Wealday, 18 Kuthona

As we wrestled with the question of what to do with Ironbrier, we reviewed what we knew. He claimed to have been charmed by Xaneesha into doing her will. He claimed that he would not have done it, otherwise. He claimed he would reward us for letting him go. He claimed to be a member of — indeed, a priest of — the same religion as Xaneesha, but a different faction. His god was known as Norgurbur, the Reaper of Reputation. He did in fact carry a holy symbol consistent with that religion, but his faction, one of four, was one more interested in the more secular issues of reputation and power rather than the masks and the killings. He seemed more angry about being used than about the deaths, but we shouldn’t hope for too much regret over the deaths, given his apparent alignment and spiritual background.

Avia was adamant that he should either be turned over to the town for justice, or killed summarily. Trouble was it would come down to the word of a band of people recently arrived from out of town and strangely familiar with the murders, against that of a high justice of the city. We’d likely not win that battle of accusations. And killing him ourselves was regarded not an option by more than one member of the party. I find myself among that group. Perhaps it was his rank, perhaps it was that he appeared to have been used, but it seemed his freedom would actually get us closer to the greater evil. It is dismaying to realize he will not see justice for the deeds he’s done, but sometimes the forces of good must choose between the lesser of two evils, not simply between good and evil.

And so it was in this case. It was by no means unanimous, but fortunately those in the minority did not choose to argue with their weapons. It is the single most divisive issue I’ve ever seen this group wrestle with.

His freedom was tempered, of course. Sabin and I would become his “aides” for 12 hours while he “put his affairs in order”. He agreed to take care of the, uh, disrepair at the mill, and make some arrangements so that much of his wealth and belongings could follow him (or meet him) where he was going. We did not ask where he was going for we knew he would not tell.

We went with him back to his residence, and to their credit his staff did not spend any time asking him why he’d acquired two new assistants, especially with one being a half-orc. We were briefly mentioned as “bodyguards” and nothing more was said. In this role, we had free rein to follow him, and gave him a modicum of privacy while he wrote numerous letters. He even allowed me to inspect one and while it could have been written in some sort of cipher I suppose, it seemed to be what he said it would be: a letter directing the disposition of some of his wealth and belongings.

Since we were still not entirely trusting of him, Kane and Rigel were to follow us discreetly and watch over us, to make sure we ourselves were not charmed by him into doing something untoward. So we were partially but not entirely surprised when we heard what sounded like a large explosion from his bedroom shortly after dinner. We three rushed to the room but found nothing but a tripped ward and an open window. He chalked it up to his enemies already having sniffed out his weakening power, but Sabin and I looked at each other and guessed Rigel had been too tempted by the sparkly and shiny things in his house. (We discovered later that we were spot on.)

Later that evening, a messenger returned with a box of platinum and gear. Ironbrier made a non-magical offer for us to join him, but both Sabin and I declined. There was a bit of hesitancy in Sabin’s response which made me look at him closely, but no, in the end nobody joined him. He announced things were in order and we’d leave in about two hours. He dressed in rather plain travelling clothes. He seemed to have a travelling bag that could hold much more than one might think. (I’d heard of bags like that but never seen one. Seems quite handy.)

We left for the town gates just before 1am. We presumed that one or both of our tails, Kane or Rigel, would notify the rest of the party. Although they didn’t get there before we said our final goodbyes, they were there within minutes of them.

Before he left, he kept his word and told Sabin and I of Xaneesha. She has taken up residence at the shadow clock. Beautiful but very persuasive; since she was able to charm him I suspect the persuasive aspect has significant magical components to it. He said she is the personal agent of the dark forces, and that she has 5 henchman we need to watch for. The clock tower is in the Underdark, and the front door is guarded.

Additionally, he said that Aldrin was paying 200 gp per week in hush money. He had killed his wife and didn’t want anybody finding out. 200 gp per week was draining him pretty fast though; had he not fallen victim to the fungus in his manor, he may have had other problems soon.

Fungus, by the way, is what Xaneesha was most interested in. Aldrin was back at the manor because she had directed him to bring samples to her. Those samples may well have been what led him to the fate he suffered.

After relaying all of this to the rest of our party, we returned to the inn for a good night’s sleep. Oh, and Sabin and I each earned 1 gp for our short stint as bodyguards. Not bad pay; maybe I should look into this line of work.

hah.

Toilday, 19 Kuthona

After discussing it among ourselves, we thought it wise for some of us to get some additional training before confronting Xaneesha. Some people only needed a week or so for their training, while a couple needed two. I myself was already “up to snuff”. Before undertaking this, we (Nolin, Olithar, and myself) decided to try to see if we could trail where Ironbrier went. Near as we can tell, his trail got lost on the road pretty quickly after leaving town. While none of us are expert trackers, we suspect magic still may have been the primary means of his transportation. After all, we may not have been the only ones tracking him.

Late in the day, we did encounter some sort of frog men that Nolin insisted were hazards to travellers because they were so close to the road. They seemed to be building, or at least hanging out near, three mounds of mud, and they did brandish weapons at us. But it was hard to take them seriously with their frog-like appearance. At Nolin’s insistence we did away with three of them and while I escaped unscathed, they did mark up Olithar and Nolin some. And we did find, after slaying them, they actually did have some weapons that were not theirs, about 20 gold pieces, and the remains of some people, so I guess they really did waylay travellers. Ya just can’t tell by looking, I guess. I didn’t look close enough to see if the travellers’ bodies had simply rotted or been eaten. Really didn’t need to know that much.

Knowing that the others were busily training anyway, we made a leisurely trip out of it, travelling a few days out and back. Although we did meet several other travellers, none of them had seen a man matching the description of Ironbrier. Neither did we encounter any more wildlife that needed to be put down. We returned to Magnimar midday on Sunday.

Sunday, 22 Kuthona

Our multi-day journey was easily summarized to the remainder of the party, and Nolin took it upon himself to do some training too. Olithar and I will go scout out the clock tower tomorrow while Nolin starts training and the others finish.

Monday, 23 Kuthona

The clock tower looks a bit intimidating, even in daylight. We tried not to stand out so much here in the Underdark, but I imagine we still looked a bit out of place. Although the front door seems secure, the tower looks like it may be in disrepair. That alone probably keeps a lot of the locals away, but a quick tug on the front door also indicated it was locked. Seven years ago, one of them tells us, the city declared it dangerous and took effort to close it off.

The base was about 60 feet on a side, but it towers up almost 200 feet, maybe about 180. It narrows some as it rises, so it’s not 60 feet square all the way up. The belfry still shows some elegance after all these years, and had it not fallen into disrepair would likely be a tourist attraction in its own right. In its current condition — mortar is crumbling, and bricks are falling out of it — it’s more of a distraction than an attraction. Near the top there’s still a scaffolding of some sort hanging precariously on the side of the building.

I hope the stairs inside are in better shape than the outside suggests, or thoroughly examining this properly will require more skill or magic than may be present in our group. I wonder if there are rooms underground? Such a building must require a firm foundation.

Fireday, 3 Abadius

The days have passed leisurely for myself and Olithar, as others complete their training. Well, actually, Olithar has been off hanging around his temple, I guess, but I’m content to spend the days resting mostly and occasionally getting out and walking around just to keep in shape.

We had had no messenger come by from Ironbrier, and we were beginning to believe perhaps the reward portion of his speech had indeed been fluffery, but lo, today a cloaked messenger arrived. Meeting him was like meeting with a state spy; we did not mention Ironbrier’s name out loud, but instead referred to “our friend” and “those incidents”. In this manner we communicated to the messenger that we had not yet attacked Xaneesha or the clock tower, but intended to within a few days. He might return in, say, one or two weeks if he wished additional news. He gave no indication if he would. We mentioned to him we had moved to a new inn; he nodded.

He did say there was a parcel at our feet under the table, and that it was for us. He then abruptly left. We casually removed it to our room and after Rigel checked it for traps and such, opened it to discover seven gold bars, each worth 500 gp. Normally we take out a share of what we recover or are paid for “group expenses” but agreed that given the form this particular recompense had taken, we wouldn’t try to split up 7 bars 8 ways.

I’m good with that.

Sunday, 5 Abadius

The murders are still happening, and Nolin, the only one still training, has agreed we can’t sit idle while more people are losing their lives. Tomorrow, in the early dark of morn, we will go to the tower.

Moonday, 6 Abadius

Our thinking about investigating before the sun rises is two-fold. One is that what we are about to do — break into an area closed off by the city — is something we’d like to be a little bit surreptitious about. We might be in and out in an hour, and if we can do that while it’s dark, even the twilight of a rising sun, all the better. Two is that if we find these forces seem to benefit from darkness, an increasing light works in our favor.

We really didn’t know what to expect, other than Xaneesha and five misshapen henchmen defending their turf.

We started by picking the lock on the front door; practically child’s play for Rigel these days. Carefully entering the tower, we could see in the dim light that the outside may well be worse off than the inside. We used our continual light rocks to see better, but they didn’t make the contents really look any better.

Debris was scattered around. Fallen framing and timbers were in each of six small rooms that started to the right of the door, as we entered, and ran counterclockwise to the middle of the wall opposite us. To the left was a staircase that looked like it had seen better days. It led up into the clock tower, winding around and around the outside wall as it rose.

Some footprints were evident on the staircase that indicated it still seen relatively recent use, so that offered some meager evidence that Ironbrier had not lied about this building being used.

We were a bit startled, but not really very surprise, when one pile of debris stood up as we were inspecting the damaged rooms, and approached Olithar. It had bits of people, animals, and debris integrated into a body-like shap, and a selection of shrunken heads dangling from its belt.

This must be one of the misshapen ones. And when it smacked Olithar, it smacked him HARD. And that was just the beginning.

First, it was huge; easily as big as any three of us. Second, much to my and Olithar’s dismay, flame seemed to have no effect on it. Olithar’s spiritual weapon passed right through it without damage. Kane tried channelling positive energy to it; no effect. Magic missile did seem to do damage to it, at least. Avia finally switched to an adamantine weapon she has and that seemed to do real damage at last.

We did dispatch it, but it took great effort and all but I were signficantly injured. Our clerics healed us, but this did not bode well if we encountered the other four henchman at the same time.

On the corpse of this abomination we found a +1 scythe and a cloak of elvenkind, that Avia accepted. Searching carefully through the debris also discovered about 125 gp, 309 sp, a tarnished silver ring with the inscription “TO AV WITH LOVE” and a silver mirror. The mirror and the ring might have some intrinsic value, but nothing found was magic.

We found nothing else of interest on this floor, in the main hall or in any of the rooms. That left nowhere but up. Sabin and I tried to go up but it was clear the wood would not likely support the two of us standing too close together.

Since Sabin could cast featherfall on himself if need be, and I’d, at best, have to read it from a scroll, he went up alone. He’d gone three times around and reached the first set of windows when he heard a noise from above. A sawing noise. With no further warning, a huge copper bell fell from the heights. It took out the section of stairs Sabin was on, and hurt him badly just from the blow. He fell, but was able to feather himself down.

Meanwhile, I had the good fortune to be in the target area, and when the bell came crashing down, careening off what structure was left, fate dictated that it should land on me. I took even more damage than Sabin, and had to be pried out from under the bell and healed almost immediately.

And so much for any degree of secrecy in this operation. Outside, it was considerably lighter but now people were gathering about the tower, gossiping about the loud noise. We quickly decided to spin this as best we could, because sure as the sun rises every morning, when we exited the tower there were a pair of constables there. We brought out the body of the creature we’d killed and loudly announced there was some foul presence in that tower.

As the constables (and crowd) looked over the misshapen corpse, you could almost feel the tide swing in our favor. We told a tale of having seen it and it ran into the tower. Knowing it would be harmful to the town and wondering idly if it might be responsible for the killings, we chased it in and killed it, as any capable townsperson would. The crowd was murmuring and although the constables were still mildly suspicious, they couldn’t deny that the body in front of them was not a citizen of the town.

We announced were going to go back in and see if there was more, and did they want to come? Nooooo, the constables were willing to let us go in but they would keep the peace out here. Already they were shooing people back (“nothing to see here, just a rotting building, move along”) One did comment, after looking at the bell, that the rope appeared to have been cut. Gasp, really? One of the onlookers commented that sometimes, people who live here could see something or some things flying in and out of the tower. (That’s distressing, that maybe we get up to the top and it just flies away. Not sure we can do much about that.)

Anyway, I need to wrap this up and rejoin the group. We are strategizing about what to do next. I’m hearing ropes, and I’m hearing Spider Climb and I’m hearing “long way to fall”. Sigh. I need to learn that featherfall thing.

17 Kuthona

We thought we had a dilemma. We thought we had a tough decision. We thought we faced great risk should we choose unwisely. And we had no idea that within a day, we’d face a decision that would make this one look as simple as deciding whether to kill a charging goblin or not.

But I get ahead of myself.

The three bodies of the creatures that we’d vaguely identified as something of legend that ought not exist would begin to rot if we simply left them here. In addition, we had no idea if they had regenerative abilities, or would be even more fearsome if raised from the dead. We did not know why they had been here, nor did we know what their absence would mean to whomever knew they were here. And lastly, we had no idea what the town guard would make of this. Would we be viewed as heroes for ridding the city of this scourge, blamed for their appearing in the first place, or simply noted by the guard as a health threat. “We’ll have the usual corpse detail remove them by the end of the day; please make sure they are all the way out to the street, as there will be an extra charge if our men need to walk to the rear of the house to retrieve them.”

In the end, we decided we had to tell the town guard, and seeing what they made of it might tell us more of how they were handling the ongoing murder spree. So Nolin went to the nearest guard station (which happened to be the huge tall one that overlooked most of the city) and returned with a constable. There was a brief investigation — “Did they have weapons? Why did you feel threatened? What are YOU doing here?”

Finally, however, we seemed to win him over and he admitted they were a little unusual looking. We conjectured on whether they were connected with the murders here, and mentioned we’d dealt with some similar murders in Sandpoint. He looked a little interested and we talked a bit about our adventures. Conversationally, he mentioned that the murders here had been going on long before we dealt with them in Sandpoint; cases like this were going back several months. Cases like this? Er, just odd deaths, he meant, and looked as if he’d said too much. They did appear to be strong creatures, he admitted, and asked if we knew why they were here. Also — where was the real owner? We truthfully responded that nobody had seen the true owner in over a month, and that’s what had brought us here (pointedly holding up the key that allowed us to enter without incident.)

Nodding, he concluded his investigation by saying he’d send somebody around to pick up the bodies discreetly; no point in the neighborhood being upset by this. We agreed to leave the bodies in the garden and access to the garden unlocked so that it could be dealt with via the alley.

“One last thing,” he said as we moved to the door. “Where are you staying?”

When we replied we were staying at the inn near Nolin’s parents, he nodded and suggested we should not leave town anytime soon. We agreed, as we pointed out to him we still had a mystery on our hands and wouldn’t be leaving until we had a hand on that.

That left us with our first somewhat positive experience with the law in this town. I think we’d found one person who was still suspicious of us, but at least mildly impressed with what we’d done and how we’d done it.

Kane and Rigel thought they might have some contacts/references in town that could provide more information about the murders and where we might find the sawmill where the payments apparently took place. They took the remainder of the day to go to the Underbridge district and ask about; they returned about 50gp lighter but with little new information. That seemed a bit spendy to me, but both Kane and Rigel assured me (and us) that it was spent buying drinks and purchasing good humor during their “research”. They were confident that if anyone had knowledge of the murders or the sawmill they would contact us. Although they claimed nobody had followed them back, that still didn’t sound terribly safe to me because I rather suspected “contact” might be made with a sharp instrument rather than a brief note. Myself, I slept a little uneasily that night.

Wealday, 18 Kuthona

At least some of the murders in Sandpoint occurred at a sawmill. These payments we were tracing also happened at a sawmill. Coincidence? maybe. In any case, one of the things Kand and Rigel had learned yesterday was that a large number of sawmill were based on the island to the south of the city, and yes, one of them might happen to be named “The 7”. So after a good breakfast, we started off through town. Rigel and Kane thought it possible we might find an interested party following us, due to the previous day’s inquiries, and said they’d drop back a bit to see if we were being followed. As luck would have it, it appears we were. I didn’t learn of this until afterward, but Kane apparently cornered the guy near a shop and said, “Tell your bosses thanks for the escort.” The guy apparently looked startled and said, “Beg your pardon?” but quickly excused himself and disappeared again into the crowd. Nobody else seemed to be following us. Or else they were better at it.

After an hour or so of leisurely walking, we did reach the island, which had a bridge on both the north and south sides to connect it to, respectively, the main city and an apparent burg that contained some of the more, er, free-thinking members of the city. I think I heard somebody say the island was named Kiver’s Islet. This island did seem to cater towards wood and lumber. There were a large number of sawmills, as well as woodworking shops, ship construction, and ship repair.

