Rigel that I wondered if she were under some sort of enchantment. Or perhaps she was simply so impressed with this creature and its great store of treasure that she was simply paying it homage in her own way.

But no matter, her action had put the dragon in a better frame of mind, at least towards us and our request. Longtooth agreed that if and when we attacked Mokmurian, he would turn a blind eye and remain here in his chamber.

He also offered some inside information about Mokmurian, the fortress, and the forces we could expect to encounter within.

With giants, magical abilities come naturally, and usually result in physical deformities as an individual’s magical powers increase. Mokmurian is different in that his magical abilities came from study — he has access to a rich source of information from over the centuries. Longtooth admitted that Mokmurian’s magical skill outmatched his own.

The black tower itself was feared by the giants, and some evil power kept all but the harpies away. The harpies were either immune to or worked in conjunction with that power, and had an arrangement with Mokmurian that they could remain (un-harassed by him) as long as they did not harm any giants. This courtesy, however, did not extend to the ogres in the camps.

While the fortress above ground looked impressive, the bulk of Mokmurian’s stronghold was below ground, and most of his special servants lived down there with him.

He had helped Mokmurian capture a pair of young red dragons (apparently there’s a bit of a “tough love” attitude among dragons, and if you let yourself be suckered in by one of your own, well that’s you’re own fault — maybe you won’t be so gullible next time) for some purpose of his own.

The wyverns (he was impressed we had slain them) did not serve the giants, and their cavern was isolated.

The insect caves, however, did lead into the underground complex, but it was guarded by an abomination of undead spider like creatures. If we could get past them, then this was our best way to enter Mokmurian’s lair undetected.

For his part in the defeat of Mokmurian, Longtooth expected a share of the treasure and items we found. We agreed to his terms (what choice did we have, really?) and thanked him for the information he had provided.

And so we returned to our old camp in the wyverns’ cave to prepare for an assault on the insect cave. It is still quite early in the day, but we had expended quite a few spells in preparation for what we thought would be a battle with a dragon, and we thought it best to enter the stronghold with every possible advantage.

Most of the day was spent going through our inventory and discussing what we had learned from Longtooth. We also took the fire opal we had found earlier, but were reluctant to touch.

[610] fire opal

Rarallo is getting along well with everyone, although I have noticed he tends to avoid engaging Trask in conversation. Night has finally fallen and he and I once again began the night watch.

== Toilday, Erastus 1, 4708; Mokmurian’s Underground Lair; late morning ==

We used our usual combination of spells to climb up from the wyvern cave to the bug cave. Insects and (mostly) arachnids of all shapes and varieties wriggled about in a living mat of disgusting crawling critters, covering the rocky surfaces from floor to ceiling.

A fireball, courtesy of Trask (when it comes to fire, who else would you call?), cleared the first forty feet of the cave, but from deeper within we could hear disturbingly loud clicking, clacking and squealing noises coming from something large and unhappy.

Peering in we saw a huge spider, with a massive swollen body filling most of the cavern in which it squatted. Its rotting, bloated sack like body had gaping holes in its exoskeleton, through which thousands of smaller spiders swarmed, brining with them the fetid, decayed stench of the undead. It darted forward on knobby jointed legs, with venomous spittle frothing at its mouth.

Trask sent forth another fireball at the same moment Rarallo launched an exploding ball of electrical fire, both severely scorching the spider and revealing another pair behind it.

Sabin finished off the lead monstrosity with his axe, and as it fell its spider swarm entourage dissipated into the gloom.

A large corpse spider rushed over, vomiting up a stream of shiny black spiders with vibrant red hour glass shapes on their bellies. Sabin was still floating from an Air Walk spell, and the spiders could not get at him, but the swarm climbed onto Rigel and began to bite her.

The other massive spider charged Nolin and Avia, biting and striking at them.

Our fighters continued to hack at them, while Rarallo sent multiple arcs of electrical current through the spiders, and Trask torched their back sides with fireballs.

The magical and physical onslaught proved too great, and the the horrid beasts soon fell, leaving a close woven net of webbing behind them.

Trask burned away the webs with a flaming sphere, and amidst the remains of hapless creatures that had wandered into the spiders’ cave over the years we found a number of useful items.

[611] +1 long sword
[612] +2 halberd
[613] staff of rusting grasp

Kane discovered a secret door at the back end of the cave, which opened onto a rough hewn, narrow passageway. The passage plunged straight back from the cliff face, branching a short distance in. In both directions we could see additional branches forking to the left and right off into the darkness.

Given the size of the passages, Kane was the best candidate for scouting on ahead, and so he set off to explore them alone. He took the right fork, and continued on, staying to the right through two more junctions before pausing momentarily at a three way fork. From behind he heard a tiny voice shout out, “Kill him!” as he felt something sharp stab him in the back of the leg.

Turning around he saw a par of red caps, those diminutive terrors of the deep, and as he raised his knife to attack, the pip squeaks saw his holy symbol and chirped, “Desna!” before running away down another narrow cavern.

Kane then returned to us before heading back out again, but this time sticking to the left. After twisting about for some distance this side simply forked once, with either way dead ending shortly thereafter.

These twisty passages made up a sort of maze that provided yet another level of defense for entering the fortress from below.

We decided to tackle the puzzle as a group so we could defend against any further red cap attacks (or worse). This time we started down the right hand passage, but stuck to the left forks.

Once again luck was with us, and after taking the left branch at the three way junction, the passage wound its way further in and around for quite some distance. And then, not far ahead we could see the dim glow of torch light, and heard the sound of steel against stone.

We did not much fancy engaging any opponent while in the narrow crack of a passageway, we opted for the element of surprise and charged up the tunnel and into the room from whence the light came.

There, in the center of a large chamber was a small kobold, holding a spear, which it was sharpening on a stone.

We looked at it and it looked at us. We hefted our weapons and it gave us an angry look before it began to shake violently and to foam at the mouth.

The little runt charged straight at Avia, who accommodated it by slashing at it. Nolin did the same, as did Sabin, and still the little rat was standing and jabbing away with its little spear.

Then from an opening to the east we heard in giant, “What’s going on down there?”

I attempted to squeak back in giant, doing the best kobold impersonation I could muster, “Rats!” But my performance was rather feeble, and I could hear the sounds of heavy footfalls coming towards us.

A kobold is one thing — even a barbarian kobold in mid rage borders on cute in a pathetic, grotesque sort of way — but a giant is something to take seriously. I turned back to my companions to see Rigel send an arrow through the little guy’s eye, permanently resolving its anger management issues, and signaled to them all that we had large scale incoming trouble.

But it wasn’t a giant that came trotting over, it was a squad of ogres. Rarallo deftly send a lightening bolt through two ogres and it continued on down the dark hallway beyond, from where we heard a loud interjection followed by, “What the hell!” in giant.

Trask vanished while Nolin, Sabin and Avia stepped up to prevent the ogres (and sundry) from storming into the chamber and overwhelming us. Rarallo sent another lightening bolt through the ogres and into the unseen giant, eliciting another string of profanities.

A fireball exploded somewhere behind the ogres, felling many, and letting us know that Trask was at work.

Just as the ogre force was dwindling, a squad of giants charged up and began to beat on our fighters, who ferociously fought back. Rarallo and Trask continued to make effective use of fire and electricity while Rigel peppered the giants with arrows. Kane and I, after each of us failed to stop a giant with a Hold Person spell, kept our fighters healed, and listened for any unexpected arrivals from the, thus far unexplored, north passage.

The squad of giants was whittled down to one, and Trask erected a wall of fire to keep it from escaping to the east, while the fighters closed with it. But it ran to a chamber to the south and yelled out for help.

While all of this was going on, I had been peering through the wall of fire, looking to see if any new threat should appear. And of course it did. A lamia (not a matriarch, thank goodness) peered into the room before retreating back into the darkness.

The southern room was a forge of some sort, and two giants had been working there when the fighting started. They picked rocks and began to hurl them at us, doing a great deal of damage. But our fighters pressed in close and hacked away at them until both of the stone chuckers as well as the captain dropped.