And a sawmill named The 7.

The building appeared to be four stories tall, although there also appeared to be a basement at water level only accessible from the outside. What appeared to be the business entrance was at ground level, with three more stories above it. The group considered briefly how to approach it, but I said, “It’s a business, right? There must be somebody inside.” And indeed we did hear the sound of boards being sawed and lumber being cut. “Well, we are looking for business with this mill, friends. I suggest we go on in and ask. It’s the middle of the week, in the middle of the day, after all!” And before anybody could stop me, I strode onto the porch overlooking the river and approached the double doors that led to the entrance.

“Hello?” I asked, and knocked. “Anybody here?” With no response, I threw open the doors and strode in, the rest of the party hesitantly following.

But the room was empty. There was plenty of machinery around, and tools scattered about, but nobody minding the front door. Odd. Avia detected twelve distinct evil presences, all above us in some fashion. Up we go, then, to the second floor.

There, we were more successful. Although the stairwell seemed to be in a small room with a door, the door was ajar and we saw four men working, who looked up when we entered. This room had holes in the ceiling; evidently work passed vertically between this and the upper level via a system of pulleys and ropes. Noise from above was evident through the holes in the ceilings. I adopted my previous stance, stepping forward confidently and remarking, “Glad to meet you. I’m Perot Threshmore and I’m here regarding an account of one of your customers. Aldrin Foxglove has fallen behind in his payments and wishes to bring his account up to date. Are you the foreman?”

The man seemed calm yet a little surprised. “The foreman’s not here,” he said. “C’mon in, though. Nice to meet you. We can get him.” All the men stopped working as he spoke and looked at us. Avia silently signalled that they were all detecting as evil.

“Foreman’s not here? Are you a supervisor? I want to make sure we get this settled but I’m not sure who the right person to talk to would be. Do you have an accountant, or somebody who handles the money for you?” I asked, basically stalling to give everyone a chance to make it up the stairs and for Avia to refine her evil assessment.

“Foreman’s upstairs. We should go upstairs.” The men had moved slightly but deliberately while we were talking, but now I made no attempt to move to the stairs. “It’s a sizable amount of money; no offense but I want to make sure I’m talking to the right person. Is it the foreman or the accountant who is upstairs?” One impatiently reached down into a pile of lumber and pulled out a war razor hidden there. The others quickly did the same, and the battle was on. One nicked me a bit, as I’d basically given him a free attack owing to my method of entering the room with a purposeful stride and a bit of chatter. I quickly extended my claws and nicked him back but it startled him a lot less than I thought it might. Rigel darted in and out like a hummingbird, but a hummingbird with a stinger. She ended up laying out two of them, Olithar a third, and I the last. We stablilized their wounds, tied them up, and left them lying unconscious in a corner of the room not visible from the stairs.

Avia checked again, and said she detected evil above us, something like eight individual presences. That’s what we would have guessed, from the math, but it was good to have it confirmed. The weapons they’d used seemed quite well made, but we set them aside for now. Rigel snooped around the room looking for, well, anything else but found nothing.

We asked her to carefully sneak up the stairs and scout a bit for us. She reported that there were two doors upstairs, with noise behind one. On the top floor, there seemed to be a mostly open area in which there were two people and some closed doors behind them.

Concentrating, Avia reported the strongest evil presence was on the 4th floor. Since the third floor might represent reinforcements, we grabbed a board and some rope and rigged a bar across the door with noise behind it. Without nails or spikes it wouldn’t lock anybody in the room, but it would slow them down. And we continued upstairs.

I again used my insistent self-introduction on the two men we found up there. As Rigel had noted, there appeared to be two doors behind them; the room had some workbenches and they seemed to be working on planes. The room was full of sawdust, sometimes to a foot deep it appeared.

My chatter again allowed everyone to make it up the stairs while one of the men calmly told me to stop, and said I wasn’t allowed up here. It was too dangerous. I should go back downstairs. Avia took up a conveniently flanking position on one of the men as I again asked about the foreman. Or the accountant, whichever could best help me with my question. Meanwhile, Rigel started quietly searching the nearest workbench but almost lost her cookies. Noticing her reaction, several other party members moved closer and also became alarmed.

The workbench appeared to have been used for dissection. Recently. As in, blood still fresh.

But about this same time, the man I wasn’t speaking to pulled out a mask, put it on his face, and repeated that I should leave. “You might get hurt,” he said ominously behind a mask that appeared to be made of skin and body parts and featured a bulbous eye. “Man with a mask!” I yelled as the man opposite me also put on a similarly visceral mask. By this time, everyone was in the room and taking up battle positions.

The men reached down into the deep sawdust and pulled up more war razors hidden there.

Avia, sensing the strongest evil was not these two, quickly moved opposite the door behind which it seemed to be. And noted, much to her frustration, that it had suddenly disappeared.

Meanwhile, Sabin was told to FLEE! by the man I’d been talking to, and with a look of purpose on his face, Sabin ran to the stairs. I attempted to grapple the man and rip the mask off his face, but failed. Rigel, that sneaky damsel, again started darting among the attackers, wounding almost at will. Avia found her frustration to be an excellent focus for her sword, and before anybody else could lay an edge to them, the men were both down.

Olithar healed our wounded and prepared to stabilize our enemies so we might question them. Before he could do so, though, Sabin returned with a very angry look in his face, strode over to the prone figure of the man who had told him to flee, and with a single slice, separated his head from his body. “His condition is stable NOW,” he growled. We were stunned, but, well, that’s Sabin. He doesn’t take kindly to be ordered about.

Avia still wanted to get into the room the evil had escaped from and was dissuaded from simply breaking down the door. Rigel searched the locked door for traps — and found one. She disarmed the poison trap she found, and after a couple of tries unlocked the lock as well.

The room appeared on the one hand to be an office, or maybe a personal room .. but the walls in this place were covered with human faces stretched over forms, looking down into the room. If this was somebody’s office or bedroom, they were one twisted puppy. There appeared to be a trapdoor in the ceiling.

There was a foot locker, and in a flash Rigel had opened it. Inside we found a number of interesting items, ranging from fairly mundane items such as sea charts, etchings, and pamphlets (about a forgotten alchemical school of magic) to more interesting items like a spellbook and another gruesome mask.

[234] painting of a city carved out of a huge ice formation
[235] journal + ledger
[236] a spellbook whose cover bore the drawing of two entwined snakes, one red, one green
[237] an old filigree tome, “Fairy tales of the Eldest”
[238] sea charts
[239] mask – single long strip of dried flesh stretched into a spiral. fills your mind with images of murder and makes you more sensitive to the exact spot(s)
to murder someone, +1 profane damage with a slashing weapon against
living creatures, +2 to perception checks against creatures not immune
to fear, -1 CH, can cast confusion twice per day

Sabin cast detect magic to see if any of these things were magic and had a most curious result. Yes, the spellbook was magic. Yes, the mask was magic. But he also detected an area right near the door that seemed to radiate magic. A blank, magical space in the room. How odd. Sabin issued a swift kick in that spot and was rewarded with a muffled “oof” from the space. And then a voice. “Oh my goodness, thank you so much for rescuing me! Please don’t kick me again! You will undoubtedly receive a rich reward!” The voice identified itself as Justice Ironbrier, one of the thirteen Justices of the city. He related how he’d been tied up, made invisible, and left in the room but had managed to loosen himself. When he heard the noise outside, he didn’t know if it was friend or foe and so had waited silently. But now …

Avia was very suspicious. She’d sensed evil and it had gone away, yet here was this person, invisible, hiding in the room. “Oh wait,” said Ironbrier, “if I strike you it will end the invisible spell, right?” And he reached out and lightly tapped Sabin and suddenly there he was. He did have some rope with him as though he’d been tied, and still had loose bonds on him. Avia tried to read him but did not detect any evil.

He’d been investigating the murders, it seems, and had gotten too close for comfort. He’d been captured and hidden away here. “Who captured you?” we asked.

“It was a tall, bulky, muscled man in a brown cloak. Looked something like a half orc, perhaps. I’ve only been here an hour. He was here when you came, but he escaped through that trapdoor.”

After checking for traps, Rigel went up to check out the trapdoor. It led to what appeared to be a roost. Three ravens were in a cage, as well as a quill, some ink, and some paper in a cubby nearby. There was no roof, and a clear view was available for 360 degrees. If someone had escaped this way, they’d flown away somehow.

Kane and Nolin had kept watch over the prisoner, and Nolin quietly confirmed that this did indeed look like one of the thirteen justices, both in face and in dress. Olithar attempted to sense motive on Ironbrier, but he seemed to be telling the truth.

As Rigel and the others came down through the trapdoor, there was a call from outside the room. “Trouble.”

We exited to see the last of nine men entering the room from the stairway. Each was wearing a grotesque mask, and as our party exited the room, Ironbrier being kept firmly within sword’s length of Avia, we may have appeared slightly overmatched.

Then Ironbrier said something strange. He said, looking out at the men, “None of them should leave alive.” And the battle was on. Had he spoken to the men, or to us? At that point, it didn’t matter.

Olithar cast prayer to help us, and I jumped to the front of the group and color sprayed the men. Two of them fell unconscious, but three others were unfortunately unaffected. Sabin and Nolin quickly took two of them down before another ominous, unusual thing happened.

Ironbrier, during the heat of battle, turned to Avia (who had not budged from Ironbrier’s side, convinced he was really evil) and suggested he was impressed by how she carried and conducted herself, and that after this was over, there was an opening on his staff for her. It was, Avia realized, more than a suggestion. He’d attempted to charm her. She drew her sword to his throat and told him if he tried anything like that again she would slit his throat. He paled and apologized, saying he meant no harm.

Meanwhile, around this little drama the battle continued. Nolin took out another one, and Rigel came in from behind another to take him out. Nolin and I each received some minor injuries before, inexplicably, Ironbrier started to cast a spell.

Avia is not unskilled in the ways of magic herself, and from the gestures and mouthings, recognized it as the start of a curse aimed at her. She immediately sliced him well and good with her sword, and Olither moved in to support her. I managed to take out two more of the men with some well-aimed magic missiles, and Rigel found the vital spot of one of the unconscious men, leaving only one standing and one prone.

The one still standing ran off. Sabin tried to chase him, but was unable to catch him. Meanwhile, the battle between Avia and Ironbrier raged. Ironbrier found another war razor in the sawdust and smoothly picked it up. Kane started throwing curses at Ironbrier, and I magic missiled him. While Rigel dispatched the other unconscious man, Avia and Olithar laid Ironbrier low.

Olithar stabilized the near-dead men while we decided what to do. We took away all their masks and stripped Ironbrier. The latter was manacled using Rigel’s master manacles as we discussed what to do next.

His confiscated belongings:

war razor
[240] wand [12] of cure moderate wounds
mithril shirt

We checked the spellbook and it contained all the cantrips and the spells blink, cats’s grace, chill touch, enlarge person, fox’s cunning, grease, haste, lightning bolt, mage armor, scorching ray, shocking grasp, shrink item, spider climb, and web. No ‘make invisible’ there, although of course that could have been a scroll or potion too. Quite possible too that this wasn’t his spellbook. We didn’t see a holy symbol, but his wand was clerical in nature. Ironbrier had clearly attacked us. But he was a Justice. Who in the town would believe us? If we tried to turn him in and he pointed at us and claimed we’d kidnapped him, what would stop the town guard from arresting us, either because they were convinced he was telling the truth or simply from duty?

Could it be he was under some compulsion to attack us or work with the Brothers? But what about the evil Avia had sensed earlier? Was it possible that both were true — he’d been under a spell but was nevertheless evil? Could you be evil and be a Justice? I suppose if one were lawful it might still be a decent fit 🙁

He was likely not one of the doppelgangers, as they changed form when attacked and he had not. And now, having stabilized him and made him helpless, was dispatching him even an option? Did our morals compel us to turn him over to the authorities even it might result in our becoming outlaws?

How much time did we have before the man who escaped returned with reinforcements? Or worse, the city guard? If this Justice was corrupt, might others be too? If he was a victim of evil magic, might others be too?

We had no sure way of detecting his true intentions and we no longer believed his words. Sabin pointed out that if we wanted to wait just fifteen minutes, he could learn a spell which would detect the man’s thoughts. That might help us decide how to proceed. I tended to think the man might be bewitched, and so cast detect magic on his form. I detected two spells .. the strongest being an enchantment spell of some sort, and the second being an abjuration spell. If Olithar cast dispel magic, it would remove the enchantment. But I could not tell what spells he was specifically under; only their schools.

An enchantment spell could be a charm. And an abjuration spell could be thwarting our attempts to divine his intentions. While we discussed, Sabin studied. Finally, we concluded we would try to detect his thoughts and see if they aligned with whatever story he had.

Olithar cast dispel magic upon him. Sabin cast detect thoughts. And Kane first channelled energy to the group and then specifically healed Ironbrier.

I was able to tell the enchantment spell was gone, leaving only abjuration.

He shook his head as if to clear it. He looked at us, and looked aghast. He’d been charmed, he said, by Areesha. She had made him do horrible things, and … and … he could no longer show his face in this town. While he might be able to convince a court he was compelled to do these things against his will, his reputation would be shot. He would have to leave town. He suggested a deal: release him, give him 12 hours to put his affairs in order, and he would tell us everything he knew of Aleesha, including her defenses and where she currently was. She was behind the murders, though he didn’t say why. She was the one who had captured him while he was investigating, and then turned him into her tool. He’d cast a non-divination spell to stop her from finding him but it hadn’t worked.

And I know that spells like that could last as long as 24 hours, but spells from the same school could also be used to misdirect alignment. So again, he could be telling the truth .. or not. We could tell for sure in 24 hours but we’d be foolish to sit here that long.

Sabin quietly told us his thoughts matched his words. So now what?

We told Ironbrier we’d have to consider his situation, and retired to the other side of the room to have a good but quiet think.

The group was divided. We needed more information. Could one of the men that attacked us provide it? A few of us went downstairs to revive one of the men on the second floor and interrogate him, but he wouldn’t crack. He tried to make me FLEE! but failed, and began ranting on how we might win this battle but we’d lose the war, and then we’d be sorry we picked the wrong side, and … it got boring fast.

And so now, as I’d mentioned at the beginning, we sit with perhaps the most critical decision for our little party to be made. If we choose poorly, we may find ourselves doing the right thing but on the wrong side of the law. But are we doomed to that fate regardless? Should we just leave the carnage and the corpse of Ironbrier for the guard to find? Ironbrier presents a dilemma unlike any we’d faced before: release him, leave him, or kill him? There are some among us who cannot abide killing a helpless person, which he now is.

I think most of us are convinced he was indeed the evil entity that Avia had sensed, but is he now telling the truth with the enchantment removed? Was it a charm that he is now free from? Or was it some other magic that he had cast upon himself as protection or some sort of misdirection? Even with my admittedly limited knowledge of the schools of magic, I cannot think of an enchantment spell that could be used in any other way than to compel or control somebody so his story does have a hollow ring of truth to it.

Would we save an evil person to destroy a greater evil? Would evil betray us if we chose this option and thus destroy any hope of warding off the greater evil? Does evil imply not trustworthy? This decision could have a profound impact upon our future.

We arrived back in town, having dodged the undead birds as I previously described, and found our friends already in treatment. Here in town, their situation seemed much less dire, and it did not take long at all before they were completely cured.

We were unsure of what to do about the Misgivings, but one thing was clear: we were a little underprepared for what we’d run into there. So it was that the party decided to undergo a little extra training, ranging from one to four weeks in duration depending on the individual, during which we honed existing skills and learned a few new ones.

I myself was able to engage a master sorcerer and, within the space of three weeks, learn the spells of identify and mirror image, and improve my skills with magic devices, spellcraft, perception, and healing. I also took up the study of arcane knowledge, learning more about the origins of magic and different forms it may take. Conditioning and workouts improved my toughness, and some concentration techniques allowed me to better focus some of my spells. It was, if I may say, 300 gp well spent. Although I must admit, it wasn’t all that long ago that paying 300 gp for an education was entirely beyond my capability.

I’m proud of how I’ve done. I find myself relying more on my magic than my quarterstaff or claws these days. I guess that makes me more like Father.

The group went through the items and artifacts we’d uncovered and decided to sell a portion of it for living and training expenses. My share came to 414 gold, 2 silver, and 5 copper. Deducting my training expenses, I find myself still adding to my wealth, which now totals 668 gp, 6 sp, and 5 cp. I am by no means wealthy, but neither am I destitute.

With some of the group finishing earlier than others, it is not surprising that some had the time to undertake some more research related to the Misgivings after their study was done. The caretaker, we had learned, was named Roger Craysbee, and we thought he might have been able to tell us more of the manor. And well he might have … had he not succumbed to ghoul fever and been killed at our own hand upon arriving in the area! Well, greater good and all that I suppose.

Kane and Rigel asked around and it seems there have been no new ghoul outbreaks. Locally, we seem to have addressed the problem. We did discover that apparently there were some rather grisly murders in Magnimar – faced ripped off, symbols carved into the bodies, that sort of thing — within the last month. Word has been slow to spread about this because the authorities seem to be trying to control communications about this.

About a week after this, Kane, Rigel, and Avia decided to go to Magnimar and investigate the rumored murders. It is also possible they may find information about Alderin’s (hopefully still living) sisters there. The plan was for them to investigate while the rest completed their studies, and return in time for us all to decide what to do next. They left, conveniently, on 1 Kuthona.

Travel to Magnimar is 2-3 days, depending on how long you travel each day, and the pace you set. We expected the earliest they’d be back would be about a week, and the latest to be about two. Instead, after about a week we got what appeared to be a hastily written note, saying that on their trip there they’d seen some sort of demon horse and fought off snakes and that there was more to tell about the murders and we should come there rather than they coming back to Sandpoint.

So it was that upon the “graduation” of the last student, Olithar, Nolin, Sabin and myself headed south to Magnimar. It was the 15th of Kuthona as we set off.

Sunday, 15 Kuthona, 4707

Later that same day, we came across a bloody scene. There were three dead horses, and at least one dead human .. and six giant geckos partaking of the buffet. They did not seem vicious enough to have initiated the carnage, but rather seemed more like opportunistic scavengers.

In fact, I took a couple of steps towards them and stomped my feet and shouted, to see if they’d scatter. (I don’t think my companions agreed this was a clever test.) Nolin remained on his mount and the others readied their weapons. When the gecko closest to me took an awkward swipe at me, the lizard exterminators went to town. Olithar’s gleeful use of a fireball did little to win them over (and it turns out that cooked gecko really doesn’t smell all that savory.) Five of them eventually went down; a sixth got away at a comparatively leisurely pace. The only person injured by these large creatures was Sabin.

Inspecting the remains we found only

20gp
[230] wand (of knock, 18 charges)

We theorized these might have been traveling thieves (travelling no longer).

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and we arrived in Magnimar on 17 Kuthona.

Toilday, 17 Kuthona, 4707

Upon our arrival Avia, Kane, and Rigel greeted us and told us in more detail of their adventures.

Apparently on their way here, they were camped the first night when one of them heard a sound. Not too far away, perhaps a quarter mile or so, they saw a big horse coming over the crest of a hill. It stood up on its hind legs and made a scream unlike anything a horse makes. Creatures ran blindly away from it. It spread its wings (!) and flew up into the night. It had a tail as long as its body, if not longer. Thankfully it flew away from them, not towards them. Kane says it sort of matches up with the description of the Sandpoint Devil, considered by many (but now none in our group) to be something of a legend. It’s supposedly responsible for missing livestock and children.

They slept uneasily that night.

On their next night, Kane was on guard when he heard rustling. Instead of waking the others, he investigated, and almost got outnumbered by a small group of 6-8 foot snakes. After a skirmish, they disappeared and Kane sheepishly admitted they were “goblin snakes”.

The next day, 3 Kuthona, they had arrived in Magnimar. They were staying with Nolin’s parents, who had graciously opened up their home to their son’s friends. They entered from the NE gates and Nolin’s parents’ house was actually not too far from that gate, in a moderately affluent section of town. Successful merchants tend to characterize the residents in this part of town.

Nolin’s parents had no particular knowledge of the Foxglove sisters, but suggested that the census bureau may know of them. Kane and Rigel each cleverly but foolishly independently bribed the officials with 10gp to get them to reveal that they might want to look in the Marble district.

Once there, they and Avia when to a pub and bribed a barkeep 10gp (only once, this time) to learn that they seemed to be in Korvosa. But they also learned that Aldrin’s townhouse was in the Great Arch district.

It was about this time they thought it better for the group to come to Magnimar rather than for them to return to Sandpoint, and sent the cryptic note to us.

Over the intervening days they continued asking trying to find out more about both the Foxgloves and the murders. But the authorities were really clamping down, because the citizens were getting so nervous as to be almost riotous. Victims allegedly came from all walks of life (again, the official were making no official statements) which meant nobody felt safe. Word on the street was that there was about one a night, but it was clear after a couple of inquiries that we were not going to duplicate our teamwork with the Sandpoint constabulary. They really were being very tightlipped here, and any investigation would have to be without the benefit of official assistance or authority.

On the other hand, that can make the investigation go more smoothly too. Clearly the authorities in this town are not doing the citizenry any favors by withholding information.

Upon our arrival, Olithar was quick to check with the head of his order at the church, whom he knows well, but again found there was little information to be had.

We were filled in with the efforts of the other half of our group, and the full group proceeded to Aldrin’s townhouse. It appeared to have an enclosed garden in the back (enclosed by a wall) and seemed locked up. A decorative fountain out front was not running. Strangely, the windows on the ground floor were boarded up, in contrast to the other houses around it. This did not seem to be a disreputable section of town, and the boarded windows made it rather stand out. But they were not boarded at the front of the house, just the side and back. From the front, it looked just like any other of the townhouses on this street.

Nolin was uncomfortable about prying the boards off and breaking into the house, but when we produced the key we’d retrieved from the manor and found it fit into the lock on the back door, he decided that owning the key meant we had every right to enter the house, and rejoined us. Having pried the boards off the back door, and unlocking it, we cautiously entered what used to be the garden. It obviously hadn’t been tended for a while and was overgrown (although not really gone wild.) There was no evidence that anyone had been through the garden recently.

There was a door into what appeared to be a little sunroom, and all the windows here were also boarded over. We entered the sunroom. The room was cold (boarded windows; no sunlight!) and stale smelling. Another door led into the main part of the house and was not locked.

This appeared to be the kitchen. A small pantry was found to the north, and doors led to the north and south. To the south was a study, but it appeared to have been ransacked. The chair was turned over, and the drawers on the desk were open with papers scattered around. Avia turned on her evil radar and announced quietly that there was evil to the east and north.

Sabin, Kane, and Avia went east — and found, much to their surprise, that Aldrin and Aiesha were seated their in the lounge, rising to their feet as the group entered. “So nice to see you. Have you eaten? We can make you some lunch.” They seemed utterly human but Avia confirmed again they were evil. A shout from the kitchen seemed to confirm that something evil might be entering the kitchen — Nolin had opened the door to the north only to find a horrible, largish creature on the other side, and shut the door.

Meanwhile, Aldrin was continuing the small talk and it seemed that this Aldrin did not know a) he was dead, and b) his dog was dead, or c) who we really were. Finally Olithar interrupted with “How long have you been evil?” and Aldrin replied “that’s a rude question.” And the melee began. Both Aldrin and Aiesha rippled a bit before becoming creatures that, we learned later when we compared corpses, were similar to the one that had decided to come after Nolin in the kitchen.

Olithar, Avia, Kane, and Sabin battled the two in the lounge, while Nolin, myself, and Rigel battled the one in the kitchen. They were awfully strong, and Olithar and Nolin both took damage before the creatures were put to rest. I used magic missiles to work on the creature in the kitchen, to good effect.

At the completion of this battle, Avia turned on her radar again and found no more evil within range. We discussed what these creatures may have been here for and why they took the shapes they did, but decided the answer must lie within the house somewhere. All the rooms on the first floor, including the trophy room from which the third creature had emerged, appeared tossed and thoroughly searched. We went upstairs.

On the second floor we found a hallway, a guest bedroom, an empty corridor (?!) and a library (with the floor, of course, full of tossed and thrashed books).

On the third and highest floor we found a master bedroom and another study. We observed from the dust that nobody had been here for about a couple of months, so the creatures we fought must have stayed downstairs. Were they responsible for any of the murders in town? What WAS their purpose? I guess we won’t know. Rigel went to search the study but it was who Kane noticed something unusual about two lion heads on the mantle of the fireplace. On the left lion, the back of the throat had a little hole. Rigel found that the lionhead key we got from the manor fit perfectly. The right lion head went click and we found the head now bent back. This is a bag of 200 platinum pieces in it and a shallow wooden case with legal papers in it and a thin black ledger.

The legal papers were with regard to the manor. 2/3 of the house was paid for by the Foxgloves; 1/3 by the Brothers. Over the last three months, payments for “Aiesha’s trip to Absalon” of 200 gp per week were made at the Brothers 7 Mill. A month and a half ago was the last payment … around the time of Aldrin’s death. The entries look to my untrained eye to be made by Aldrin. Who did the money belong to? What was this trip — Aiesha was dead too and must have been during the time these payments were being made. Was this some sort of code phrase or was it really planning for some sort of trip? Absalon is months away by travel, unless one goes by magic.

So now we sit in a building with three corpses and an enigma, and think.

Wealday, 13 Neth

I note that before retiring for the evening, Olithar cast magic upon Nolin and Rigel which seemed to improve their health somewhat. It was not healing of the usual sort, but somehow seemed to affect their whole body and vitality. He said it was a “restore” of some sort but seemed dismayed that he could do so little, mumbling to himself that if only he were more accomplished he could do so much better and apologizing for that being all he can do.

All that said, it seemed quite remarkable to me. While I still believe that the concept of deities is simply a means by which clerics focus their magical energies, it is clear that their faith in these imaginary entities is strong and is of great aid to them in their working of magic.

Oathday, 14 Neth

We awoke where we expected to, in the room that Sabin had identified as an arcane workshop. Now that he points them out to me I can see the features which mark it as such, although I myself had never been inside one until now. Reading about them is very different from seeing them (much like undead creatures.)

It is also apparent, now that we’ve read about him and seen a portrait of him, that the gaunt man depicted in the artwork here is, in fact, Vorel Foxglove.

There were books on what appeared to be necromancy in the room, and Rigel announced she was going to check them out. When she touched one, however, she had a vision of Vorel drinking a potion and apparently transforming into a lich. At the same time, however, she felt a strong rage at his doing this to his family.

From our point of view, however, her attention simply seemed to leave us for a moment before focus returned to her eyes and she relayed her story. At least this vision didn’t have her killing us or herself like some of these had. I quickly cast detect magic on the books, but they did not seem magic. I am puzzled about how these magical effects can take place without their being any apparent magic about. I’ll bet if Father were here, he’d have an explanation.

Ah, well now, I mustn’t be wishing for things that can’t be. The whole point of my lengthy trip was to improve and expand the scope of my powers. And I can feel that happening, although I wish Father had told me more of the process. “Each in the family has had to feel it for themselves,” he had said. “As your power grows, so must your control.”

We took the 10 necromancy books with us, although most are not in good shape because of mold and rot.

From this point forward, Rigel seemed a little on edge. She was constantly searching doors, locks, even bare areas of the floor searching for traps. That’s not a bad thing I suppose, but it seemed a little obsessive.

We entered the corridor and past another door we found a stairs down to a broken floor. It seems that the floor here had been broken through with pickaxes, revealing a much older stairway that led down. From the shaft came a foul stench like rotting meat.

Olithar announced he was closing the iron door behind us, primarily to prevent the rats from following us should then reenter this area. But unexpectedly, Avia drew her weapon and started thrashing around. More startlingly, red weals began to appear on her flesh even though there was no visible combatant. When she finally sat down, panting, she looked like she’d taken on ten men, with injuries to show for it. She was bleeding and in need of healing; whatever vision she’d had had been very real to her.

Olithar quickly moved to her and healed her a remarkable amount. While he as doing that, she described her experience. “I saw Aldrin Foxglove,” she explained, “and he was clawing at the floor. ‘For you, for you,'” he kept repeating. When he finally broke through, a host of ghouls had streamed from the hole and, in her vision, attacked her.

A bit of history? Or harbinger of things to come? I cast mage armor upon myself (as did Sabin) just to be safe. And the group descended, about 80 feet.

This led to a limestone cavern, dripping with water, and green and dark blue mold. Bones were scattered about. There lay before us three paths, and a rhythmic, pulsing sound emanated from all three. The one to the southwest appeared to be newer. The northwest and northern passages seemed as though they might connect and loop. We advanced slowly into the NW passage.

We had not gone far before we observed a ghoul with his back to a wall. And then we noticed another, and another .. and we flung ourselves into battle. I think there were 5 that we took out, at least initially. All told, I think 8 of them attacked our party. Avia, of course, was out in front taking them down, but my flaming sphere was doing some damage too!

The threat from the ghouls removed, Avia and Sabin followed the corridor a short ways to a large, sunken pool. It was in a cathedral like cavern, at least 30 feet high down to a pool of what smelled like sea water 50 feet below. Rivulets of water emerged from some gaps in the rocks and cascaded down to the pool. What appeared to be a small (6’ wide at most) island appeared to one side of the pool. It looked like it could be reached by a careful jump from shore, if desired. A slippery looking path spiraled down to the water’s edge. The pool appeared to be sloshing slightly, so it probably had access to the sea outside, and was tidal in nature.

There appeared to be two doors about across from where we stood, about halfway down to the water. Both were shut. From our vantage point and all around us, we could see bones and remains strewn about. The ghouls had obviously been here for some time. The stench was strong.

I must admit, about this time, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d signed up for. Working in the town, and helping disperse the goblin menace, now that’s what I had in mind. This area of necromancy and undead left me out of my element. Thank Go — I mean goodness for my flaming sphere. Fire is to undead like … like .. water to a cube of sugar. They practically dissolve in it, as near as I can tell.

We proceeded to the first door, and found it unlocked. We entered carefully.

The smell in here was especially strong. Initially upon entering we noticed the odd appearance of decor — a table, a large leather chair facing away from us, and a painting. Upon the wall was a large pattern of fungus or mold that almost looked like it had grown over a man. But when looked closely, the table was covered with crystal and maggots; the arms of the chair were sticky and red with blood, and the fungus made several of our party retch uncontrollably.

Before we could get a good look at the painting, we were “greeted” by a likeness of Aldrin Foxglove, sitting in the chair. Turning the chair around and looking right at Avia, it exclaimed “You’ve come to me! Now let’s consummate our hunger!” I merely remarked that he seemed a changed man, when his face seemed to twist in rage, and he rose as if to attack.

Avia struck him full on, and although he was clearly still a ghoul, his face lost its anger and he claimed “the hurter” was gone. “His lordship is at your mercy,” he sobbed.

Olithar cast bless upon us all and asked Aldrin “What are you doing down here?”

“I was doing the errands of the Brothers,” he responded. “They wanted to collect rats and fungus and find out about disease.”

I felt at unease, and threw a color spray such that it got both Aldrin and the evil moss wall. There was no reaction from either.

Avia confirmed that Aldrin was still evil, and that the fungus was very evil. Suddenly, Sabin announced that the fungus was actually his shadow, and made as if to eat it — as if anybody could understand the connection between the two statements. But before anyone could make a move to stop him, he caught himself in mid-reach, and seemed to shake it off.

At the same time Aldrin underwent a change again and he no longer looked so pitiful. If anything, he looked piteous. “you may call me the Skinsaw Man!” he exclaimed. He placed a mask over his face and his visage contorted … and then he looked like Avia.

I cast a flaming sphere on him. He seemed adept at dodging it, however. Avia, probably standing nearest to him, was incensed at seeing him assume her face and lashed out at him viciously. Sabin, too, was wicked with his weapon. Aldrin got a couple of attacks in on Avia that wounded her gravely, but nothing a cleric couldn’t help with. Giving up on the flame, I hit him with a couple of magic missiles and after the beating that he’d already taken from Sabin and Avia, that took the last vestiges of life from him. The Skinsaw Man quickly dissolved to nothing but a pile of rotted flesh and smelly clothes.

Olithar tried burning the “mold man” with oil and while it successfully burned, it did nothing to dispel the evil, according to Avia, other than to disperse it around the room as if it was now borne by the smoke.

The portrait was originally of Aiesha, but Aldrin had grotesquely altered it with blood and other gore to make it look more like Avia. In addition, there was a small collection of Avia-related bits: a used vial, a bit of her hair, a note she’d written. There were speculative drawings he’d made of her … suffice it to say that Avia felt Aldrin had disintegrated far too soon for her wrath to have been fully demonstrated.

From the room, we took a +1 war razor [204], and a stalker’s mask [207] which was made from human skin. Were one to wear it, one would find they could assume the face of a particular target, and make themselves faint and less detectable, making it easier to hide. They also would find it easier to attack the person whose face it was resembling. There was a ring of jumping [205], a +1 ring of protection [206], a cameo brooch with a picture of Avia in it (golden, with a gemstone) [208] and a small iron key [209]. We also picked up the broken, seven sided box [203] which we believe was used during the elder Foxglove’s failed attempt to lichify.