There were three forges in the southern chamber, with a large bellows for each. The bellows set up to be operated by slaves held in three cages in the room. Dwarves, without beards, were in the cages and looked at us warily.

At that moment Rigel arrived, and somewhere in her past she must have lived with a dwarf, or studied their ways because she could actually speak there language, and excitedly told them that we had rescued them and that they were safe.

We let them out of their cages, Kane created food and water for them, which they eagerly accepted. They could actually speak common, and told us that the giants had captured them in a raiding party months before, and had humiliated them by shaving off their beards and then forced them to work at the bellows here in the forge ever since.

Later I found out that Rigel’s grasp of the dwarven tongue was not quite as strong as she may think, and her exclamations and reassurances were more along the lines of, “Me big proud pants sitting you on free to go! Enjoy the flaccidity I bring to you of freedom.”

We gave the dwarves some weapons and directions for how to get out via the spider cave. We also gave them some gold and ropes so they could climb down to the river and make good their escape. Or, in the words of Rigel, “You go now with no clothing, with your lose bits hanging freely in the breeze.”

The dwarves were tired, and agreed to watch our backs in the kobold room while they rested.

The team then searched the giant and ogre bodies for anything that might be of use.

[731] bag of gems
[732] potion of Bull’s Strength

The kobold warrior was also searched, and his pint sized gear was also taken:

[???] necklace
[???] breast plate
[???] buckler
[???] bag on a belt

But we had been spotted by the fleeing lamia, and felt needed to act swiftly to prevent an alarm from being sounded. The wall of fire expired and we hurriedly made our way through a large long hall with walls streaked with glittering veins of mica, that had served as the barracks for the giants.

The passage narrowed and bent to the southeast, but another passageway branched off to the north, and from that direction wafted in the smell of incense and the soft sound of a lute. Recent tracks made in the dusty floor led north.

We went that way.

We followed the northern passage as it widened into a room that stretched eastward. Rarallo became invisible as we prepared for battle. From around a corner we could here someone chanting in Thassilonian, “Oh great is the mother of monsters, we who are your servants shall prepare your way.”

We peeked around the corner and say at the far eastern end of the room was an altar, and near the altar were three lamia. Their tawny lion bodies looked dangerous, but they also had the upper torsos of women, skilled in both combat and spells… and apparently music. The beast closest to the altar was playing the lute.

Incense was burning in a pair of braziers, one at either side of the altar, and the smoke had a metallic tang that lent a dream like air to the room.

The room itself was painted in swirling patterns of rich blues and purples, which were the tokens of Desna; but also present were statues of a three headed jackal and figures of monstrous bats, which was for Lamashtu.

From somewhere unseen Rarallo launched a blast of electricity, but we were dubious that it had much, or any effect, because the only response from our foes was, “Well, sisters, maybe they are not here to convert to Lamashtu after all, but they will make great sacrifices!”

With that two of the lamia moved forward to attack, while the lute player remained near the altar. These creatures were formidable foes, and their touch could (and did) drain will power. That plus their lion bodies gave them incredible speed and strength.

On top of this all three of them seemed blurred, making it difficult to focus on them.

Avia and Sabin engaged the first, while Nolin attacked on the second. Trask and Rarallo Trask using magic to strike at these two, while Rigel was shooting arrows at them.

The lute player began to chant, and suddenly a wave of cold washed over us, sapping our health and causing Sabin to go blind.

I summoned a dire lion to keep the lute player occupied, but it was caught in Rarallo’s friendly fire, making it easy prey to the lamia. Still, it was one less round during which she could cast a spell.

The battle was fierce, but one by one we dropped the mirror images of the lamia followed by the lamia themselves. Afterward we managed to restore the lost wisdom and health, and cure Sabin of his blindness.

We spent a few minutes looking over the bodies and room for anything useful, and discovered that the “girls” had been equally well equipped.

[733] +2 magic flail
[736] +2 magic flail
[737] +2 magic flail
[734] +2 headband of wisdom (Kane)
[738] +2 headband of wisdom (Avia)
[739] +2 headband of wisdom (Nolin)
[735] +2 ring of protection (Rigel)
[740] +2 ring of protection (Avia)
[741] +2 ring of protection (Sabin)

The influx of extra rings of protection also meant that I was now wearing a +1 ring of protection.

The braziers were exquisitely smithed silver laced with mithril, and quite valuable, so so after snuffing out the burning incense, we nabbed them as well.

[742] silver and mithril brazier
[742] silver and mithril brazier

Rigel discovered that the altar had been dragged against the wall, and when it was moved she found a small secret compartment full of papers. There was a magical scroll, but of more interest was a beautifully illustrated tome describing how to torture and kill virtually any creature — a rather grisly, although possibly useful discovery.

[744] illustrated tome on torture
[745] scroll of remove curse

There was an exit from this room to the north, and from there Kane heard a pair of low, gravelly voices speaking. We all listened, and Sabin recognized the language as draconic (which fortunately he speaks, although why I would like to hear — there must be an interesting story there).

“Remind me again why we let them do this to our scales? You don’t see anyone else with it.”

“You are wrong, you do see the star sign on their skin. And besides, the sisters said it was good.”

“Oh, that’s right, they would never let anything bad be done to us.”

We had found the two red dragonettes Longtooth had spoken of.

Cautiously Sabin, Kane and I entered the next chamber, with Sabin announcing in draconic that we were allies come to set them free. They seem quite confused by this, and when it was obvious they did not understand common I tried to reassure them in giant. Unfortunately they didn’t know giant either, and only associated it with their oppressors, and so my efforts only fueled their unease.

Sabin was able to convince them that neither the giants nor “the sisters”, as they called the lamia trio, were their friends, and that Longtooth had asked us to tell them that Mokmurian was no worthy for them to follow, and that they should escape.

At some point in time Trask breathed fire (there is definitely something odd going on with that boy), after which the dragonettes then had show how him how it properly done, and thus ensued a short round of one upmanship.

We sent them back the way we had come before realizing the dwarves were still standing guard in the kobold room, and so we rushed out, only to find the dragons relishing a meal of freshly killed lamia. We found the dwarves and sent them on their way to freedom (Rigel, “You go now, make swift pitter pat in trousers!”)

There was a tunnel leading from the dragons’ chamber, which they said lead “out”, and so seeking a place to recover from a morning filled with giant undead spiders, a berserker kobold, ogres, giants, and a trio of lamia, we followed the tunnel to the west.

The tunnel widened and branched in many directions. And there, at the junction, an elderly solitary giantess beckoned to us from an alcove. She did not appear to be hostile, and seemed to want to be as quiet as possible.

This we did not expect, and so we approached to see what she wanted.

Her name was Conna, and she and her husband were the elders of their giant tribe. Mokmurian’s tribe. Giants belong to tribes, and it is the village elders who curb the hot headed impetuous nature of youth, which allows giant kind to live in relative peace with other peoples. Traditionally the tribal elders were respected, and to cross an elder was a serious offense.

But Mokmurian had picked up strange ideas and magical abilities from unnatural sources. He did not believe in the traditions of his people, and when he began to gather an army of youngsters and to invade neighboring areas, her husband tried to stop him. But Mokmurian killed him. Killed an elder!

She was forced to serve Mokmurian, but she hated him. Hated him for killing her husband, and hated him for the harm she saw him doing to giant kind. She feared he was under the influence of an older power: one that he worshipped called Karzug.

At the mention of this name a chill ran down my spine. Was this not the name of one of the ancient rune lords?

And while Mokmurian may have been in over his head (Conna believed the lamia were not his servants, and were in fact keeping an eye on him), he still embraced these new immoral and evil ways. Giants who defy Mokmurian are brought to him, and are changed… changed such that they should no longer be alive.

Mokmurian now spends all of his time in this underground complex, and hardly ever goes above ground.

If we were seeking Mokmurian’s destruction, then she would aid us, both for vengeance of her husband, and here she stopped and looked around the room, which I realized was set up as a shrine him, and to fulfill her duty as Mokmurian’s tribal elder.

She thought that once Mokmurian was gone, the other giants in the camps above would eventually lose interest and wander back home to their own tribes.