We inspected the pool of water but found nothing of note. The water appeared to be fairly deep. By our rough calculations, the water should not be here (and should not be tidal) as we thought we’d only descended about half the distance to the sea. But we found nothing to explain this apparent discrepancy.

Returning to the stairway by which we’d entered, Kane showed Olithar the pickaxes. Although most were destroyed or rotted, one seemed to still be in good condition. We identified it as a magic, +1 pickaxe. The diggings near the pickaxes apppeared to be recent in the sense of within the last few months, while much of the area down here seemed much older.

As we went to explore the last passage from the stairway and found more remains, some of which appeared to be human. Holding our noses, we did find among the bones a pearl ring [211], an adamantine long sword [212] and a hat of disguise [213]. While deciding how to best split these up we heard a thump from further down the passage, and upon investigating discovered that a large bat had apparently descended down an opening in the ceiling. It too seemed to be possessed of some sort of undeadness because it proved difficult to dispatch. But Avia’s and Sabin’s weapons, and my magic missiles again proved persuasive. Eight on one is overwhelming odds and we did succeed at making it a corpse again. Kane did find himself immobilized at one point, but the effect was temporary.

Thinking of the terrain above us, we concluded that the opening thru which it had descended must be the old well. But since the well went no deeper than this, that implies that at one time there was water here, and it was not the sea water we’d found in the pool but fresh water. What had driven the water away? Yet another puzzle.

We returned to the main hall to investigate the moldy stairway that seemed to be located over the stairway we’d just discovered. While we didn’t find any apparent connection, both Nolin and I smelled something burning. And faster than you could say “another fatal illusion” I was battling a manticore. Although it was very real to me, and I took damage from its tail, an instant later it was again a fake manticore before me. Olithar healed me, and discussion turned to what else we could do here.

The house was still full of mold and evil things, but it seemed beyond us to cure its condition. We still had two party members suffering from the effect of spore-exploding paintings, and they would probably be served best by getting them back to town. But there was the problem of the ever-vigilant undead swarms of crows sitting outside, which seemed intent on extending our stay. And it seemed there were still a few mysteries to solve here as well.

We went outside to inspect the cliff. None of us felt particularly competent at judging heights, but felt it was about 300 feet. We then tied together our ropes and went back down to the pool, dropping it over the side weighted with a rock, and we could tell that the bottom of the pool roughly was at sea level. This still didn’t explain why the water would rise so high, but there is obviously still magic in place here and that must be part of it.

On the way back, we stopped by briefly in Aldrin’s room and found that the mold was beginning to reform the “mold man” lump. That was disconcerting but, apparently, harmless to us.

We returned to the Foxglove family journals trying to understand better if there was something more we could do here by studying the history of the place. We learned:

• Rogers Craysbee was the caretaker of the manor during the times it was deserted — he may be of use in determining what’s been happening.

• The manor is about 80 years old and has always been in the Foxglove family. Local people started calling it The Misgivings because of the way it made them feel. There were reports of a huge batwinged devil.

• It was originally built by Vorel, who lived in it over 20 years. It was empty for about that long again before Aldrin’s parents moved in. It went empty again when they killed themselves about 40 years ago and now Aldrin had returned to a bad end.

• Mention was made of the Brothers of the Seven. Their meetings had been hosted at the house from time to time, and perhaps most oddly, the construction of the house had been funded by the Brothers, and after 100 years of ownership, the house and lands would revert to them.

It was decided that we would stay one more night and then try to get past the crows and return to Sandpoint.

Fireday, 15 Neth

Naught happened overnight, and so it was that in the morning, Olithar cast hide from undead upon all of us plus Nolin’s horse. Nolin and Rigel, being still affected by the strange disease, took the horse and left knowing they’d get to Sandpoint faster. A couple of flocks of crows noted them, but they could not fly faster than a galloping horse and soon fell behind. We, on the other hand, ran away to the northwest and none of the remaining flocks saw us. Reaching the road, we too turned to Sandpoint.

Which is where we are now. If ever one needed proof of evil in the world, The Misgivings is the place to obtain it. Things undead, disease, and harmful apparitions underscore that. Had Father told me of these things, I think I’d have … well, no, I wouldn’t have. I’d have dreaded them and perhaps not been so eager to “seek adventure” but I would have still ventured forth. I would still have made my way to Sandpoint and still have met up with those I now mostly consider my friends.

At least, that’s what I’d like to think, and we’ll never know different now.

Wealday, Neth 13

I’m disappointed that through an unfortunate accident, a few pages of my journal got a little wet and so my last entries are now smudged and unreadable. I must be more careful to close my journal and wrap it in something absorbent to avoid such mishaps in the future.

So to recap briefly, today I returned from a trip back to Sandpoint (or thereabouts) having taken a man we found to be suffering from ghoul disease to the cathedral for healing. When I returned, the party had decided to go to the MisGivings, which is the Foxglove family manor. Although I’ve very sure when we arrived that there were no animals of note visible, now that we want to leave there seems to be hundreds, maybe thousands of crows or ravens dangerously sitting outside the door, inviting us to try. Just try. Anyone getting too close to them — or too far from the house — seems to be an invitation for them to not-too-subtly herd the person back to the house.

But I’m ahead of myself. Much has happened since we arrived here.

We were in the entry hall, which apparently also served as the dining area, when a random check for magic objects detected that the monkey’s head with a rope/chain coming out of its mouth was in fact magic. However, unlike a shiny urn that radiates magic, or a dusty lamp, or a nice shield, nobody seemed particularly eager to go use the monkey. I think it is true that we prejudge the nature of magic by the vessel that contains it. Something shiny, clean and bright radiating magic will be picked up, touched, or handled before something dingy, grungy, or decayed looking. I shall have to remember that if ever I have cause to set a trap, or have cause to hide some magic.

In any case, this room has a stocked bookcase. Among the volumes I found were three detailing a history of the Foxglove family. This was more of a handwritten family history than a published reference book, and I spent a few moments reading the various entries. I noted a couple of things:

1) The first volume begins in 4620, or almost 90 years ago. While this is clearly not an ancient family history, it is surprising that a record of only 90 years would take three volumes. There must be significant detail here.
2) Judging from what little I’ve seen of his handwriting, and from the observations of the writer, the history appears to end with entries of Aldrin’s.
3) He speaks of Aiesha, whom he would marry, within the last year.
4) A cryptic note at the beginning, when the homestead was being located, mentioned that “the Brothers may help.”

While the books on this bookcase were interesting, upon entering the next room we discovered an entire room with books, floor to ceiling. And we also discovered many of them seem to be afflicted with mildew. Those of us who appreciate books find this to be a pity, such a fine library falling into such disrepair. There was a fine looking red and gold scarf [200] near an overturned chair. Oddly, the scarf showed no mold. A book of Varysian history lie open on the floor. In the fireplace, a stone bookend lie smashed into fragments.

Kane walked into the room and seemed to pantomime choking. This would have been odd enough, except it was accentuated by the scarf leaping from the floor and wrapping against his throat. We barely had time to rush forward before he was whipping the scarf away and panting.

Although we heard nothing, Kane had distinctly heard a woman’s scream. As the scarf pulled tightly against his throat, he had a vision of Aldrin before him, clearly angry, and his hand twisting the scarf tightly against Kane’s throat. Then it passed.

Olithar opened the drapes (also mildewy or moldy) to let in some light. We detected no magic, but Avia did momentarily sense some evil in the room, but it faded quickly. She could not tell to where it may have gone. We found it odd that there was no apparent source of moisture in the room that would explain the mildew.

We examined the bookend, and discovered that it had what appeared to be dried blood and hair, and maybe even skull fragments. Did Aldrin kill his fiancee/wife in this room? What powerful force caused that to be re-enacted? Or was this all for our consumption, to get us to believe that Aldrin had done this? After all, it seems certain we WERE expected to come here.

At this point, we just didn’t know.

So the party moved into another room off the dining room, which turned out to be something of a lounge or sitting room. It was rather smallish, but had some a large couch, and of course another fireplace. The couch, unfortunately, seemed to have some sort of white fungus on it. Rigel lifted it with her foot, but nothing seemed under it or around it. As Rigel examined the fireplace, several odd things happened at once.

First, she noted there was a movement of dust around the fireplace, as though somebody other than Rigel was moving near there. Second, Avia announced the presence of evil. At the same time, in case there was something corporeal and invisible, I threw down a caltrop. Some later said they heard a whispered “Laurie”, but I didn’t. I just knew with utter conviction, that it was dangerous to be there. I grabbed Rigel and told her we needed to leave — SHE needed to leave. She was trying to go check out another room to the west. I remember thinking, I need to get my daughter out of the house before it affected her too. She was resisting, arguing, typical for a child. Why wouldn’t she just listen to her mother? There wasn’t time for a discussion or an argument! How long would it take before she wandered down to the basement and discovered it? That mustn’t happen!

And as I grabbed her again with greater resolve, the memory faded. Olithar had cast remove fear upon me, but we still don’t know if that had an effect or if the effect wore off on its own. I found myself facing a perplexed but increasingly agitated Rigel, who was reaching for one of the 1379 knives she always has somewhere on her body, and I quickly released her, looking around at the party. I think it was Kane who said, “It happened to you this time, didn’t it?” I nodded, and described my experience.

We did go inspect the room to the west, which appeared to be a bathroom or at least a cleaning room. There was a washbin that had a decidedly diseased rat in it, unable to climb out. It was eyeless and clearly in distress. Nolin killed it.

We continued to the room in the NW corner of this floor. This appeared to be a parlor of sorts, with a remarkably preserved piano. The rest of the room showed extensive decay and rot; it made the piano stand out all the more. We opened the double doors to the outside to let some fresh air in. Olithar played a simple tune on the piano and announced with some surprise that it appeared to be in perfect tune! It was at this time that we noticed Kane’s eyes had glazed over a bit and he started swaying, almost as if dancing. Then he abruptly returned to us.

He’d had another vision. In his vision, he’d been dancing with a beautiful woman. She changed as they danced, with bruises appearing on her neck first, then deepening as her eyes bulged. Finally her lips turned blue and she’d dropped to the ground, a pile of dust, as the vision ended. Had this been Aiesha?

We may have been called to this house explicitly, presumably to face some evil entitye, but the house was also trying to talk to us. There were tragedies that had occurred here, some of them, quite possibly, fairly recently. How long had this house been cursed? And what precipitated it? Were the players we were seeing evil themselves, or also victims of some evil influence? Curses don’t just drop out of the sky, and ordinary people don’t wake up one day and decide to kill a family member.

It was time, we decided, to go upstairs. We’d explored everything on the ground floor. While some wanted to go see what was in the basement that I’d wanted to keep “Laurie” away from, we figured it more prudent to make sure nothing corporeal could be following us down.

Near the top of the stairs, we found a hallway with several doors. We opened the one nearest us and entered.

There appeared to be a child sized bed, and a toybox, filled with toys suitable for a young boy. While it’s not clear who may have occupied this room, it seems fair to assume it was at least a young boy. About half the people hear a mournful sobbing. It was sorrowful, but none of us had the reaction that Avia did. Our paladin ran into the fireplace and cowered, trembling. We just stared in utter surprise. After a short time she sheepishly rose from the fireplace, took command of her countenance again, and reported that for a short time she’d thought she was Aldrin. He had run in fear from his parents. His father was trying to kill his mother, and his mother was trying to kill him. He rememberes his father had bulging eyes.

This lent a little more credence to the possibility that Aldrin was already dead, but did little more to solve the mystery of the MisGivings.

We continued north in the hall and entered the room to the right. This should have been the room above the room downstairs that had had the odd stained glass pictures. We were not disappointed. This room had

1 glass of a pale ghostly scropion
1 glass of a gaunt man holding out his arms while a dozen bats hung from them
1 glass of a moth with a skull like pattern on his wings
1 glass of a tangle of dull green plants with bell-shaped flowers
1 glass of a young maiden sitting beside a well while a dog-sized spider dropped beside her

It was Kane who recognized these were all depictions of ingredients common to necromancy spells.

Sabin remarked that these could be used to create an apotheosis; that is, turning one’s self into a lich. And with that statement, some of the pieces fell into place. I suspect what we see here is the end result of an evil spell gone awry. One of Aldrin’s ancestors, perhaps, had dabbled in the dark arts and created something instead that consumed this home or this land.

We went across the hall into what turned out to be a gallery. Here hung several portraits. They were dusty and covered with cobwebs and some mold. Olithar began to uncover them. Upon one wall we found

• a tall middleaged man – VOREL FOXGLOVE. Dark hair, blue eyes, blue noble clothes
• a stern faced woman with flex of gray – KASANDRA FOXGLOVE. brunette, blue dress
• a little girl – LAURIE FOXGLOVE.

All these were about the same size, and appear to have been done at about the same period in time. On the south wall, we found

• TREVOR FOXGLOVE – tall, thin, narrow face, thin mustache
• CYRLIE FOXGLOVE – long red hair, young woman
• ALDRIN FOXGLOVE – a boy child
• SENDELI FOXGLOVE – a girl child
• ZEVA FOXGLOVE – a girl child

As Olithar uncovered Zeva’s portrait, which did seem especially obscured, a dramatic change occurred. The room immediately chilled, to the point where we could see our breaths. And all but two of the portraits turned into ghastly versions of themselves.

Kasanda and Laurie slumped into misshapen tumor-ridden corpses. Trevor displayed a long cut upon his throat, with blood running down his chest. Cyrlie blackened and charred, and appeared to develop many broken bones. Aldrin’s hair fell out, and his face contorted into a ghoul like appearance.

And worst of all, Vorel’s picture rapidly developed a spreading mold, filling the room cloudily with a muffled explosion.

Cyrlie and Sendeli were unaffected, and that suggested to us that to this day, they were still unaffected. We wondered if they were fated to die, or if by avoiding this place they had managed to dodge their fate.

Moments later the portraits were back to normal, although the air was still thick with a moldy dust. This was not an illusion like some of the other visions seemed to be; it was magic, and it had really happened. Every one of us saw it. And worse, Nolin and Rigel thought they saw a mild rash on their skin, although we saw nothing. We hoped it was an active imagination.

We exited the gallery and entered the west most room. This too seemed to be a bedroom, but contained naught but a desk. Olithar was inspecting the desk, which had a dark stain on it, when he picked up a fragment of wood and stared at it. For a moment he hesitated and before we could do anything, he put it back down.

He’d just had a vision where he’d picked up a dagger, not a piece of wood. In his mind, he had just killed the person he loved most, and wanted nothing more than to end his own life. Whether thru luck or fortitude we’ll never know, but Olithar was able to resist the urge and put the “dagger” down. Had he taken action against himself he probably would have hurt himself badly before we intervened. While the wood was not a dagger, it did have a dull point to it.

We theorized this was Trevor’s room, judging from the wound that appeared on his painting, and that he had killed his wife and burned her body before tossing it over the cliff. Then he’d killed himself.

We resolved to watch each other more closely as we explored. There was no telling when one of us might become a danger to ourselves or the rest of us.

We entered a room to the northeast, only to find the whole room caked with a spongy green layer of green-black mold. Many of us heard a child’s voice ask, “What’s that on your face mommy?” And with that sound, Sabin began clawing at his own face. He was able to hurt himself some before we restrained him and he came around. We theorized that Kasanda and Laurie had met their end this way.

We entered the room to the north. Like downstairs, it was a washroom.

Lastly, the room to the NW found a smashed bed and the walls and paintings all slashed. One painting was intact, but turned around. We heard a shrill angry woman’s voice say “What DO you get into in the damp below?” Rigel looked dizzy and staggered for a moment before charging at Avia, of all people. Her dagger caught a surprised Avia, who then easily subdued her until the moment passed. Rigel guiltily put away her dagger as Olithar turned the picture around. We recognized it as Aiesha. While there is some mold in this room, the dust here appears to have accumulated over months, perhaps, not years.

Having explored every room on this floor, it was time to go up again.

The stairs exited in a workroom, which appeared to have a leaky room because there were several pots and urns spread about to catch dripping water. There were woodworking and carpentry tools here, none in particularly good shape.

Entering the hallway, we found several storerooms and closets. Then we heard an unmistakable scream of horror and pain from the end of the hall.

The door on the right was locked, and seemed to be from where the scream had come. Rigel worked the lock while we heard a sobbing noise from inside. Finally, with Kane’s aid, Rigel was able to unlock the door. Avia charged inside.

This seemed to be a bedroom. It was cold and damp, and there was a mold encrusted chimney. A mirror angled toward the window, and sitting in front of the mirror was a woman gently rocking. She looked a bit like Aiesha might have looked if she were rotting. There was a bedsheet wrapped around her. The face may have been contorted in fury or fear.