Maps of the underground fortress she could provide, as well as advice, and some magical assistance (she had developed her magical powers the natural way). She could also provide us with an out of the way corner where we could camp. The other giants shunned this area because the spirit of her murdered husband lingered in this place.

Conna seemed like a kind and wise soul, even without considering she was a giant, and I felt like she could be trusted. We gratefully accepted her offer of assistance, and are even now deciding where best to use a Rope Trick for shelter, and what and how best Conna could aid us.

== Fireday, Sarenith 20, 4708; Lampblack River; evening ==

The sun has set and dinner finished as we are settled about the brightly burning camp fire discussing the journey ahead. Nearby, the Lampblack gurgles soft but incessantly on its languid approach to Ember Lake. There is the occasional bump of our barge against the tree stump to which it is moored, and the creaking of deck boards as the barge-man on watch shifts his weight.

We are one day’s journey north from Wolf’s Ear, where only this morning we had arranged for our horses to be taken to Galduria for long term boarding while we chartered a barge and crew to take us up the Lamplack River to the foot of the Storval Stairs.

Once underway we had little to do, other than offer a turn at the poles the barge-men use to move the vessel against the flow of the river. The day passed slowly in this way as the eastern border of the Churlwood slipped by on the left and a scrubby grassland opened up to our right.

We are about to prepare for our own watch and an evening of rest from a day of tedium.

== Starday, Sarenith 21, 4708; Lampblack River; evening ==

Another day on the river has passed much like the one before. By late afternoon the eves of the Churlwood on our left began to recede as the river turned eastward and a steep bank of bracken rose up in its place.

It is dark, and off in the distance we can see a camp fire flickering orange in the night. Our guides seem unconcerned, and say it is most likely just a band of Shoanti traders, with a glance in my direction.

We had entered the lands of my own people, the Shiikirri-Quah, or “Hawk Clan”, one of the seven clans of the Shoanti. And yet I have no recollections of this place, having left when I was but two.

My tribe are the great traders and diplomats for our race, keeping open the trade routes and relations between the Shoanti and the other Varisian peoples.

Our great caravans circle the continent of Varisia, with each circuit taking many years to complete. My parents’ caravan left these lands a quarter a century ago, and began the Long Trek. And they will not complete their journey until they have passed through the Velashu Uplands and then the Nolands to the far north. At last they will return to their home, and the responsibility of the following Trek will belong to the next generation, and so it goes in an endless cycle.

The last I heard from my family they had passed through Roderick’s Cove and were following the coast to Riddleport. There is at least some comfort in knowing they have passed from the these lands before the giant incursions began in earnest.

== Sunday, Sarenith 22, 4708; Lampblack River; evening ==

By mid morning we began to pass through a more civilized country, with tilled fields and vineyards on either side of the river. Simple farm houses and out buildings began to dot the landscape and by noon we had arrived at the village of Ravenmoor.

While about the same size of Wolf’s Ear, Ravenmoor has held up much better than its distant neighbor, which at first was a bit of a puzzle, considering its closer proximity to the giants’ homeland. There were only a few signs of recently damaged buildings, evidenced only by the new repair work that had already been completed.

The barge was tied up at a busy quay and our crew left a guard and disembarked to purchase provisions. We took advantage of landfall in civilization and went in search of food and drink. After that we planned to talk with the town elders to find from them the latest news about the giants in these parts, and to inform them of the recent events in Sandpoint.

Walking up the main thoroughfare from the river to the pub we saw traders, farmers, and merchants going about their daily business. They all had the look of hardy individuals who were used to fending for themselves in a rough land.

Ravenmoor’s single pub was well kept, and well patronized by locals and visitors alike. A group of Shiikirri-Quah traders were seated at a corner table and after looking over the party gave a curt nod to me. The pub also seemed to be a popular location from which to conduct business, which Nolin observed while discretely watching an unremarkable transaction.

The barkeep was a talkative fellow (perhaps related to Trask?) who spoke about the unusual nature of the current giant hostilities, and how odd it was for giants to work with ogres and trolls. He concluded that in the past the giants had been quite reasonable, and mostly stuck to their side of “the wall” (the locals’ name for the great escarpment jutting up to the Storval Plateau).

We asked about the local leaders, and in particular the local clerics, but oddly enough the locals, including our loquacious barkeep, always seemed to turn the conversation other topics when we strayed onto this path.

Kane then realized that he hadn’t seen any temples on the way up from the river, and after a moment of scanning the customers, Avia said that there seemed to be a lot more people here of the evil persuasion than usual.

Not the headache inducing, MUST KILL NOW level of evil we often encounter, but still enough to be noteworthy. We speculated that living here on the edge of the wild, caught between giants and brigands as they were, the locals picked up an every man for himself mind set as a survival instinct.

We did find out where the town elders met each day, and so Nolin, Avia and I went out to talk with them while the rest of our party remained at the pub.

(I later learned that Trask set out in search of other arcane magic users with which to talk shop, and met woman who took care of the community’s magical needs, but I gathered that the conversation did not go as well as Trask had hoped).

The elders (more evil than the regular citizenry, but still not alarmingly so) were polite and listened to our account of the giant’s attack on Sandpoint, and did take to heart our warning about worse troubles ahead. They also shared with us some additional information about giants in general and our destination in particular.

They were quite skeptical about the reported magical powers of Mokmurian, because it was rare, and in the past giants who have possessed these abilities were in some way deformed. I pulled out Barl Breakbones head and told them we had fought this giant in battle and had witnessed his use of magic first hand.

They were a little puzzled by this, because Barl’s head showed no obvious deformities (other than missing its body, for which we were responsible), but then one of them pointed out how Barl’s head was significantly smaller than the heads of most adult stone giants.

As for our destination, the Black Tower was an ancient Thassilonian ruin, and legend had it that the ancient magic was still present and active there. They recommended that we abandon or quest, if we wanted to live.

On the way back to the barge we noticed that in addition to temples, Ravenmoor was also lacking in hotels, inns (the pub offered no rooms) or any other place for overnight accommodation of visitors. We asked our guides about this and they said that only locals stayed overnight, and visitors made sure they were well away by nightfall. Interesting.

Back on the river we slowly pushed up stream and into the wild.

== Moonday, Sarenith 23, 4708; Lampblack River; evening ==

An uneventful day on the river. Around mid day we spied a long line of traders and their wagons off in the distance, but they were too far away to hail for information (or company).

We spent most of our time fishing, and for the first time since taking to the river were able to catch enough for all at dinner. Camp was a more festive occasion than it has been, with bottles of a fine white Ravenmoor wine brought out to help celebrate the bounty of the river.

== Toilday, Sarenith 24, 4708; Lampblack River; evening ==

Perhaps an hour after setting out this morning we passed a band of ogres who had been hiding in the scrub on the south bank. They watched us for a while, and some of them attempted to keep up with the barge as we all took to the poles to put some distance between us. After a while the ogres lost interest and turned back to whatever it was they were doing before we interrupted them.

I asked the barge-men about this reach of the river, and how often they came this way.

“There is regular trade between Wolf’s Ear and Ravenmoor, and so we often ply the lower stretch of the Lampblack, but there are always people who want to see the great fall and the Storval Stairs for themselves. Just last year a wealthy family from down south came up, children and all, just to gawk at the ruins around the stairs. The adults were telling their children the history of the place… although why they couldn’t tell them about it from the safety of their own homes rather than dragging them out here I can’t say. Anyway, the whole place was made in giant territory, by giant hands to be used by giants.

No fire tonight.

== Wealday, Sarenith 25, 4708; Storval Stairs; evening ==

We reached the water fall at mid day, and is was as breathtakingly beautiful as promised. Here the Lampblack rushed out over the abrupt end of the Storval Plateau and plunged down a thousand feet into the rocky pool at the base of the wall. It was a bright sunny day, but mists shrouded everything about the river for hundreds of feet.

The stairs were a good hike away, and so we bid our faithful crew farewell, telling them we would send a message when we were ready to be picked up. They seemed doubtful that they would ever see us again.