Somebody, I think Avia, shattered the mirror, and she almost seemed to recover her senses. She screamed, “Aldrin, I can smell your fear! You’d be in my arms soon!” Then she let out a shriek which had Rigel running off and cowering in fear. We thought briefly about letting her lead us to Aldrin but too late — we were blocking the door and hallway and she’d already grabbed Nolin and given him a good squeeze. It actually hurt him quite badly; she was not all she seemed. I lit her up with a couple of magic missiles but she was focused on Nolin. She squeezed harder as Avia beat on her mightily. Between four of us beating on her, we eventually killed her, and none too soon for Nolin. And when Aiesha died, there was no corpse. Most of her sort of melted into the floor. Avia blessed the mess.

We examined the other rooms up there and the thing of note was that I did find two scrollcases in one of the rooms. In that same room, Olithar had another “experience”, wherein he strongly remembered feeling excited about his expectations for his life, but having to set all that on the shelf because he had to marry that harpy. Feelings of resentment, bitter disappointment, and regret filled him, but he again managed to gain control over them. Even so, the feeling of what could have been was strong to him.

The scrolls I picked up were [201] lightning bolt, and [202] keen edge.

The last room had two notable stained glass windows like its companions below. One was a dark-haired woman with pale skin and green eyes. She was wearing red and black clothing and wielding a jagged iron staff. The other had a hole in it that was covered by canvas, but it appeared slightly burned as though something had been set alight and gone through.

There was a trap door above us, and Nolin was able to repair the ropes and pulleys used to open it. Gaining access was anticlimatic. We climbed down and discussed our plans.

Before going down to the basemen, we thought we might rest up and regain our spells. Nobody thought it would be smart or clever to stay in the house, so we resolved to go up the road a mile or three. And that’s when we found a large number of birds had an uncharacteristic interest in us. And that’s where we came in, above.

And so it is during my watch that I am writing this entry. Despite the birds, we decided it was safer to sleep outside than in. And much to our relief and surprise, nothing unusual happened.

Oathday, 14 Neth

Bad news. The marks on Nolin and Rigel are now visible to us too, and they are beginning to show signs of tumors and pustules. They need attention ASAP. We need to resolve this so that we can get them back to town.

So we reentered the house, and headed for the downstairs. We find there a kitchen, but it too is in disrepair and exhibits molds and rat droppings. There are large cracks in the basement — about a foot wide — which would adequately explain the rats. And in fact, we were able to hear the movement of a bunch of what we can only assume were rats, coming to greet us. A flask of oil and a flame served to barricade the entrance, but that would only last for so long.

We quickly began exploring, and discovered one room with some beds and the pantry, which seemed filled with as many rats as we had found birds outside. We quickly closed that door.

We found a wine cellar, with naught but broken bottles. To the south, we finally found a hallway which led to a locked iron door. After much effort, Rigel and Kane were able to open it. This room would be beneath the rooms with stained glass windows in them, above us, and this one did not disappoint.

There was one window of a thin man drinking a green potion. And another of a thin man diseased and decayed as if dead for several weeks. Sabin offered that this had the look of an arcane workshop. There were three iron bird cages, each holding a corpse of a rat.

We have not yet found Aldrin or for that matter anything large an evil down here, but we’ve also not yet explored all the rooms. I hope this journal survives me if I do not.

== Toilday, Neth 12 ==

Today we discovered undead things were hanging around the insane asylum. Or possibly lunatics were bothering the undead, but it appeared more the former than the latter. Nevertheless, just to be safe, we bound up the insane guy we came to see and I put him uncomfortably on a horse and took him against his will to Sandpoint, where Nothing Odd Ever Happens. We told him we might be able to make him feel better there; that always quiets them for a while. Father Zantus always knows what to do with our less advantaged friends.

I had a good dinner in a soft bed. Wonder what the rest are doing?

== Wealday, Neth 13 ==

Got up early, took a refreshing shower, and felt clean and ready to meet the day. Ah, it’s good to be alive. Retrieved the horse and returned to the party.

Met up with the rest of the party, having left our patient in Sandpoint to heaven only knows what sort of horror of “treatments”. I told him with great sincerity, “you’re now in your happy place” and he stared at me in such a manner that I think he may have believed me, or wished me dead — the expressions are so similar.

And having returned, I see that sure enough, with the insane guy gone, all the undead are much more quiet. It may have just been a neighbor noise issue. I know he was annoying. Could he really been so disruptive so as to literally wake the dead? I suppose that phrase had to come from somewhere.

So, using the key one of the undead gave us, we went over to the Amityville Horror house and looked around. Our paladin gave the obligatory “I sense evil” soliloquy and then we looked around a bit while soaking up the ambience. We found darkness and severed animal heads and mold, but no walls with “redrum” written upon them. Once we were thoroughly disheartened, we took a break and wrote in our journals as our therapists have suggested we do whenever we’re feeling down.

Spirits raised, I’m now pumped to look at more depressing stuff.

Sunday, 3 Neth

After much discussion among ourselves, we determined the highest level of comfort seemed to be reached with everyone maintaining their own finances. We shall sell off much of the items we’d recovered and then split the proceeds evenly. If a weapon or armor or magical item is found that somebody else wants to carry or use, they can make a case that it is a ‘group item’ and ought not count against their share, or failing that, have the value of that item deducted from their share.

Things like healing potions and magic weapons we have generally agreed benefit the group as a whole even if wielded or used by only one person at a time, so they have an almost automatic exclusion from group sales. We do not have enough healing potions to have one per person at this time, and while my quarterstaff skills are indeed impressive, those wielding edged weapons are generally closer to the front lines and even more impressive in their ability to slice and dice foes, and it is no small surprise they also tend to be in greater need of healing. I was, however, granted a silver dagger [107] as I do have skill with a dagger, and silver weapons sometimes serve a useful purpose.

It was in the midst of this accounting that we learned Sedgewick was leaving us. He did do us the courtesy of letting us know. Shalelu, the ranger elf, had mentioned something of undead in Magnimar to him and quicker than you could say “ooo, shiny” he was off with her to go score another original tail — oops, I mean original tale, and song.

So we had one less share to allocate so while it was sad to see him go (Rigel seemed particularly affected by his leaving), it did mean a little more for the rest of us. We did decide to allocat one share of the proceeds for ‘group purposes’ which is to say the healing potions I spoke of. If we are wildly successful, it may someday be enough to buy larger equipment like carts or the like. This time, we bought 3 cure moderate wounds potions [177][178][179] at 800gp total and that used up all but 16.8 gp.

Besides, since learning the additional spells I have less need of the weapon physical; a thing I think I will grow to appreciate as time passes. But I get ahead of myself.

My share was 816 gold, 8 silver (or the equivalent, at least.) Add that to the money I already had and I appear to be a rich man indeed. I need to consider how best to carry such wealth around with me. If carried all in coin, it weighs me down some 16 pounds! But some things constrained to reduce this problem for me.

For one thing, I’ve known for some time that I wanted to consult with other sorcerors to learn more spells. It’s not going to just happen one day that I wake up with a new spell, so this newfound wealth provided me the means to seek out a … well, perhaps not a master, but more of a mentor. A paid mentor, of course, but Elgin charged a fair price of 100gp per week, which covered materials, a solid but utilitarian lunch on Moonday, Wealday, and Fireday, and even, I suppose, repairing the bit of fire damage his laboratory suffered as I practiced new spells.

But I can say that after 3 weeks and 300 gp, I do now exhibit a hesitant mastery of the spells detect poison, mending, mage armor, color spray, and flaming sphere in addition to my others. And as with my other fire spell, the flaming sphere seems to burn a little hotter than one might expect. I did not reveal all my secrets to Elgin, but being a sorceror himself he did raise his eyebrows and remark, “I suspect there are some scales in your heritage,” but said nothing again on the subject.

I also bought for myself a better distance weapon than a sling. It’s not fancy, but at least my heavy crossbow [182] might actually hurt something physically rather than emotionally (“mommy, that man threw sling pellets at me and almost got me in the eye”). After all that, my funds were down to 516.8gp – 50gp – 2gp for some bolts + 90gp I had previously for a total of 554.8 gp. Still richer than I’ve felt in a while.

That man Foxglove still is taken with our group and wants to come along sometime. I’ve not been rude to him, but several others in the group think that even socializing with him is a waste of our time. Perhaps so, but my father raised me better. I’ll make no promises but see no harm in an occasional conversation.

Others in the group had also taken some time to find trainers/mentors and improved their skills. So it was we all met together again at roughly the same time to return to Thistletop and deal with some unfinished business.

We arrived without incident, although we did find that the “bramble camp” appeared to have been used and there actually was a few goblin bodies there. Oddly, they were not Thistletop clan. (I’m actually able to recognize this sort of thing now.) But we hadn’t seem these markings before.

The bridge was still down, as we left it. We thought about camping here but felt that Thistletop was much more defensible in case of attack, and unanimously agreed to raise the bridge and enter the “fortress”.

This was done without any trouble; Kane and Nolin climbed up with ropes and we restored the bridge. The area around and in the fortress appeared undisturbed.

Olithar was going on and on about something with his maps, and we found out why it pays to have an anal — I mean, detail oriented cleric along. His map seemed to indicate a room or closet or something which seemed to have no door. Since this was close to the, ahem, bathroom, the room with the wall we wanted to search had a less than favorable coating on it, but Olithar and Kane worked their priestly spells to purify the area. Upon an intense search Rigel did find an entrance, and there was a chest behind this door. Rigel checked for a trap, found none, then picked the lock and managed to dodge the trap she didn’t see 🙂

The chest was old, pre-Nualia for sure. Upon opening it we found a giant pile of coins, and items. A treasure chest to be sure.

After a period of time, we compiled this inventory:

7432 copper pieces
2490 silver pieces
89 gold pieces
3 platinum pieces

for a net value of 442.32 gp. Not bad! Being lightly loaded, I volunteered to carry the gp and pp as they could be taken without need for cart and oxen 🙂

Plus there were

[183] a leather pouch with 34 malakite gems (badly flawed); perhaps 1gp each
[184] a medium chain mail shirt
[185] a medium masterwork scimitar (Olithar groaned; he’d just bought one)
[186] a set of masterwork manacles
[187] a gold holy symbol for Sarenray
[188] a jade necklace
[189] a fine blue silk gown w/silver trim

This seemed a good time to sleep, so guards were set and rest was had.

All but Olithar, who slept but had a dream where a voice said to him from somewhere deep, “The Whisperer will have vengeance.”

Perhaps an undigested bit of beef.

Monday, 4 Neth

And so it was that we arose rested and returned to the lower levels. I and Sabin cast Mage Armor upon ourselves and trudged on. Didn’t take long before we found a room that didn’t quite seem empty. Olithar cast detect undead and did indeed find a moderate aura centered on some sarcophagi. 3 shadows emerged from 3 alcoves. We learned, unfortunately, that these creatures could sap strength from our fighters, and they not only became wounded but weak. Kane, Avia, and Sabin all were affected. However, my flaming sphere proved most useful in helping defeat the shadows, and the fact that I could create it and manipulate it from a modest distance made me very happy. Thank you Elgin!

Olithar was able to restore most if not all of Sabin’s strength, but that was all the magic he had for today. The others would need to cope until tomorrow.

Not too far from here appeared to be a couple of rooms with access to pools! Upon further inspection, we concluded it was one pool that had flooded both rooms. At some time in the past, an earthquake, explosion, or some other significant force had cause the walls to collapse and allow water to enter. It was unclear if there was a flow, or whether this was actually a stagnant pool. The rooms themselves seemed ornately decorated; not in an extravagant sense, but in an artistic sense. There were murals and carvings on the walls of the rooms. One mural depicted a tall mountain, and a stern face above the palace in the picture. Below lay an immense city of spires.

This was all interesting enough, but then we noticed in the pool was a giant golden helmet. I mean GIANT, as in “was once worn by”. Couldn’t tell if it was gold-plated or actually gold but all that became irrelevant when it turned to face us. The water here seemed to be 3 to 10 feet deep, so ropes were brought out and people secured before approaching the water (and the helmet). Olithar tried speaking Thasselonian to the helm, whereupon it stood up and we saw the largest seafood dinner EVER. A giant crab was using the helmet as a home. Weapons were launched but between the armor it effectively wore, and its own natural carapace, we didn’t seem to be doing much.

Then Olithar used magic to heat the metal. Clever! He essentially cooked it in an upside down pot! Yes it took some more blows, but it was like cooking a steak without cutting it from the flank. In no time at all, the water around it was steaming and it had stopped moving. Get me some butter! (We did eat well this day.)

Now able to search the pool, we found

3537 silver pieces
645 gold pieces
[190] 40 precious stones (about 10gp each)
[191] a jade amulet (radiated magic)

The amulet, we found, added +1 natural armor. It was determined this magic could not help me, as I already have developed, it seems, a tougher skin and thus already have a better natural armor than others. It went to Rigel.

We discussed if the helmet might be more valuable as a relic than as something to be melted down. Need to think about that some.

[192] helmet, giant (~300 pounds)

This seemed a good place (and time) to rest again. We set up “the usual guards”.

Toilday, Neth 5

The night passed uneventfully. After searching around some more in the laboratory (and seeing the results of what could only have been gruesome experiments) we found a seven pointed star object that looked like it might be the key we need to enter the room behind the double doors.

[193] surgical tools
[194] silver and gold 7-pointed star studded with nodules and spikes

Key inserted, door unlocked, and …

This room was very warm, in no small part to the brazier-style fire in the middle of the room. For an old room, this fire seemed very active. That suggested it was magical. Nevertheless, heat is heat and while it seems to affect me a little less than my companions, it was still uncomfortable. Corners of the room had golden candles. There was a 7-sided star on the wall opposite us. The entire room radiated strong magic (enchantment).

And Avia immediately detected evil.

Trask and Sabin, consequently, immediately cast Mage Armor. Kane blessed us all.

And then the giant wolf-like creature with primate hands and feet stepped into the light and was a bit clearer to us. It didn’t look pleasant. Olithar cast protection from evil on Nolin, and I started up a flaming sphere. It seemed that only magic weapons could hit it.

The creature started blinking, which indicated it was sometimes in our plane and sometimes not. That made it harder to hit, but also made it harder to hit us. I started up a second flaming sphere. After a round or two of maybe hitting it, maybe not, and after what appeared to be a ferocious blow by Avia, it disappeared.

After a moment of making sure it had not reappeared, we searched the room. We found

[195] ever-lit candles (30)
[196] coffer
[197] seven-pointed ring — magic

The ring, we learned, generated a wall of force shield in front of the wearer.

There was some discussion about who should wear the ring, but it sounded like I was not going to be gifted with it.

Dear Father,

This. Is. Awesome.

This letter won’t get sent for some time, of course, because I’m still in danger of being fried or stabbed or electrocuted at any moment. If it is found on my dead body I hope somebody will have the good grace to send it along. The last time I was this close to death was, I think, when I broke our magic pitcher that we normally kept on the kitchen table. It always had cool, fresh water and I vividly recall you had me by the throat for “carelessly destroying such a valuable item”. As a ten year old, of course, I couldn’t imagine why you might not just go buy another, but that’s not always possible, is it? There is nothing like living on the edge and by your own wit, and going without fresh water for a time to drive home the value of such an item, and to really understand why, of course, glue or even a skilled glass artisan could not restore such an item to working condition.

I get it now. It’s magic. Sorry about that, almost 8 years later.

You had said that adventuring “gets in your blood” and you made it sound like some sort of horrible yet fascinating disease. And it is, really, isn’t it? You do come to like that prickly feeling that runs down your back when you hear a sound behind you and you remember with a sinking feeling that you did not close and lock the door you just came through, don’t you? And you can’t really explain it to anyone who hasn’t been there and felt it too.

Someday when I return you’ll get to read my entire journal, of course. And I hope that my writings will raise the temperature of your blood like my reading of yours did. And speaking of blood .. there’s more to our heritage than you’ve said, isn’t there? Sure, I knew about the claws, and you hinted at other things, but you said they would only reveal themselves “in due time”. And now I find that fire captures my fancy, and the one spell I have that sets my hands aflame … it seems to be stronger than the ones others do. It seems I have an affinity for fire, or it for me. What other secrets will I learn?

No matter. It’s all good. And you can probably tell I’m greatly enjoying this search for adventure I’m on. I’ve found it, by the way. I’m with a group that is trying to defeat some sort of demon seductress or maybe succubus, or — I don’t know. It’s hard to keep up. She wants to destroy a nearby town, and there’s been plenty of evil around this place, including shrines and altars to LaMashTu. But it’s not too hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys, and the bad guys ARE losing.

At Thistletop (I don’t know if you know where that is, but I’ll assume you do because I’m not going to give a geography lesson) we were trying to find out more about this Nualia and her actions here. We killed a goblin chieftain, or king, or something, and declared a whole lot of stuff ours now: healing potions, weapons, and armor. The goblins have taken over the surface and created some crude structures, but this rock has been here lots longer than they have and there are subchambers below the surface where people – or creatures – are digging up old artifacts to assist Nualia in her plot to destroy Sandpoint. We’ve killed all (I think) of the goblins here, but there are others — bugbears, giant geckos, and the like. Even other humans!