The cliff is a wall of red sandstone rising up in an almost vertical ascent to the heights above, but as we walked south it gradually dropped until we reached the stairs around mid afternoon.

Here hundreds of broad steps had been carved into the cliff, scaling up some four hundred feet in a couple hundred steps to the top. A pair of great statues had been erected on either side at the foot of the stairs, towering the full height of the cliff. They depicted the same image: a humanoid with a staff in one hand and a book with a sihedron rune on the cover in the other.

Ruins of an ancient giant city or fortress that had also been carved into the cliff were on the north and south side of the stairs, but those to the south bore the effects of time and the elements more severely than those to the north. The southern statue was also more damaged than its northern counterpart. With this in mind we thought the southern ruins might be patrolled less often or vigilantly than the north, and so would hold the best hiding place to camp.

Trask, with Kane clinging to his shoulders, flew up to the top of the stairs a hundred feet out and saw three giants standing guard (they looked bored), and a large building they were using as a fort. They then drifted over to the southern ruins and looked for a suitable place for us to spend the night.

Meanwhile Rigel and I explored the ruins near us, from which a horrid stench was wafting. We discovered a pile of troll and harpy bodies, all with their heads smashed in. No doubt these were the inhabitants the giants had displaced, and the relative freshness of the carnage indicated the giant guard had been recently established.

Using a combination of Fly, Spider Climb and Air Walk we scaled the southern cliff face to within a hundred feet of the top and set up camp for the night.

== Oathday, Sarenith 26, 4708; Storval Stairs; morning ==

The giants have been slain or have fled from the Storval Stairs, but Dereldon is dead.

It has been less than half an hour since we scaled to the top of the cliff and attacked the giants standing on guard. At first it went well, with one of the giants down the stairs wildly lobbing boulders towards us (hitting nobody and endangering his friends as much as us), and Avia and Nolin focused their attacks on one of the giants at the top of the stairs to good effect.

I cast Hold Person upon the nearest giant.

Derel then rushed over to keep the third giant busy when a fourth giant appeared next to him at the doorway to their fort. Before he could jump out of the way, or even call for help both giants had bashed him with their massive clubs, caving in the side of his head.

He was too far away for me to reach in time with Breath of Life, which would have saved him, and so he passed on while the battle raged around him. The giant standing in the doorway looked down at Derel, and I feared he would despoil his body on the spot, but instead he picked our fallen comrade up and carried him inside. Wild thoughts sprang to mind of what they could be doing — all of them unpleasant.

Just as I cast Hold Person upon a second giant, their leader ran out from the building and yelled “Halt!”, in giant, “These people may be working for us!”

“Who are you to be boldly wearing the token of Mokmurian?”, he demanded, indicating the amulet worn by Avia (Derel was wearing a similar device).

Thinking quickly, I answered back, “We are emissaries sent out by Mokmurian to spy on the human lands to the south. We were returning when we happened upon the raid of Sandpoint led by Taractynous, which ended disastrously with nearly of of the giants slain, no prisoners taken, and worse, no stones from the Old Light! We were making our way back to inform Mokmurian of Taractynous’ gross incompetence when we were attacked by these stupid imbeciles!”

I waved in the direction of the two held giants at the top of the stairs, both drooling uncontrollably, as the third made his way up from below.

The leader pondered for a moment before sullenly answering, “We will burn this body and you will not mention it to Mokmurian.”

“No, he is one of our comrades, and we must lay his body to rest following the proper rites. But we agree not to speak of this to Mokmurian.”

The other giant then stuck his poke in with, “If we kill them all, then Mokmurian will never know.”

I could see that the leader considered this the ideal solution to their problem, and so casting a Light spell on the boulder next to me I cried out, “Mokmurian, hear me! Your servants on the Storval Stairs have betrayed you!”

Trask had at the same time cast Burning Hands, which he used to make fire race up his arms as he chanted something obscure and obviously, to the giants, lethal.

A large dark stain appeared in the crotch of the leader’s leggings as he cried out, “They are all magic users, run way before they turn us into the same… or worse!”

And as quick as they could the three unrestrained giants ran down the stairs and off into the wilderness beyond.

Sabin and Rigel made sure the two remaining giants would pose no further threat (including the removal of their sihedron rune tattoos), while the rest of us gathered around Derel’s body.

We removed his possessions, and after carefully wrapping him in a cloak we placed his body in our bag of holding to keep it safe. We left the sihedron medallion hanging around his neck, which offered Gentle Repose protection until we could decide what to do with him.

I now have Derel’s haversack, which has considerably lessened the load I carry.

Searching the nearby building we found coins (37 gp, 200 sp, 300 cp), which we placed in the bag, but nothing else of interest. We came to realize that thus far all of the giants we had seen, from Barl down to this latest crew appeared to be young — as if Mokmurian’s appeal was limited to the sullen youth of his people.

Trask took to the air again and soared overhead several hundred feet to scout the lands to the east of us, where our path led. He reported that between us and the the Iron Peaks was a mostly flat and arid plane that climbed slowly to the foothills, and from there the pass through the mountains was obvious.

It is time to continue, eastward into the hazy hostile lands ahead, scorched by the sun and blurred by waves of ever mounting heat from the advancing day.

== Oathday, Sarenith 26, 4708; Foothills of the Iron Peaks; evening ==

Camp is a cold and quiet affair, with the risk of detection too great for a fire now that we are so near the Iron Peaks. We held a quiet memorial for Derel soon after sunset, with Kane and I performing the ceremony. Derel and I had joined the group at about the same time, but I feel that I never really got to know him, or what drove him in combat. He was always first in battle, often running out in front the rest of us to engage the enemy, trusting in his skill, or his deity, or fate… or us to back him up. In the end I feel that I let him down.

I still replay those moments of the battle over and over in my head. Had I been just a short distance closer or if I could move but a little faster Derel would still be alive and with us. It seems clear now that me being more fleet of foot would benefit us all, and I shall look into this at the next opportunity.

== Fireday, Sarenith 27, 4708; Iron Peaks; evening ==

Last night Trask reported seeing three dragon like creatures fly in front of the moon, heading east… towards our destination.

We marched hard all day long and finally reached the pass overlooking the valley of the dark tower. Although the sun has set we can make out a tall spire rising up from the valley floor. It is encircled by a wall set with five turrets, and within the ring are other buildings. Scattered about the circle are seven camps of giants — possibly holding upward of a hundred giants total.

Between us and the nearest camp is a tall watch tower, with a solitary giant standing guard.

The valley appears to end some distance beyond the walled ring and camps in a sheer drop — down into the Muschkal River, or so we assume. As we stared at the camp, thinking of ways to sneak in, we saw a red dragon fly in from over the river and land on a ledge high up on the far side of the valley, and then it entered a cave.

We discussed taking the fight to the dragon and sealing it in its cave so it could not escape when we heard the stomping of many heavy boots coming over the pass, and so we hid among the rocks. A band of about twenty young giants strode into view, and then marched on toward the tower, with shouts of “It’s about time!”, and, “It’s even more mighty than we were told!”

Obviously new recruits answering Mokmurian’s summons. There was a loud blast from the watch tower, and a group of giants came up from one of the camps and escorted the new comers down onto the valley floor.

Using Stone Shape I fashioned a natural looking rock blind to shelter us from the unfriendly eyes in the valley (and above), and we posted a constant watch.

Perhaps an hour after sunset the huge door to the watch tower opened, and a giantess walked out in the streaming yellow light, calling back, “Well boys, this is what rank is all about. You get to stay here for the night while I am off to have fun.” And then, with a purposeful stride, she set off down to the camps below.

== Starday, Sarenith 28, 4708; Iron Peaks; dusk ==

Once again last night Trask and Nolin saw three dragon like creatures flying about after dark. These “night dragons” seemed to be swooping down by the river and then soaring up overhead, hunting for whatever scant wildlife they can catch in these bleak, giant infested lands.

We discussed them at length this morning, coming to the conclusion (or hope) that they were in fact not dragons, but wyverns. Apparently these creatures are more like dumb beasts than their intelligent dragon cousins, and they do not breathe flames, or acid, or whatever it is that spouts from the nostrils of dragon kind. But they do have poisoned spikes on their tails.

Early this morning, just before sunrise, the giantess commander of the watch tower staggered back up from the camps. She looked as if she did indeed have a good time, and judging from the animal like grunting and squealing we heard overnight, morale among the troops was a little higher this morning.

We spent the daylight hours watching the valley, sketching the position of the black tower in relation to the other buildings, the ring wall and its towers, the watch tower, the surrounding peaks, the river, and the dragon cave. We saw no sign of the dragon itself.

The camps were segregated by races (and to to some extent sex). There was a hill giant camp, an ogre camp, an all female stone giant camp, an all male stone giant camp, and then three more stone giant camps, mostly male, but with some females among them.

Around noon we watched as some sort of punishment was carried out for a young giant who had violated some code. He was dragged, kicking and screaming, by a burly pair of giants up to the gate in the wall, where another pair of giants came out and took him. The original giant pair seemed relieved that their duties ended at the gate, and scampered back to camp quickly, while the shrieks of their charge intensified until the gate slammed shut.

Clouds are rolling in, and we have decided to move out from our current hideout to move further down the valley, but higher up in one of the caves that dot the surrounding mountains. We hope these caves are all interconnected, and will provide a means of moving around the valley unnoticed.

== Starday, Sarenith 28, 4708; Iron Peaks; night ==

The caves are just dead end holes, and so we moved on to a location near the edge of the cliff overlooking the Muschkal River. We can see the valley from here as well as the river. One thing we have noticed are a pair of dark holes peeping out from the cliff face at different points above the river. We are fairly sure the wyverns are using at least one of these as their home, but we think the caves might lead back up into a huge pit we saw near the base of the Black Tower.

== Sunday, Sarenith 29, 4708; Iron Peaks; late morning ==

After last night’s activities we plan to rest for most of today, keeping our usual watch for anything unusual. But other than the moving to and fro of the giants about the camps, thus far we have seen little of note, other than the presence of ettins in the watch tower.

Tonight we plan to enter the caves above the river.

== Sunday, Sarenith 29, 4708; Iron Peaks; dusk ==

We set out from our camp just at sunset, and using our usual combination of mobility spells made our way down to the first cave entrance, some 250 feet above the river. The smell was truly horrific, and the air was filled with a disturbing clicking sound. Sabin looked in and reported that the entire floor was carpeted with crawling and wriggling insects.

None of us wanted to go in, and so we moved down to the lower cave, which had a convenient ledge on which we could gather before moving inside. But we had barely entered when we heard the sound of scales over stone, and a wyvern crept out. It had a long snout, a pair of slender wings, and a sturdy set of back legs, but no fore limbs, like a dragon. It did, however have a nasty looking barbed tail.

It appeared unaware of us as two of its companions came up beside it, but that soon changed as Nolin, Sabin and Avia charged the creatures, while Trask set off a fireball on their back sides. I cast Prayer, and Kane stepped in with his usual wishing of luck and healing support, and Rigel stood on the ledge and shot arrow after arrow at the beasts.

Nolin lashed out and killed the first, but was rewarded with a prick from a poisoned tale, and he instantly began to feel sick.

Another fireball and another wyvern dropped dead, leaving Sabin and Avia to slay the last.

Nolin’s condition continued to worsen as we reviewed what healing abilities we had on hand to help. Unfortunately the spells used for directly combatting poison were of the same level as those we used to get us to the caves safely, and so they were not an option.

Instead I focused Pharasma’s energy into a powerful Heal spell, immediately removing all effects from the poison and bringing Nolin’s health completely back to normal.

Peering into the darkness, Sabin whispered that he saw a large fire opal partially buried in the sandy floor. Moving forward he could detect no magic, and Rigel could find no traps, but we are suspicious and have not yet dared touch the the beautiful shiny gem.

== Moonday, Sarenith 16, 4708; The Devil’s Platter; noon ==

We took the time to identify the handful of magical items taken from the fallen giant leader, and immediately put one of these to use.

[604] +2 giant hide shirt
[605] +1 heavy dwarf bane pick
[606] +1 light pick
[607] +1 ring of protection (Sabin)

I found Mayor Devlin and asked her about her abducted cousin, the paladin Gavin. She said he and his brother, Brak, had settled in Sandpoint and opened the Two Knights Brewery forty years ago. Sadly, Brak was killed in the “late unpleasantness” some years back.

This was startling news, because that earlier disturbance in the town appeared (now) to have been related to the Rune Lords, as is (apparently) our latest problem with giants. Coincidence? Perhaps.

Meanwhile Trask and Avia were dealing with the survivors of the Scarnetti family, whom Trask managed to rescue by lobbing a fireball at a trio of giants that had been hauling them away.

After a little healing from Avia they all looked like they’d live, and the old woman found hiding in the ruins of the manor turned out to be the matriarch of family. She suggested that we hang around to help the family rebuild, but when Avia said we needed to pursue the giants, she pulled out a box and opened it. Within was a large and heavy translucent red gem, which she handed to Avia with a, “We Scarnettis always remember those who help us.”

[609] large, translucent red gem (ruby?) ~1500 gp

We were anxious to follow after the giants, but I thought it best if we gather additional information if possible. The slain leader would require a Speak with Dead spell, which none of us had memorized, and so we settled for talking with the living giant we had captured.

Sabin and I entered his cell, looking as conspiratorial as we could, and tried approaching him as an agent of Mokmurian ready to help. But the giant was far too suspicious, and so I quickly changed tactics. He was obviously very much enthralled by Mokmurian, and I was able to play off his obsession.

We found that the name of the invading giant leader was Taractynous, and blame was placed squarely at his feet for the failure of the assault, what with only puny little humans standing in the giants’ way.

On Mokmurian himself our giant gushed enthusiastically. Long ago great and immensely powerful lords of magic ruled the world, subjugating even the mighty giants. Most of the great ruins found about Varisia were built by the giants (the “sons of stone”). Occasionally a giant was born with the ability to use the same powers as their masters — even long after these overlords were overthrown and their empire reduced to dust. Mokmurian was one such giant who was born with the ability to wield this ancient power.

Mokmurian could turn his enemies to stone, while making his own skin into hard as granite armor. He could even make the very ground reject his foes, flinging them into the air.

He was so great that he defeated a mighty red dragon in power, and forced it to do his will. This was in fact the same dragon that had brought fiery ruin upon Sandpoint.

He had united all giants, ogres, trolls and ettins to a single cause of taking the lowlands from the puny scum that infested them.

Mokmurian had entered the forbidden Valley of the Black Tower (a place of ill omen in giant history) and claimed it for his own. Only one such as mighty as he dared to tempt fate. And there he built a magnificent fortress, which he called Jorgenfist after the entryway to the giant’s land of the dead. Truly a blasphemous act, but so powerful is Mokmurian that he need not fear the repercussions of his actions.

As far as the stones from the Old Light, Mokmurian had commanded that they be brought to him. The stones themselves would reveal great secrets that he would find useful in his plan to reclaim all the lowlands for the giants.

If memory serves correct, in one of Olithar’s journal entries he had mentioned that the local Sandpoint arcane expert and historian, Quink, had a theory that the Old Light may have been used as a mighty weapon in ancient times. Perhaps the secret of such a weapon is what Mokmurian wished to find.

I continued to question the giant about Mokmurian, and stated that I greatly desired to see this great Lord of the giants, and to visit his mighty fortress from which he controlled all of giant kind.

From a “Read Thoughts” spell Sabin was using, I later learned that the idea of what Mokmurian would do to us tickled the giant’s fancy, and so he proposed a deal. If we would take him to the Devil’s Platter, a hard scrabble of barren rocks to the south east of Sandpoint, and released him, he would tell us how to find Jorgenfist.

I stated that this might be an acceptable agreement, if we could arrange the details with the city officials. Sabin left at this point to confer with the rest of our group. It was my intent that they would set off ahead of us and set up an ambush at the Devil’s Platter, taking down the giant after he had given us directions.