We discovered two very different ones. One could have been me in a different universe — she was a scholar first, and she gave no care to the effects of her research. It was all about the knowledge for her. The paladin said she was evil, but is that just what happens when the books rule you? We nearly killed her at first, but then revived her, talked with her, and sent her on her way. She was so … cold. She was respectful but really into her research. Had I not taken this journey, that might have been me in a few years. The room she was in was a wealth of knowledge to the right person. I recognized bits and pieces of it, but she freely admitted she was helping research ancient artifacts and yes, spells. Lyrie, her name was, but she wasn’t anything special to look at.

Nolin, of our group, took pity on a horse we found that likely was destined to be a goblin meal. It’s interesting; he seems to have a way with animals while also having a way with a particularly big looking sword. Glad he’s on our side but who could have known he was an animal handler too?

Oh, and the other human was mercenary through and through. And really, not very good. He surrendered rather than be killed, and then offered to join US! I should think not. If he changes sides that easily, I’m not sure I’d trust him at my back. We took his possessions and sent him on too. Unfortunately, as a sorcerer, I found his booty of weapons and armor to be wholly unsuitable for my use.

As we continued exploring we found a few unusual things. One was some sort of land squid — it looked like a squid but could walk on land. We chose not to disturb it, as we weren’t sure if we could handle its tentacles. It didn’t see us. And there was a room ..

The door to this room had raised figures of human women giving birth to horrible abominations. Our bard, just had to go in … and upon entering what appeared to be a place of unholy worship, he promptly drew the attention of 4 hellhounds, or something resembling that. They took great gouges out of him and — even THIS exhilarates me — they had an unearthly howl that drove Rigel and I away in unexplainable fear. We both tried to crowd into the same corner of the same distant room which, truth be told, wasn’t half bad until we awkwardly regained our senses and pretended we actually hadn’t been huddled against each other.

Being that close to her, I suppose I should check my belongings!

We returned to the room in time to see the last of the hounds reduced to ashes or dust by our fighters. The bard was barely alive — actually, I was told he had been near death several times — and the party was exhausted. It was in this state that we met the bugbear and the mercenary (did I mention the bugbear?) within a few minutes of catching our breath. I guess noise carries underground, eh?

My friends were surprised when I jumped into this fray but I just felt so … alive. Of course our claws were something you told me about early on, but you didn’t tell me everything about our heritage, did you? Oh I know you did say “more will be revealed when you are ready” but I’ve noticed an increasing fascination – no, that’s not the right word – study, perhaps, of fire. The one fire spell I have I seem to be able to cast better than our other mage but I can’t describe the technique I’m using to him. The flame is brighter and I believe the fire is hotter. And yet, for all that, I seem to burn myself even less easily than before.

Ah, but I mentioned the fire already didn’t I? It’s hard to focus sometimes.

What surprises await me? Part of me wishes you’d told me more, and part of me is looking forward to the discovery.

No matter. But I don’t see how you ever gave this up. The thrill is addictive. Did Mother make you stop? Would that be enough? I don’t know if it would be enough for me to simply be ordered to stop. I feel like there’s so much more yet, and I simply MUST experience it.

When we chased the bugbear, it went into a room that seemingly had a secret panel, because when we killed him he was frantically searching along a wall. And now, briefly, we are collecting our thoughts and belongings before descending deeper into this rock via the secret passage we’ve just opened.

I’m sorry if this letter is hard to follow. It is hastily written in an uneven hand by your very excited son, and I fear I haven’t related things in exactly the order they happened. But it’s pretty much right. I mean, if it — oh, it looks like the party is ready. When I return you’ll have to read my entire journal, as it is more structured and pedantic and proper and calm and easier to read. But after today I just felt like I had to send a letter that would get there sooner. I had to share. Even if it won’t really get sent until I return to the city. Or my body does.

But I think I’m getting more powerful. I think I feel it. I think I’ll survive. Perhaps .. perhaps even vanquish. Was it this way for you?

your giddy son,
Trask

Oathday, Lamashan 10

It’s a shame, really, that we more or less ran out of goblins. I must give credit to the group for the clever ways in which we lured one goblin after another out onto the bridge and into the woods to their ultimate demise. How many total? Six? a dozen? I lost count. Finally, they stopped coming out, but it wasn’t clear if natural selection had thinned the herd of the stupid ones or whether they just had no more to send.

So a last final attempt, Sedgwick tried changing his illusion from a hated dog to what we thought would be a respected Tsuto. However, I found myself eyeing the goblins with a newfound respect. I’d thought the goblins to be vermin, slightly more evolved than rats and unfortunately bearing a slight resemblance to we bipedal humans. But when the goblin at the gate saw Tsuto, and saw him gesturing to come over, and responded with a rude gesture involving a single finger, I finally found something likable about the butt ugly critters. Wow, they hated Tsuto too! Really sucked to be him. Well, to have been him.

It made me chuckle a bit at Tsuto’s expense, seeing that gesture. And it reminded me that the goblins really could think, even if they chose to react most of the time instead. Nevertheless, we were still on the wrong side of the gate. We thought some more.

We decided to inspect the base of the island. Maybe there was some clever, secret way in. And after a few hours of nighttime swimming later, we could tell that .. well, no, there didn’t seem to be.

We decided that we would need to do a frontal assault after all. But perhaps our illusion of Tsuto could still do us some good if he appeared to be bringing us back as prisoners. Even if they hated him, they’d probably not fire upon him as he neared the gate. And then once the gate was opened …

Only hiccup in this plan was that if were were challenged, still none of us spoke goblin, and that would serve to end the ruse quickly. But there was no way around it. The best we could do is comprehend languages, so we could understand but not respond.

And then fate smiled.

A returning goblin party stumbled over our camp in the morning, and we made quick work of them. But more importantly, they bore a halfling prisoner, who was soon freed. Kanelbene, was his name I think. (It’s always tricky spelling people’s names, as they can be so creating in spelling it sometimes.)

But he also spoke goblin! He’d been waylaid before the original raid on the town and held prisoner.

A halfling who spoke goblin! What better accomplice for our disguised Tsuto! Now our plan could not fail. Much.

So after carefully secreting weapons on our persons so that each behind us could easily grab them when battle broke out, we were “led” across the bridge. But upon coming out to meet us, the gate goblin quickly recognized the ruse when he recognized a cape from one of the goblins we’d killed, and called out “intruders!” Immediately a fog (of our making) surrounded us and obscuring us from both the archers in the towers and the fighters rushing out at the alarm. I think we killed six or seven before they stopped coming.

From the outside this had looked like something of a garrison, but once inside it looked a little better than a hovel. It had clearly been constructed from reused lumber of various types and sizes, and “decorated” with horse and dog head trophies. A pair of bat wings stood out on one wall, and provided just the right ambience for a roomful of decaying small critter heads. Olithar snagged a steel, pearl handled knife [1100].

Avia and Sedgwick headed up the west tower to take out the guards. It proved exceedingly easy, from the account they relayed later.

Another room led to a partially covered outdoor area, in which there were several of the goblin ‘dogs’. We chose to not go there right away.

But inside another room we found the king, or chieftain, or head honcho of this tribe. And he had some well trained warriors with him that were either training or demonstrating to him their consummate skills, and a chanter or sorceror by his side as well. Add in an unusually large gecko and it looked for a while like we may have bitten off more than we could chew.

My attacks at close quarters aren’t anything special, and I am less able to survive hits my companions take, so I was tending to attack from the rear. I especially was trying to take out the chanter, as I suspected he was generating magic to aid the fighters. The one time I found myself in close quarters, my burning hands worked nicely to heat things up. But most of the time, it was magic missiles. Avia and Sabin were their usual effective bloody selves and ultimately we did triumph. Healing all around was dispersed before we started gathering their — er, I mean OUR — belongings.

Oathday, Lamashan 10

The fact that there is an entry here at all rather foreshadows the result of our skirmish with the goblins. And that, truly, is what it turned out to be — a skirmish, not a battle. Despite their superior numbers, they could not overcome a significant handicap: they were goblins.

There was 10-12 of them, and although there was a line of archers at the rear to pepper us with arrows, there aim was as good as mine with my darts. For the most part, their strategy didn’t harm us. Several including myself had minor wounds, but my two magic missiles gave more damage than I took. I was hoping to use burning hands to good effect, but the rest of our group was so eager to engage the little pests that I couldn’t use it for fear of harming friends.

Friends. Do I have friends? I guess slowly and imperceptibly I may have gained some. I at least have comrades in arms, and we fight to protect each other as much as ourselves. While my magic missiles are unerring, I must admit I admire the smiting that the paladin and half orc are capable of. From what father told me before I left, as I learn more spells and gain more experience at handling magic, I will become valuable in different ways, but there’s something attractively visceral about being able to cleave an enemy in two.

In any case, Olithar was able to do a group heal which fixed all the minor wounds I received in the batt- I mean, skirmish. A quick search among all the bodies revealed all of 10gp. Still, that’s almost one gp per goblin which is unusually rich from my limited experience.

We continued on to the coast, somewhat more wary now but also somewhat more confident. I was carrying the scroll of burning hands we retrieved earlier, as well as the scroll of cure light wounds and the metal wand of shocking grasp.

Upon reaching the coast (and it wasn’t much farther) we followed the treeline along the coastline for a ways until we were able to catch sight of what Sedgwick said was Thistletop. It was a tall, roughly cylindrical island separated from the mainland by only a hundred feet or two, if that, and joined to it by a rope bridge. Atop it appeared to be some sort of garrison or barracks — in any case, it had visible guards.

Well before we reached its base, however, we found a small cove with what appeared to be a partly underwater cave leading into the mainland. It spoke well of our luck to find this, as it was low tide and during high tide, the opening might not even be visible. As it was, it seemed likely that one would end up having to swim underwater to truly examine it.

Having some aptitude in that, I volunteered, as did Sabin. Sabin had the advantage, however, of incredibly good eyesight in low light, and we didn’t have to go far in before a) we were forced underwater, and b) the light became decidedly more faint. He quietly made his way to a chamber inside where he observed what the locals call a ‘bunyip’. It looked like a very large sea lion or walrus, with unhelpful elements of a shark, and apparently it is carnivorous and does have a reputation for sometimes attacking boats and eating fishermen. The cavern also featured some sort of opening from which there was light, so we assumed it opened to the sky (probably some dozens of feet up judging from the heigh of the cliff we must be beneath.)

Upon reporting this, there was a vigorous discussion of the bunyip’s purpose. We thought at first it might be a guard for the goblins, but finally concluded it might also just be a sea creature, and we had found its home. We also decided killing it might be hard and really of no value. And so we spared its life. (Or fate spared ours; one never knows.)

As part of that discussion, we decided an attack by sea was ill-advised. It wasn’t at all clear we even could reach the pinnacle of Thistlestop via ascent, and even if we could, we would be under constant attack by guards from above since such an approach could hardly be construed as stealthy. Well, strike that — it could be if we did it at night, but climbing wet, slippery rocks in the dark would seem idiotic to even the dimmest among us.

So it was we decided to ascend the mainland cliff and scout the rope bridge. This was also not simple; unless we truly meant to go straight up (see detriments listed above) we needed to backtrack some and find a way to “ascend” through the woods where the land was lower and more level.

Exploring in this direction, as we neared the top of the headlands we found a thicket of brush and bramble. There seemed to be some game trails which led through it here and there, but the tallest among us had to hunch over to avoid getting caught on the brambles. The passages seemed to be a 2-4 feet wide and maybe five feet high.

Before too long, we found these game trails seemed to lead to a what appeared to be a more heavily used trail. It was not much taller, but noticeably wider. We surmised we were getting close to the rope bridge and perhaps these bigger trails had been made by goblins. We were on alert.

Fortunately, in a poorly executed manner of hiding the trail, we came upon what seemed to be a door-ish appearing effort of woven bramble across the trail. It was clearly an artifical construct, and drew us to that path like a moth to light. We knew now we were on the right trail.

Rigel went ahead to scout, and while she was gone we heard a tremendous roar followed by goblin voices. We were all quite grateful to see her return unharmed, and although she was able to elaborate upon the variety of forks and trails that lay ahead, she too had heard the noise but could not explain it.

Sabin, Rigel, and Olithar moved cautiously ahead and to the right to explore an area that Rigel had not. They bore witness to a barbaric sight. A small party of goblins dragged another towards a hole in the ground. The dragged goblin was bound, seemed terrified, and was struggling as best he could while bound. Without too much difficulty the party of goblins tossed him into the hole. After a brief pause, there was another roar, clearly emanating from the hole, but it sounded less … demanding. Could such an animal sound connote … satisfaction?

The trio quietly came forward after the guards left. This apparently set off some yapping from goblin dogs further to the right, but they went to the hole, peered down it, and suddenly it was all clear. The hole led to the bunyip lair. And the bound goblin had become … bunyip lunch. Or dinner. But why would they be feeding their own to this creature? What hold did the creature have over them that they would feel compelled to do so?

Cautiously following the trail the guards had taken, they found it led to an overlook of the rope bridge and, of course, the beaches below. Had we come this way, we would not have arrived in secret. West of this viewpoint came the sound of goblin voices and possibly the flicker of a fire. Returning to our party, the scouts found yet another lookout roughly to the south of the goblin voices.

Strategizing commenced. It is very easy to overthink goblin strategy, we reminded ourselves, so we did not need to come up with a clever or complex path. Simply put, we decided to lure as many guards as we could back to the hole with another bunyip-like noise, and pick them off one by one. We could control two forks and attack them from the rear after they passed, as well as the front. We may not draw all of the guard out, but when one doesn’t return, presumably more will come out to investigate. The dogs seemed penned up. We could take them out later, like shooting fish in a barrel.

Myself, Rigel, and Avia would be the rear attack. Olithar, Sedgwick, and Nolin would be the frontal attack. Sedgwick would use his mimicry skills to reproduce the sound, and then they would engage the guards that appeared. We would cut off their escape should they retreat. If there seemed to be some left, repeat.

What could go wrong?

Things went wrong right from the start. Despite Olithar’s insistence that he’d heard dogs, when the sound went up his party was attacked by a large CAT, and this wasn’t any old housepet. It jumped upon Olithar and the three of them battled to get it off before they could even engage the goblins. When finally the slew the beast, a single, great, goblin-like cry arose from further up the trail.

No sooner had they slain the creature than the goblins were upon them. One battled them while the second slipped into the passage towards the dogs.

Meanwhile, I was frustrated because our party was to provide rear attack and instead my companions had followed me as I cautiously advanced up the corridor. “Go back!” I hissed. “Go help the others!” And as Rigel and Avia took off towards the sound of battle, I discovered goblins are not without ears.

More goblins than one person should fight emerged from the firelit room, responding to the ruckus. I was able to surprise one, but needed to back up slowly to avoid being surrounded. I toyed with yelling for help, but that might also bring goblin reinforcements if my voice echoed across the nearby chasm. My best hope was that my companions would now hear the sound of THIS battle, and return. This was an excellent time for burning hands, but unfortunately it is somewhat trickier to execute during hand to hand combat and the spell fizzled. I took some cuts and glanced anxiously over my shoulder.

Nolin, meanwhile, had entered the dog area and found 4 there tethered. The goblin that had escaped was here and now with a little time to eyeball him, he appeared to be a magic user of some sort. Not one to be distracted by pretty robes, however, Nolin ripped into him. With little ceremony, and in under a minute, he was a brightly dressed, dead goblin.

Seeing that there were no visible goblins (Gogmurt, the magic user, had disappeared from their sight before their arrival), my companions turned around and came back to find me fighting several goblins. With Avia there, and eventually the rest of the party, we were able to put them down. My wounds were again minor, despite the early mismatches, and Olithar later did another mass heal which brought me back to full health.

With the goblins dead, and the dogs still tethered, we could take time to examine what we’d found. In particular, the magic user seemd to have some interesting belongings. There was:

some +1 leather armor [115] (goblin sized, alas)
a +1 cloak of resistance [116] (also hanky sized)
a potion of cure light wounds [117]
a potion of speak with animals [118]
two potions of tree shaping [119]
a wand of produce flame [31 charges][120]
a spear [121] that was not magical
a sling [122] that was not magical

Following the trail to its ending, we found another bramble barrier which, when removed, led us to the rope bridge.

We returned and killed the dogs, which were still tied up. Not very sporting, I know, but better safe than sporting.