Mayor Devlin had no objections to our taking the giant out from Sandpoint and doing away with it.

And so I agreed to the giant’s terms. Sabin and I would take him to the Devil’s Platter, unharmed, and there we would release him. Neither Sabin nor I would harm him or attempt to track him down afterward.

We returned in an hour’s time and left town with the giant. The large fellow was still in chains, because the townsfolk would have been enraged to see him walking freely out of Sandpoint.

As it was there were a few knots of people standing along the way to the gate, and they shouted insults and threw stones at the giant as we passed.

Soon we were a good distance from Sandpoint and we removed the giant’s chains, and continued on to the Devil’s Platter. Along the way I continued to question the giant about Mokmurian, both to glean additional information and to make sure we could be heard from far away.

I discovered that Mokmurian was regularly sending out scouting and raiding parties, which came down the Storval Stairs and fanned out into the lowlands to the south and west.

We reached the first round top of our rocky destination, and standing in the old campsite that the invading force of giants used on the way in we stopped and the giant looked around in all directions, and then waved eastward.

“There, in the very middle of the the Iron Peaks, you will find the Valley of the Black Tower, where Jorgenfist sits in all its splendor. Head east, and climb the Storval Stairs, that great and ancient work of giant kind, and continue east. Scale the mighty heights of the Iron Peaks and find the Muschkal River. Follow that river and it will lead you to the Valley and to Jorgenfist.”

We asked if the giant was heading back now, but he said no, he could better serve Mokmurian by spying out the lands for a while longer before returning.

At this point Sabin said, rather loudly, “Well then, we are off to Jorgenfist!”

And with that the other members of our party quickly sprang out from the surrounding scrubby brush and quickly killed the giant.

Interestingly Nolin had picked up a new skill and charged in on his horse, skewering the giant like a pig on a spit.

For our part, Sabin and I kept our words and simply walked away.

After the killing was done, and the giant dead, I searched the body thoroughly and found a sihedron rune tattoo on his right shoulder. It was the same tattoo we saw on citizens of Turtleback Ferry who were regular customers of Lucretia.

What could it mean? I have no idea, but I removed the patch of skin with a knife and am keeping it with Barl’s head.

== Moonday, Sarenith 16, 4708; Road from Windsong Abbey to Galduria; evening ==

The Storval Stairs is a well known landmark, though none of us had seen it. My home is on the vast Storval Plateau, and I have been at the northern most feet of the Iron Peaks, and of course Hook Mountain, where we had slain Barl Breakbones, is the southern most outlier of that range. I knew that the Muschkal River flowed out from the mountains and feeds into the Storval Deep, but I had never seen that river, and have only seen the northern and southern extremes of the Deep itself.

We decided to head down to the Lost Coast Road and try to pick up the trail of the fleeing giants. We suspected they were making for the Storval Stairs, and aimed to overtake them before they reached it.

Our path would lead us over to the town of Galduria, some three days distant, and then up to the settlement of Wolf’s Ear. We had already planned to visit these villages as part of our original mission from Magnimar, and so this way we could kill two birds with one stone.

We found the trail of the giants we were pursuing, which mostly followed the road to Galduria, and so we set off at a good pace.

Just before stopping for camp we came across the grizzly sight of a merchants’ caravan that had been waylaid by the giants, as they had made their way to Sandpoint some days before. The pulped bodies of the victims lay about, and we took the time to bury the remains.

== Toilday, Sarenith 17, 4708; Road from Windsong Abbey to Galduria; evening ==

The weather has held steady and if it weren’t for the urgency to overtake the giants before us I would have enjoyed the ride through the bright green undulating countryside. All trees, thickets and shrubs have given way to a rich grassland stretching away as far as you can see in wave upon wave of gentle rolling hills.

Just after lunch we spotted the lumbering forms of half a dozen or more giants up ahead, perhaps a mile away. We picked up our pace a little and debated our options for engaging the enemy.

I suggested we act like drunken and unwary travelers and entice the giants to come to us. We began to sing and laugh loudly, and sure enough, the giants — there were eight: a few with bags of loot, and two others holding onto ropes binding a string of half a dozen human prisoners — stopped and watched us as we approached. Four giants came rushing towards us, and so we all dismounted, except for Nolin, and made ready for combat, singing and laughing and calling out for the giants to join us.

They did not know what to make of us, and no doubt thought that four giants were more than enough to handle the eight of us.

Avia, Sabin and Derel all waded in against one, with weapons and fists flying, while Nolin charged another on his steed. Trask used magical attacks (involving plenty of fire, which was quite effective) while Rigel was peppering them with arrows. Kane and I provided healing as needed, and the occasional supportive spell, such as Prayer, or Kane’s special lucky touch.

One of the giants realized we were a little bit tougher than anticipated, and he called over to two of his companions that had remained behind and they came trotting over just as the first giant dropped. A second dropped before they backup pair arrived, which stopped them in their tracks with mouths gaping and drool puddling at their feet.

We were still singing and calling out to them in the friendliest of terms as the two remaining giants were being slaughtered. The third fell, and just as the fourth was thinking he might want to retreat I used Hold Person to keep him still while Avia finished him off.

Meanwhile one of the pair of reinforcements began to run, but was blocked by a wall of fire that sprang up courtesy of Trask. In the meanwhile Derel, who had earlier been made invisible, ran over to the two giants standing guard and began to cut the prisoners free.

Nolin charged the fleeing giant, while Sabin, Trask and Rigel swarmed another, turned and tried to join his companion by the wall of fire.

Concerned that the guard giants might slay the prisoners in desperation, Kane charged them, screaming wildly like a madman. Keep in mind that Kane is a halfling, and the giants were, well, giants.

A look of confusion and utter bewilderment crossed both of their faces as one turned to the other as if to say, “What fuck, Bob?”

They decided to flee, but yanking on their ropes they found that they were no longer tied to their prisoners. Derel tripped one of the giants as Avia showed up and chopped it into pieces and Derel pummeled it into giant juice. Likewise his companion only managed to flee a short distance before he too succumbed to the onslaught of the “crazy little people.”

Eight giants dead in about a minute’s time.

The prisoners looked to be in rough shape, and after Kane channeled some healing energy their way I called out asking if Gavin Devlin was among them.

He was, but he had no idea why he was abducted, nor any notion why his devotion to Abadar would single him out for special giant attention.

We surmised that since Abadar was the patron deity for merchants, and the invaders had explicitly demanded that the town surrender them or face destruction, that whatever was uniting the giants had a special need for or hatred of the sort of people who excel at this line of work.

Devlin was keen to lead the other five freed townsfolk back to Sandpoint, via Windsong Abbey, which he thought they could reach by nightfall if they left right away. And so we equipped him with some leather armor and a quality longs word, as well as handing out simple weapons to the others, and waved them off.

We would be relying entirely upon Kane and my spells for creating food until we reach Galduria because we sent them off with all of our travel rations.

I have confidence that they will make it back to Sandpoint unhindered. It seems that all wild creatures or robbers have been driven away from the road by the passage of the giants.

We encountered more rotting remains from the giant incursion by late afternoon, and one of the giants’ allies, an ogre, was among the victims. It too had a sihedron tattoo on its right shoulder, and I sliced it off and burned it later.

We rode until past dark, and set up camp next to the road. If we ride all day tomorrow we should just reach Galduria before sunset.

== Wealday, Sarenith 18, 4708; Galduria; evening ==

We started early and traveled hard throughout the day. By mid afternoon the tips of the distant Malgorian Mountains could be seen peeping above the eastern horizon. An hour later and we were making our way through the outlying farm lands and hamlets on the outskirts of Galduria.

Talk about the depredation of giants and their kind was found anywhere you lent a sympathetic ear. A farmer who had lost his son was lamenting the fact that if his boy had not been off gambling with his friends he’d still be around to muck out the pig sty. I wondered if young master Gregor had really been taken or if he had simply walked off, but the old man’s words gambling convinced me he was just the sort the giants were after.

We reached Galduria before nightfall, and hastily arranged for a meeting with the mayor. The town itself had been spared from all but a few raids, and these were simple loot and pillage affairs. Indeed the mayor took the issue rather lightly until we told him of Sandpoint’s recent encounter. But Galduria was even less defensible than its distant neighbor to the west, and so we advised that they set up alarms for early warning in case the giants decided to visit en masse.

Galduria is a nice town, somewhat larger than Sandpoint, and perched upon the western shore of Ember Lake. We watched the sun sink behind the mountains on the far eastern shore as we made our way to a comfortable inn just off the main street near the center of town.

The town has a reasonable sized garrison, and the watch seems alert and able, but we have still set our usual watch.

== Oathday, Sarenith 19, 4708; Wolf’s Ear; evening ==

As we rode northward on the way to Wolf’s Ear the land to the west became wilder and wilder. By early morning we met the first few stragglers of trees from the Churlwood to the north, and be mid afternoon the road had plunged into the forest itself, providing only glimpses of Ember Lake to our right.

Maybe half an hour from the town itself was a cairn by the road. It was giant sized, and pushing away some of the stones I saw a giant’s face stuck with spines like a pin cushion. “Manticore,” I heard someone behind me say. Moving a few more stones I discovered he too had a tattoo on his right shoulder. Yet another scrap of skin for the fire.

Wolf’s Ear would have been a quaint trading village on the edge of the wild had much of it not been burned out, torn down, or deserted. We found a village elder who claimed that the giants regularly passed through the town from the northeast on their way to parts south and west.

The worst of the traffic started up about a month earlier, and at first the giants would make a point of stopping in Wolf’s Ear to knock down a building, eat someone’s livestock, or snatch someone out from their house. But now everyone in the town kept an eye and ear open for them, and whenever anything larger than the blacksmith approached, the citizens ran off into the woods and waited for them to pass.

We were given an abandoned house in which to stay for the night, and we are on high alert. The towns folk confirmed that manticores and a host of other deadly creatures lurked in the Churlwood, but they mostly kept to themselves if you did not go out of your way looking for trouble.

Tomorrow morning we will begin our journey following the Lampblack River to the outpost of Ravenmoor, several days to the northeast. We then continue on even further still to the distant Storval Rise, and there, not far from where the river drops down in a thundering cataract from the plateau above, are the Storval Stairs.

It has been more than a year since I came down from my home lands on the Storval Plateau, but I have never ventured to the western ends of that high place. My family’s trade routes extend mostly to the east and south. And yet we share tales around camp fires about the horrors of the Gnashers, and what really lies beneath Chorak’s Tomb upon frigid Lake Skotha.

But our goal lies in the Iron Peaks to the south, and already I have cast my gaze too far ahead. There are many long leagues between us and the Valley of the Black Tower, where Mokmurian holds his sinister court.

== Wealday, Sarenith 11, 4708; Sandpoint; morning ==

We came to warn Sandpoint of an invasion of giants and help her prepare against such ill fortune, but instead we found ourselves actually defending Sandpoint against the said expected force of marauding giants, plus a red dragon.

As I pen this I sit on the steps of the Sandpoint Cathedral, with ashes still falling around me, and the smell of charred wood still strong in the air. The moans and cries of the wounded, the afraid, and the confused mingle with the gentle crackle of dying embers from the ruins of the surrounding buildings.

Although the day is clear, the streets of Sandpoint are a mushy mess of water, ash and mud from the morning’s efforts to extinguish the town’s fires. Both Kane and I made ample use of the Create Water spell to help in the fight against the fires, but still part of the Cathedral complex has been burned to the ground, the magnificent theater a jumble of blackened beams and crumbled wattle and daub, and the western end of the docks and warehouses a forest of naked piles, badly burned and broken off near the water line.

There are many dead, and many more wounded, but although Sandpoint has suffered much, the town could have fared far worse.

The morning began with Kane and I casting Glyphs of Warding on the southern bridge before walking up to the town garrison to meet with sheriff Hemlock, mayor Devlin, and Father Xanthus. We had formed a simple plan for early warning and defense, which we were ready to share with Sandpoint’s elders.

The sheriff was waiting for us, but before the others arrived a loud “BOOM” echoed down from the north gate. We looked at one another for a split second before shouting out to Hemlock, “The giants are here — raise the guard and see to the defense of the bridges while we counter the threat at the gate!”

And with that we raced north to the gate with Dereldon, who can run like the wind, arriving first. Three stone giants were approaching the gate from the road, picking up large rocks and boulders along the way and tossing them at the fortified wall. A single sentry stood atop the battlements, with a bow held limply in his hand as the horror of the onrushing giants filled him with dread.

A giant shouted out in common, “Puny humans, come play!” and Derel answered with an arrow to its neck. Trask had mounted the stairs by this time and taunted them with, “Your mother had some ugly babies!” as he launched a fireball that engulfed all three.

Meanwhile Nolin, Sabin, Avia and I ran around the northern edge of the wall and Rigel and Kane quickly climbed to the top of the wall.

While we were busy engaging this first set of giants, a tremendous explosion to the south warned us that more giants were crossing the center bridge, and had triggered the Glyph of Warding I had placed there the evening before.

The group up on the wall looked southward and saw a handful of giants with dire bears in tow making there way into the town from the bridge head. Derel raced down off the wall in their direction as Trask and Kane (audibly annoyed with having one of the party race off ahead without waiting) followed as best they could.

Meanwhile Nolin, Avia and Sabin plowed into the first giant, ferociously slashing at it and driving it back to hide behind its companions. We pressed our attack with ranged support from Rigel, and quickly killed one of the giants. With only one healthy giant remaining the morale of the two attacking giants faltered, and as our group advanced they both turned tail and ran into the forest.

Rigel called down that she would guard the gate while we swiftly and ran full out towards the district west of the central bridge.

Having watched as Derel out-paced him in his dash to intercept the giants, Trask took to the air with a fly spell, and made good use of his altitude to spy on what the invaders were doing. The giants and dire bears were shouting out and inciting panic in the townsfolk, many of whom left the relative safety of their homes to run about the streets, where they were attacked by the bears or picked up by the giants.

The giants carried large sacks and were plucking people out of second story windows or off the street and stuffing them into the sacks.

Derel arrived at on intersection where two bears and a giant loomed over passerby, and attacked the giant, who began to pummel him as a bear tore at him with its dagger like claws.

Trask used a fireball to scorch the northernmost giant and bear pair as Derel did his best to stand up toe to toe with another. Help was yet some distance off, and it began to look as if Derel’s hasty dash might lead to an untimely death.

Kane arrived on the scene only to be bitten by a dire bear, blocking his attempt to provide aid for a reeling Derel.

The rest of us were still running pell-mell toward the sound of battle when we heard Trask call out from above, “Red dragon coming in from the east!”

A red dragon, and working with giants and dire bears? This did not bode well, but it was all we could do to deal with the threat near at hand. I did take a moment to cast Airwalk on Avia as Nolin and Sabin sped past and slew the dire bear. This allowed Kane to move in and heal a nearly dead Derel.

Avia began to run up into the air as the dragon passed overhead, turning south in an arcing flight path over the harbor district.

The sound of another loud blast from the southern bridge told of more giants pushing their way into Sandpoint. A loud guttural voice boomed out, “More prisoners! People of town give us your fat and greedy or we will destroy your town.”

Derel, Kane, Nolin, Sabin and I were pressing attacks against the knot of dire bears and giants near us when Trask swooped in and cast a haste spell on most of us. One of the bears, seriously injured by our fighters, ran off south toward the other giants, but a parting volley of Magic Missiles from Trask finished it off.

Walking on the air Avia climbed up and over a block of houses to start hacking away at a giant and dire bear just we were finishing off the giants and bears nearest us. Kane closed the distance to offer support for Avia.

But as things were looking up for us in our current skirmish, the dragon, which had been soaring above Sandpoint and harmlessly swooping around, dove towards the Cathedral, belching forth a gout of liquidly flowing flame, which engulfed the wood buildings that made up the north half of the temple complex. The dragon then landed on the stone roof of the Cathedral itself and roared out a challenge.