In the firepit room, we found evidence of a sleeping area, but little else. It was still a little mysterious as to what this encampment was for, given that apparently goblin sacrifices were made here. Unless .. maybe that’s it. If the goblin with the magic items had been a priest then maybe the bunyip provided a convenient means of sacrifice. Come to think of it, the struggling goblin HAD been dressed differently …

Or was the shaman their captor, and .. but then the guards …

Hmm.

Watching secretly from one of the guard posts, we could see the guards on the other side seemed to be amusing themselves rather than actually guarding. They also seemed to be dressed differently than those on the bodies on this side. The bridge did not seem particularly well maintained.

Recalling just how intelligent goblins were (idiots) we concocted a cunning plan. Goblins hate dogs. Sedgwick created the illusion of a dog, had it run out onto the bridge, and bark several times. Sure enough, 4 goblins eventually came over to try to kill it. When they followed it into the woods, we killed them. Four less …

We also used the bodies of the goblins we killed to appear to be watchmen at the viewpoints. The towers started shooting at the (dead) goblins. We shot back. Eventually they started shooting flaming arrows and “killed” one of the dead goblins, so we had to replace it. This time, we shot flaming arrows back. There was now a full fledged flaming pincushion war going on. The flaming arrows actually set small portions of the wooden towers on the far side on fire, although there were in no immediate danger of burning to the ground. I raised the stakes by using the wand to actually send a fireball over.

Four burlier looking guards came over to “punish” us. Once they entered the forest .. four less.

Some felt this was going too slowly. Myself, I’m thinking they’re just stupid enough to keep it up until there are few enough left that we can simply storm the gate. But a growing number of our party thinks even now a raiding party might be sneaking up on us, having exited Thistlestop thru some secret passage. The consensus seems to be we should take the fight to them. Sigh. This is working, after all! Oh well. I don’t feel strongly enough about it to argue.

Toilday, 24 Rova

Time has not flowed linear for me these past few days. At times, it seems I’ve been places that I have yet to go to, while other times I completely lose track of where I’ve been. The side passage, the conversation with Ameiko, the return of the incriminating notes to her …

It might be that I’m still just stressing out about the claws. Nobody has said anything, so either they didn’t see it, or they think it unworthy of comment (unlikely) or they are blanking it from their mind as one would a traumatic experience.

But the stress must not be mine alone. Kyras, against our expectations and wishes, yesterday returned the notes we found to Ameiko, on the theory that they were private property. To me, and to several others, these seemed evidence of a crime, or several crimes, and it seemed complicit to quietly return those. I don’t think we were of a mind as to what to do with them, but returning them wasn’t foremost, I’m sure.

And Kyras refused to discuss it. He got so angry he left the group. And so we find ourselves one fewer.

But well before that — or was it after? again, time has lost its normal flow to me this last week or two — we discovered a most fascinating room. It was perfectly spherical, but objects were floating in it as if in a bowl of water. No that’s not right either, because objects in a bowl tend to sink or float, not choose a point in the middle. Something about this room allowed objects to simply float in the middle.

There was a ragged book[110], a scroll[112], a dead raven (complete with maggots)[109], a twisted iron wand[111], and a bottle[113]. The walls were plated in some sort of red metal, and black lightning bolts kept shooting randomly from plate to plate. There appeared to be discomforting words formed by the bolts, like WRATH, and DESTROY ENEMIES, KILL, CONQUER.

Unconcerned, Sabin tied a rope around himself and went for a float. He helped retrieve the items mentioned above, and seemed to suffer no (further) ill effects.

It was commented that this would make a very lucrative attraction, but it was pointed out that without knowing what created the magic here, we’d be playing with fire. I did a read magic and determined the scroll was a scroll of burning hands.

Sedgwick read over the book, and announced it seemed to be a prayer book for LaMashtu, the mother of all monsters. The little demon we killed was apparently a “quasit”. The book was full of all sorts of fun LaMashtu facts, like an altar dedicated to LaMashtu appears to have dirty water oozing from it. Hey, we’ve seen one of those.

When we returned, I brought the garrison commander up to date on almost everything. He agreed to place a guard at the goblin barracks in case anything were to try to come into the city that way.

But as a party, we realized, we were all running a bit short of gold. And since the city was unlikely to pay us for our work to date, we felt that the items we’d found, if they had any value, should belong to us. And so it came to pass that we tried to sell the giant statue of the stern angry mistress that we’d found. Writing on the bottom identified it as “Elaznist”. Sedgwick thought that might be one of the ancient rune lords.

So we hauled it away — no easy task — and decided as a group to try to sell it. To someone, for some proper amount of money.

With time on our hands, we were able to inspect the items we’d retrieved a bit more. The wand, as I saw it, was a wand of shocking grasp with 28 charges. I am carrying it currently.

That evening, Kyras and Nolin and I were at the inn when there was a ruckus. A woman ran in claiming her husband had been attacked by a goblin. Avia, Sabin, and Olithar had remained at the glassworks factory, so we sent word to meet us at this woman’s house and we rushed to help.

And it really was a goblin. And her husband, I’m afraid, really was dead. And unfortunately (but we didn’t tell her) being used as goblin food. It didn’t take too much effort for three people to hunt it and kill it, but the poor husband didn’t have the advantage of superiority in numbers, nor a decent weapon.

I arranged for some pie for the kids, and a room for the family and we cleaned up the scene a bit so the woman wouldn’t have to. Father Zanthus will take care of the arrangements for a service.

Wealday, 25 Rova

Olithar got creative and seems to have made money for us all. Today he has sold the right to visit the things we found in the tunnel (altar, cells, etc.) — which we refer to as “the historical area” — for 1000gp, and arranged to sell the statue on consignment. It may go for again as much if all goes well.

But with cash in hand, all of us who needed additional training was able to afford same.

Avia, Sabin, Rigel, Nolin, and myself needed 100gp for our “continuing education credits.”

Sedgwick needed 150gp, and Kyras needed 200 gp. Of our 1000gp we’d received, this left 150gp. We purchased 2 scrolls of identify and 2 scrolls of cure light wounds for 25gp and 50gp, respectively, leaving 75gp in the party’s coffers.

And it was now, on Wealday, Lamashan 9, I think, that Kyras tried to thwart the will of the group. While Avia and Olithar were adamant that he’d done wrong, I was just upset because we hadn’t had a chance to decide as a group. It might have been the case that we’d make the same decision, but whether we did or not it was not supposed to be a personal decision but a shared one.

Ah well. He seems quite the independent spirit .. perhas our paths will cross again.

Oathday, Lamashan 10

In reading through Tsuto’s journal, there was mention of a sacrifice on “the Thistlestop altar” so we think perhaps our next clue will be found there. We do not expect the Thistlestop goblins to throw a party in honor of our arrival, so we are proceeding cautiously. I am carrying one of the scrolls of CLW as I’m one of the few that has a decent chance of using it if needed.

Despite our caution, it seems I was wrong. The goblins have thrown us a party. You could say they’ve invited us to dinner. I suppose it’s hard to be stealthy to a goblin in its home turf.

Battle ensued .. more details the next time I sit down.

Moonday, Rova 23

Rigel carefully (dare I say skillfully?) broke a window into the glassworks, let herself in, and opened the door from the inside for the rest of us.

A hasty inspection of the immediate area led us to believe that our presence was undetected, and that the goblins were revelling behind a set of double doors ahead of us. Olithar proceeded to bless the party while Rigel laid down some caltrops at an alternate door in case they tried to make a break. It seems that Rigel also had a convenient thunder egg (where does she get those marvelous toys?) so Nolin tossed it in to thunderous success before we entered.

We found 13 goblins inside, in various states of awareness. The thunder egg had left some of them stunned and others just surprised. All of them, however, foolishly decided to fight.

Olithar was embarrassed to find his bless spell had already worn off; apparently it has a pretty short duration. But Avia went in swinging, and I was flinging magic missiles, and even some of the others got involved making goblin mincemeat. Olithar did some flaming hands that singed quite a few before simply beating at them like the rest of us.

Goblins are a bit like bees, I think. One or two might sting you and it’s annoying but it won’t kill you. You’ll still squish them. Get a dozen or two to gang up on you, though, and without some help, you might find yourself incapacitated. I’d never fought goblins before arriving at this town, but I find that besting them doesn’t fill one with a feeling of accomplishment. If anything, it just makes one want to take a bath.

Anyway, eventually all the goblins were dispatched, although a few people did take some nasty cuts. It was clear that the goblins had been here some time, as there were … parts … of the employees laying about the room. It appears the goblins may have been not just desecrating their bodies but also, well, feeding upon them.

I’m not a religous man but that just seemed sacriligious. And it made me feel .. vengeful. For a moment, I might have felt what a paladin feels — a sense that a greater power demands that action be taken and rights be wronged. That there are certain things and actions that need no explanation or justification to require a visceral reaction. That it’s not just right; it’s a moral imperative.

For a moment, anyway. Don’t worry Dad; I won’t be running off to a church anytime soon.

However, my eyes soon fell upon a most unusual sight. There was an older man encased in a half-inch thick tomb of colored glass. The goblins had amused themselves by pouring molten glass over his lifeless body. (I could tell it was lifeless when it was glassed over because the expression on his face did not at all resemble the expression one might make upon suddenly being made the victim of third degree burns over one’s entire body.)

This, we suspected, was the elder Kaijitsu. But there was no sign of Ameiko (I’ve been calling her Meko because nobody was pronouncing her name clearly until now!) nor her brother, who was most likely perpetrator, not victim. While there was much shattered glass around there was little else. Rigel quickly went over the goblins’ bodies looking for goodies but hey, c’mon. These were goblins.

Olithar was at least as disgusted as me by this abuse of corpse, and smashed the glass to remove it from the elder man’s body. It appeared he was stabbed and beaten and that’s probably what killed him. He possessed an elaborate scabbard for what we presume was an ornate dagger. The symbol on the scabbard was that of the Kaijitsu family. Sedgwick confirmed that this was the patriarch of the family.

Having used spells most of the time I myself wasn’t at the front line this time, so I was uninjured. So it was that Rigel, Sedgwick and I set off to explore one portion of the building while Nolin, Avia, Kyras, Sabin, and Olithar explored another.

They eventually found an office with an open and empty safe. We eventually found two slumbering goblins. They made a note to come back with Rigel as she’s particularly skilled at finding things. We attempted to slit the goblins’ throats but there was so much broken junk in the room we awoke them. Not before they were within range of our weapons, though. One of the bastards had time to nick me but the flow was quickly staunched. And they were quickly adding to the debris on the floor.

Eventually our explorations met again. They seemed a bit surprised that I, Rigel, and Sedgwick killed two more goblins. I guess we don’t look very lethal.

Rigel returned to the office with the others, and did in fact unlock a locked drawer that Avia had found. Unfortunately, she forgot to see if it had any traps and she found a poisoned needle the hard way. But the drawer contained a small box, also locked. More carefully this time, she forced the lock on this as well, bypassing yet another trap. Documents inside seemed to be written in the unusual script of the Kaijitsu family. Sedgwick stared at them for a bit, used a bit of a spell and a bit of knowledge, I guess, and looked a little pale. The documents apparently outlined some shady deals with the Scarnetti family that neither family would really want made public. Assassins. Money laundering. It would appear that while being much more subtle about it than the Scarnettis, the Kaijitsu family wasn’t exactly squeaky clean either.

This left the only unexplored area to be downstairs. Inexplicably, there was a lit torch in the wall down there, which suggested somebody had been there recently … or was still there. The goblins would not have had need of such niceties. It made us all a little more wary.

We found some items in the hallway and a few rooms. Barrels and boxes appeared to simply hold ingredients for glass. One room held finished product suitable for sale.

But another room … another room was locked. Rigel did her thing with locks and opened it. It was another storeroom, but there was a woman tied and apparently unconscious on the floor. Rigel gave her a potion of healing and she —

What? She had a potion of healing? What else is she holding out on with us?

Anyway, the healing brought Ameiko around, and we got to hear the story we’d suspected we would. Tsuto, her brother, had enlisted the aid of the goblins to take over the factory. They attacked her, and she presumes her father, as Tsuto continues to dishonor their family. We glanced uneasily at each other and decided perhaps this wasn’t the best time to tell her about her glassy eyed father.

Tsuto hates this town and wants to see it burn. He also has been hanging out with Nualia! who still lives and apparently is making some dark deal with dark gods. That might explain the raiding of Tobyn’s tomb.

While some of us debriefed and revived Ameiko, others were still exploring. And lo and behold, who did we find but Tsuto, passed out in a drunken stupor behind a desk in another room. Nolin held a sword to Tsuto and threatened him, but Tsuto is unimpressed and struggles. Nolin smacked him with the flat of his blade, knocked Tsuto to his butt and advised him to stop struggling.

Unfortunately, not knowing of the conversation we were having with Ameiko who was describing her complete disgust and hatred of her brother, the other thought it might be useful to reunite brother and sister. In a flash, Ameiko, who was being supported but not restrained, snatched a shortsword from one of our party and advanced on Tsuto. With some effort, we were able to restrain Ameiko. I, Kyras, and Nolin swore to her on our honor that Tsuto would die at our hands as soon as we found him no longer useful. Tsuto is unimpressed.

Sabin, Olithar, and Kyras drag Tsuto to one of the storerooms and try to make him believe they were sent by Nualia to clean up his mess, and that she intends to make an example of him. He does not believe this at all, and mocks them. Apparently they smacked him around to hear them tell it, but he did not change his mind. He made some comment about his going to be with her that very night.

Meanwhile, Ameiko was expressing concern for her father and wanted to go upstairs to check on him. We finally had to tell her of his condition and her eyes narrowed as she said, “Had you told me that earlier I would not have let him live.”

“I know,” I replied. “But you do have our word of honor that he will die when his usefulness is at an end.”

Unsuccessful at fooling him, Sabin, Olithar, and Kyras brought him back after a while and acknowledged his usefulness was at an end. We gave Ameiko the option of executing him herself. She accepted. He was brought back to consciousness, and then dispatched. As the death blow fell, he said something in their family language. Ameiko says he said that death didn’t matter, since Nualia would just revive him.

All that meant is that we’d feed his corpse into the flames of the kiln upstairs. As reconstituted, undead ashes, he could make people cough occasionally but that’s all.

The story to the outside, we all agreed, was that goblins had broken in and killed her father and kidnapped Ameiko.

In the storeroom where we’d found Tsuto, we’d found a number of items, including a potion in a vial (90), a short bow (91), a ring (92), thieves tools (93), a pretty flute (94), silver earrings (95), a journal (96), six pouches filled with glittery powder (97), eight pouches filled with a different glittery powder (98), and 10 platinum pieces.

The powders were claimed by Ameiko as belonging to the family — they were gold and/or silver powders used in the glass making (but very expensive). Nolin claimed the short bow, which apparently required great strength to operate.

We and Ameiko then inspected the journal, which also was inscribed in Kaijitsu symbols. It showed beyond a doubt that he was behind the goblin attack, because the method eventually used was described there and circled. There were many drawing of Nualia, which became increasingly grotesque as she apparently was trying to “remove the taint of the church” from herself. The last drawing seemed to show her as some sort of demon.

Based on the journal and Tsuto’s last words, attack tonight seemed likely. Ameiko left to mobilize some “friends” to help defend the city. I myself went to the garrison and told them what we knew, deftly leaving out the parts we didn’t wish to make public. Some went to Zantus for both healing and to inform him of the imminent danger as well.

Having prepared the town as best we could, we took on the tunnels here in the basement, as it was the most likely manner to bring goblins or worse into the middle of the city.

The tunnels smelled of goblin, even to my untrained nose. This made it obvious when we took the “wrong” branch, but we weren’t expecting branches either. We decided to follow the branch for a while. Eventually we came across some misshapen creature with giant claws that had a vaguely human … no, make that simply bipedal look about it. It had a vicious attack, but fortunately as a group we were able to deal with it.

At this point, our magic users were pretty depleted on their spells, including me. We’d had no chance to ‘recharge’ before having to dive into the tunnels. The group wanted to eradicate the raid before it came to us rather than simply wait in the basement for it to arrive.

After killing this creature, we found a passage that seemed to lead to the basement (perhaps) of another building. We also found a room with a statue of a beautiful woman but with an angry expression on her face. Left hand holds an ivory book, and the right hand holds an actual ranseur. No magic was found in the room, but it was unsettling. Judging roughly from the direction we’d taken off in we may have gone under the ocean and come up on an island, or we might be underneath one of the buildings built near the sea.

We decided to defer exploring this section further, as we were clearly away from the goblin threat and that, after all, was our primary effort.

We went back to the main goblin trail and continued.

After a time, we seemed to reach a deadend, but Olithar searched more carefully and found a secret door. It led to a chamber, which was obviously very near the sea, that appeared to be a goblin barracks. No goblins, though.

At this point, a little concerned, we returned to the glassworks factory to see if goblins had already gone past us and were running amuck. No goblins here either.