Trask took up that challenge and flew over toward the dragon, baiting it with insults (I remember “rodent eater” and “weasel face”) and peppering it with Magic Missiles. The dragon did not take kindly to either the insults or the missiles (or both) and an eerie beam of light shot out from one of its claws, fully striking Trask, who a moment later vanished.

Realizing there was little we could do against the dragon (unless it flew down to confront us on the ground), Derel, Sabin, Nolin and I ran south to intercept the most recent influx of giants. As usual Derel sprang ahead while the rest of us used alleyways to create a short cut, managing to step out in front of an advancing giant as Derel tried to stop it.

Avia and Kane finished off their giant and bear, and so Avia walked up into the air again and headed south, leaving Kane to hot foot it through the streets in pursuit of the rest of us.

From the direction of the southern bridge we heard giants shouting out, “Give us all beer now!” Apparently the brewery district was by the bridge, and at least one set of giants decided refreshments were in order as they began to chant, “Beer or death!” over and over.

The giant we now confronted was much larger and more burly than the giants we had seen thus far, and it seemed hell bent on a mission. It pushed past and tried to ignore us as it marched northward. But we would not be brushed aside, and Nolin, Sabin and Derel slashed, hacked and pummeled it. This giant was exceptionally hardy, and even I stung it with an icicle once (the only damage I inflicted on our enemies for the entire battle), but I was kept busy keeping our fighters healed under the crushing onslaught of the chieftain’s punishing blows.

Avia was busy chasing the dragon, as it continued to flit above the buildings, eventually swooping down over the theater and sending it up in flames. At about this time a new threat appeared in the skies above Sandpoint: a white dragon, which was substantially larger than the red flew overhead and screamed at the other. I caught a glimpse of this second dragon and remembering Trask’s earlier images of dragons, hoped that this too was one of his (although more refined and complete with sound). My thoughts seemed confirmed as the white dragon set itself in opposition to the red, and kept it distracted and at bay for a while.

Kane and Rigel arrived to join the fray as the large burly giant was beginning to sway, and perhaps sensing its own mortality, called out to two giants that had just turned the corner and were stomping towards us, “You two, go get the rocks!”

The rocks? Now what?

We managed to hack down the big brute as the other two giants stormed past us — or one of them did. Derel performed some sort of monk move and a giant stumbled and stopped by him. Derel was rewarded with a heavy blow for his efforts.

Sabin, Rigel and Kane ran northward to catch the escaping giant while Nolin, Derel and I dealt with the little giant left behind. And soon our little giant’s behind was kicked and it lay dead in the street. We turned and ran north.

Sabin and company discovered that they could not keep up with a running giant, but managed to keep it in sight as it charged out to the Old Light (ancient ruins of debatable purpose and origin at the northwest corner of town) and began to chip away at the rock-work with its pick.

The trio managed to seriously injure the giant as it picked up a large chunk of stone it had chipped away and began to run towards the north gate. Kane stopped it in its tracks with Hold Person while Rigel ran up and killed it.

Avia had realized she could not catch either of the dragons at the speeds they were swooping about and so returned to the ground near a retreating giant and hacked it to pieces.

The red dragon had landed on the beach to the southwest of the town and was fanning its wings and screeching out a challenge to the white dragon, which also landed on the beach and did the same. Something like a dragon face off ensued for a short while. Eventually the red dragon ran at the white, leaping in the air before it and circling round to set a ship and part of the docks alight before flying away to the east, from whence it had come.

We did not know where the giant Sabin and company had run off to, and so Nolin Derel and I ran north, and soon came to an intersection where the town guard, using bows and arrows, was holding off a trio of giants. To be fair to the giants I do not believe they were trying to get past the guards, but only keep them distracted.

Quite honestly I was quite surprised by how ineffective the town guard had proved. Perhaps they were useful for holding off lesser creatures… such as rabbits — I had heard rumor of an infestation of fluffy bunnies at a place called Thistlestop to the north — but then I wouldn’t necessarily bet against the rabbits in such a conflict.

Our duty was clear, and so we charged over to assist the guard.

At this moment Trask too had spotted the trio of giants and had his white dragon image land behind them. One of the giants took up a horn and gave a great blast, calling out “Retreat!” Then then ran forward and plowed through the guards as they ran to the north gate.

Trask launched a fireball at the departing trio as he landed before his white dragon and made some sort of show of dismissing it—a little grandiose, and really, was this the time for it? We still had three escaping giants.

But one Hold Person spell later and the lead giant was held in his tracks, and Derel ran up to confront the other two, receiving much physical punishment as a reward. Nolin joined in, and another Hold Person later saw a single giant still able to move, and it ran past us to the gate. A few moments later and the two held giants were dead, but oddly enough a wall of flame sprang up behind the retreating giant, protecting its escape.

Alarmed I looked around for some new spell casting foe that had but recently joined the battle, but only saw Trask looking rather sheepish.

In looking south I noticed thick plumes of smoke rising up from across the small bay — this is where the wealthier Sandpoint families had built their estates. Trask had already noticed it and was back in the air, flying south to investigate and aid as he could. Avia too was running to the south above the buildings.

The escaping giant reached the northern gate just as Sabin, Kane and Rigel arrived, and a short while later the giant lay still on the ground, tied in ropes (at first) and later chains.

Nolin hastily made his way to the stables and found the horses had been left alone and the stables ignored in the attack, and mounting his war horse he galloped about town, looking for remaining pockets of giants, and trying to correlate all that had happened that morning into a single cohesive tale.

I too ran southward, using Create Water liberally as I ran past buildings on fire, but my ultimate goal was the giant leader. I thought perhaps he had written orders or something else on his person that might serve as a clue as to where they had come from and what they were trying to accomplish. I found several interesting items, but nothing to explain the attack.

[604] Giant hide shirt (magic)
[605] Pick (magic)
[606] Light pick (magic)
[607] ring (magic)
[608] war horn

If the giant was not carrying his orders, then he must have memorized them, and I planned to have a conversation with him the next day, and so I had the town guard heft the body onto a wagon and haul it up to the garrison. I insisted it be placed under guard to prevent the townsfolk from exacting their revenge upon it, and thus making my job of extracting information from it that much more difficult.

To the south Trask found the Scarnetti manor in flames, and three giants walking into the woods with large sacks over their backs. A fireball later and they had dropped the sacks and were running away. Another fireball ensured that they would probably not try to come back to retrieve the sacks.

Trask found dying members of the Scarnetti household in the sacks — possibly members of the family itself. Nearby was a wagon filled with plunder from the manor. Avia arrived and together they searched the house, finding one surviver (a servant).

We gathered again a short time later, and Nolin revealed that witnesses at the brewery watched the giants take more than just beer. The Knight’s Brewery was owned and operated by a retired paladin, a relative of mayor Devlin, and as the giants came up to the building they saw the paladin’s holy symbol, and crying “That’s it!” two giants snatched him up and marched off eastward into the woods.

Obviously the giant attack had a set of specific goals, possibly one or more of which we thwarted (seizing the “rock” and capturing lots of townsfolk — in particular the merchant class), but some of which they achieved (capturing the paladin, or his holy symbol, or both).

That they had the assistance of a red dragon is not surprising (although its arrival certainly was)—Mokmurian appears to have a wide range of beings at his disposal (one of the giants spoke of Mokmurian, although not in a complimentary fashion).

We know the invaders came from the east—but how far east? And where are those who made away with the paladin (and possibly others) heading?

There is a sense of urgency to chase down the giants, but their trail should not be difficult to follow, and perhaps by spending a day gathering information we will be better prepared to meet whatever or whoever is at their final destination.

We have one of the invading giants held in captivity, whom we will question later on today. I have an idea for how we might be able to get him to answer our questions voluntarily, and old Barl might still be of use to us.

And we have the body of the giant leader, with whom we can speak in the morning. We must plan our questioning for this one well, for we will only get four questions to ask him.

And mayor Devlin should be of use as well. Who was this paladin relative of hers? Which faith did he follow? And the more she can share with us about him (or the more his coworkers or household can tell), the better the chance for a successful Scrying.