We returned and went down another path that led to what is best described as a shrine room. There was a black marble altar filled with filthy water. The room looked clean, but the alter emanated evil. Double doors led to another room, and I cracked the door a bit to find a strong blue light inside. There was no time, with my quick, imperceptible glance to learn more about the room beyond. But Avia detected evil in it …

We decided to take it on.

It appeared to be an immense, underground cathedral. There was a great glowing blue pool with an inner ring of spikes upon which sat (apparently) human skulls. Up on a 3′-5′ platform at the far end of the room was another pool, flush with the floor, bubbling furiously. And of course, this scene wouldn’t be complete without an angry demon.

But a tiny demon. Seriously, this was smaller than a goblin. But when it flew, we got worried. When it slit its own wrist, we got worried. And when the drops of blood hit the blue pool and started turning into creatures, we worried some more. On the plus side, the blue glow dimmed somewhat when it did that, and that seemed to worry it. Hurray.

I had no more spells. I tried hitting it with my sling but I may as well have been trying to kill a fly with a battle axe. It was quick, and small and flying. Olithar had a good idea and created water above its head at one point. Doused, it fell to the ground. Aha! And then turned invisible. Uh. Meanwhile the monsters were climbing out of the pool and that was causing some problems for other members of our party.

As a last resort, it seemed it might be time to reveal my secret. My dagger is pitiful, and my quarterstaff is strong but I’m slow to hit with it. Many in the party were bleeding from both the creatures and the demon.

I grew my claws. I don’t know how many in the party may have seen it, but my claws are both fast and vicious so I thought it would give me the best chance at damaging the demon. Quite shortly thereafter, however, Avia was able to dispatch it with help from her god and a blow from her sword.

I quickly returned my hands to normal but I’m sure Avia, at least, saw the transformation. We’ll see what kind of reaction it gets. Father warned me that the more people who saw it, the less likely they might be to want to associate with me, and he spoke from experience. It’s a trait that’s been in our family for several generations. Sigh. I’d hoped to talk to folks before just doing it.

Sunday, Rova 22

The day began slowly, compared to our recent adventures. A good night’s sleep, an adequate breakfast, and finally, a meeting with the Sheriff. Although I’d briefly met the Sheriff yesterday on what I’m sure the locals will come to call “the most recent unpleasantness”, Sedgwick is local and could make a more personal introduction.

The Sheriff seemed impressed with our party’s bravery, and he was about to send me to the head of the garrison to help out with the guard when he stopped a moment and had a different idea. The consecration of the cathedral had never really completed, and Father Zantus really wanted to see that completed. So at noon there was going to be a quiet, private ceremony to complete that. And he thought it prudent if there were a little extra guard around. I accepted his charge.

We hurried over to the cathedral and got there in time to find Kyras strongly advocating holding the ceremony early, say at 11 instead of noon. His theory was that there was evidence that there was some sort of help from inside the city for the goblin raid, and so we might reasonably expect some sort of disruption again … unless we changed the time on short notice. By noon, the ceremony would be completed and couldn’t be interrupted again.

I myself thought this was a bit paranoid, but I had no particular objection to it. In the end, the group did that. Avia went to get the mayor, who happened to be meeting with the sheriff, and they both came early to witness it. There were 10-15 extra guards casually walking around in case of trouble … but no trouble was forthcoming.

While doing this little bit of guard duty, our good friend (?) Aldron spied me on his way to the inn and reiterated his insistence that we go boar hunting. I was politely deferential, which he loved, and he absolutely insisted we needed to have dinner together to further discuss hunting. The man may actually be a good hunter — some reports do say he’s better than average — but he clearly has more time on his hands than, well, most people. More resources too, to hear it.

After the ceremony, the sheriff quietly asked much of our group to attend a meeting in his office at 3pm that afternoon. He had some more information he wanted to share with us.

We used the time until 3 to try to continue tracking the goblin trail out the north gate. It led to the Tickwood, but that’s about all we could learn.

The meeting at the Sheriff’s office was something of a surprise. We were introduced to “an unofficial member of the Sandpoint town guard”: Shalelu. Shalelu is an elf who spends much of her time trying to keep the goblins in check. Normally this is a busy but not difficult task, as the 5 goblins tribes that live within a reasonable distance from the city spend as much time fighting among themselves as bothering the city. It was noteworthy, though, that this particular attack apparently was conducted by members of all five goblin tribes — that is, they were cooperating to some common goal.

This had Shalelu concerned. A farm not too far from the city was attacked and burned this morning, but it wasn’t clear if that was part of this concerted effort or simply ordinary goblin misdeeds. Shalelu spent a little time describing the five tribes. Although they look the same to most, she said a sharp observer would be able to tell them apart by their dress.

She agreed to return with us to the wood and use her tracking skill to try to learn more about their raid. We discovered that about 3/4 mile from the road, half the goblins headed north back to the road and half went back to the Devil’s Platter, possibly just going home. As we returned to the road, Shalelu said she was starting to lose the trail. Olithar, Kyras, Sabien, Rigel, and Avia decided to spend the night in the woods; I, Sedgwick and Nolin decided to return to the city.

Sedgwick and I availed ourselves of Aldron’s splendid layout and got a free dinner. We made excellent conversation with him without promising a thing. Later I returned to the Rusty Dragon and apologized to Nyla and reset our date for Toilday evening. She was accepting, seeing as how the goblins were the reason our first one fell through, but she was also preoccupied because her boss, Meko, was not at work that day which made things more hectic.

Moonday, Rova 23

I rose early and met the rest of the group in the woods at first light. Working with Shalelu we were only able to additionally determine that it appeared the coffin and perhaps some goblins boarded a cart or carriage on the road. Direction and purpose unknown. Shalelu needed to leave, so we headed back to town.

Meanwhile, while we were doing that, we learned later that Kyras and Sabien (who were trying to get more information in town rather than in the woods) were beset upon by an elderly halfling — Bethann. Meko has apparently been missing since yesterday morning. Against her better judgment she entered Meko’s room and found a note there. The sum of it was that her brother Tsuto wanted to meet Meko to discuss “their evil father”. She was to go to the glassworks shop, “knock twice, then three, then once.”

It was about this time that our two parties reunited, and so it was that we headed over to the glassworks shop en masse. The doors were locked (it’s about 5pm, so that’s a little early) but there is smoke coming from the chimney. Rigel climbed to the roof and after looking down a couple of the skylights, returned to say that inside, she saw lots of goblins all over. Broken glass all over too.

Sedgwick went off to get the town guard (just a few buildings away). We prepared to enter the building and either kill goblins, or save Meko, or both.

Starday, Arodus 17

I must commit myself greater to the task of noting my travels. While I will admit that naught of great import has happened so far, one can never tell what will be significant and what will not without some sort of clairvoyance.

I have come from Korvosa, following the coast north to Palin’s Cove before going overland to skirt the Fenwall Mountains. I anticipate reaching Melfesh within a day or two. Already I miss the amenities I had grown accustomed to in Korvosa, but as Father pointed out more than once, adventures don’t come and sit in your lap.

Well, actually, that DID almost happen today at a pub, and while she WAS quite attractive, the jealous boyfriend that attacked me made her less so. It is unfortunate that he required healing, but everyone there agreed I was provoked and was simply defending myself. Incidents like that aside, it’s been rather uneventful. I am able to earn the odd coin here or there assisting with a hunt or even being a bit of a mercenary, helping to extend a city guard for a few days. In general, people do seem won over by my demeanor and folks here seem to be generous and trusting. I’ve gotten favorable rates of trade with merchants and favorable prices with storekeeps. Father says our general good nature and demeanor runs in the family, and he found it much the same when he was adventuring.

It sounds so noble and exciting — adventuring! — but really, all it is is trying to make a living by getting paid for what you do best. Apparently it’s something of a rite of passage in our family, but I must admit I find the idea enticing of its own. My magicks are pretty weak yet so I’ve become adept with some more ordinary weapons, but Father said that getting out in the world and exercising his mind seems to have made it stronger. The more experiences he had, the better he was able to control the magic and the more powerful it became.

The magic still being weak in me, I’ve decided I will use it sparingly. There’s no telling how helpful it might be, and seeing me wield it might frighten people badly. Not everone is comfortable around magic (although I don’t see how that differs from priests and their magic but everybody thinks that’s perfectly normal.)

Today I am in Palin’s Cove. I decided it might make for more adventure (and save money) to take it on foot rather than take passage on one of the many ships available. I gained some travelling companions on two or three nights, but we shared bread and little else. I got the sense that I was definitely taking the road less travelled.

But now that I’m here, I must say the history is palpable. Behind the city walls huge weapons like catapults and ballistae bristle, and the successful battles against the marauding Shoanti offer testimony to their workmanship. Of course, that was quite a while ago, but this former military outpost is proud of its history and the shops, inns, and pubs all play on the theme. (“Soldier’s Surplus”, “Barracks-on-the-Rise”, and “The General’s Brew” are examples of same.) But these days, Palin’s Cove is a bustling industrial area. Is it any surprise that their chief export is weapons?

Anyway, tomorrow I strike out for Melfesh, after which I’ll go west and follow the shores of Lake Syrantula. There are legends of strange animals living in the Mushfens, and perhaps I can get paid handsomely for the pelt of one. If all else fails, I could make my way full west to Magnimar (if I stay to the river) or Sandpoint (were I to leave the river and go overland.)

Oathday, Arodus 22

Hmm, yes, Melfesh. It seems I’d overestimated its charm. While the companions I met on foot to Palin’s Cove were sullen and anti-social, those I’ve met on the way to Melfesh varied from mad to dangerous. I only had to wield my quarterstaff threateningly once, and apparently one solid strike was sufficient to discourage further attack. I wonder if I chanced upon my journey during a bad time, or if this is typical?

One man seemed harmless enough, but babbled on about gold and monsters and his brother who was still in the mine, but he was going to bring help, and did I have any gold to spare for his brother, who was injured and needed healing? It’s possible, I suppose, that he really did have a brother, and they might even have a claim to a mine, but the ‘monsters’ he described clearly came out of some alcohol enhanced nightmare. He traveled with me for several hours, and then, while I was intent upon scouting the coming path, he vanished. (Maybe one of his monsters ate him.)

Oathday (more)

Well, okay, perhaps I was a little harsh. Chatting up some new friends in Melfesh, I learned that the Fenwall Mountains, now solidly to my west and south, does have its fair share of prospectors, claim jumpers, and, yes, unusual creatures. I’m now not so sure I’m ready to go after a pelt of anything living in Fenwall … at least, not yet. However, I also learned of a big town party in Sandpoint coming soon. It’s a little over a full month out, but Sandpoint, according to my father, had some happenings several years ago that sound .. mysterious. Apparently some local went insane and started killing people, many people, and either he or the townspeople (the stories vary) burned down the local church/ the shipyards/half the town (the stories vary) during their attempt to capture/rehabilitate/kill him (the stories vary). The Sandpoint businessman’s guild euphemistically refers to it as “the late unpleasantness”, I’m told. It certainly sounds like it was.

I’m told the celebration is to honor the consecration of the new church. But perhaps more pertinent to my situation right now is that there will be free food at the celebration, and with the expected influx of visitors, there might be a little mercenary work to be had helping out the town guard. While I’m in no danger right now of running out of money (I’ve been pretty frugal) I wouldn’t mind feeling a little more comfortable on that side of things and free food and a few coins might well be just what the shaman ordered.

I admit, this isn’t exactly what I had planned when I left home, but I guess that father didn’t tell us all the boring parts of the stories. Or I didn’t hear them. “And then after earning four coppers per day for four moons, son, and paying for my room and board, I had almost 5 gold pieces to my name.” “What happened then, dad?” “Why, then I killed a black dragon of course, son.”

Yeah, don’t remember that so well.

Tomorrow I start west towards Sandpoint, via Biston, Ilsurian, Whistledown, and Wartle. I think it prudent to take the northern shore if I’m to walk (which would surely save some money.)

[7] Starday, Arodus 24

Made it to Biston. I can see the Fenwalls quite clearly now across the lake and I’m increasingly sure I made the right decision. I do wish I could have afforded passage on the boats that run regularly along the length of the lake, but I must budget my money frugally as I don’t know how long it will be before I can earn more than a few coppers a day. On the other hand, I’m learning more of the land and the area through the people I meet than I would on a 2-day boat trip.

I’m allowing myself the luxury of indoor sleeping quarters at each city I reach, but in between I am exposed to the elements. The two nights out of Melfesh have been as different as night and … uh, well, bad analogy. They’ve been different. One was warm and comfortable, needing a fire only for companionship. The second … well, I’m glad the second was after reaching Biston, for tonight as I write by flickering light in the pub I can hear the wind blowing and the rain pelting the roof. Although my accomodations are frugal, they are still dry and I give thanks for that. I must be doing something right to time my outdoor adventures so.

Moonday, Arodus 26

Ilsurian achieved! And I find my fortitude is increasing! I used to tire after 13 or 14 miles but I find now that my body is capable of nearly 20 miles per day if I push it. Thus it is that even though I think Ilsurian is a bit farther from Biston than Biston is from Melfesh, it took no more time.

It does not, however, leave me any less tired. And this time, I did get to sleep under a tree on a rainy night, much to my discomfort. I’m very much looking forward to a chance to dry out and sleep well tonight.

Moonday (more)

Alas, being indoors does not make one any more safe against thieves. One tried to cut my purse tonight while I slept.

It is unfortunate for him that I sleep with my dagger nearby. It is fortunate for him, however, that I sleep lightly and thus was not surprised or my uncontrolled reaction may have caused him more harm than he actually received. As it is, I suspect he will have a scar for life.

In his purse, I found the equivalent of 23 gold pieces mostly in gold and silver, likely stolen from other unfortunate victims. I located the proprietor and we decided there was no need to involve the authorities.

After a discussion, he admitted there had been a problem at both his and his main competitor’s inn and pub of late, but that this was the first time sleeping quarters had been violated. He thought there might be other victims from tonight’s play, but he wouldn’t know until morning. So I entrusted the 23 gp to him and told him to reimburse any victims that came to him in the next day or two. In return, he would give me any unclaimed gold. This he agreed to.

The thief was thrown bleeding to the street. No doubt he will have stories to tell.

In addition, to help root out the problem further, the innkeeper and his competitor (actually, brother-in-law, as it turned out) will speak in the morning.

Toilday, Arodus 27

I will be staying in Ilsurian a bit longer. The two innkeepers would like me to help “discourage” the thieves that have been plaguing their inns and pubs. They think about a week or so should do it. I’ll be paid a gold piece a day, plus free room and board, for the duration. There will be no bonus based on the number of thieves I catch since they want to discourage false accusations and incidents. But my behavior during my incident convinced them I could be trusted with this limited responsibility.

Oathday, Arodus 29

Today Beltan (the innkeeper) today gave me 15 gold pieces that he says was unclaimed. Whether he is telling the truth or not and kept some for himself is really of little matter. I stand to regain 22 pieces of gold after this is said and done.

Toilday, Rova 3

Today ends my service in Ilsurian. I captured 4 different thieves, and one slow learner twice. When I recognized him, his eyes got big as he saw the recognition and they stayed that way until he died. Then I got the innkeeper. I told him he appeared weakened from his previous encounter and died before I could get help. Beltan looked at me suspiciously, but I shrugged my shoulders and said, “He should have waited to heal from his first encounter with me.” Beltan peered at him closely and also recognized him then. That one we had to get the authorities for. A dead body is hard to hide. Or at least, hide blamelessly.

Beltan gave me an additional 5 gp as I left today, and wished me well. I told him our agreement was there would be no additional bonuses, and he quickly added it was not a bonus. It was an expression of gratitude above and beyond the agreement.

Father gave me 90gp. I spent more than 10gp on equipment before even leaving town, and had spent 15gp more in just 10 days’ travel. At that rate, I feared I would arrive in Sandpoint broke, but this brought me back to a respectable 92gp. I’m beginning to like this life of the free. It’s off to Whistledown now .. probably 4 days journey. Although, you know what? I just got paid. And it only costs 2gp to go by coach cab. I’m going to splurge.

Toilday (more)

And so, another lesson learned. Nobody likes to lose. It appears the thieves in Ilsurian had marked me. Thank the fates that I had chosen a carriage, as they would have had a better jump on me were I travelling on foot. As it was, when three of them beset us, the driver certainly did his part to dodge them, but the horse broke loose and ran off. I decided that conventional weaponry was no longer useful. I caused one to pause when a magic missile struck him in his chest. That did not kill him, but his surprised pause and the driver’s thrown dagger did. I flashed a look of appreciation at the same time that he was giving me an eye that suggested I was more than I seemed. The remaining two circled warily, trying to approach from opposite directions but two on two is a much fairer fight. Without surprise on their side, thieves are much less dangerous and my quarterstaff was able to beat him before his short sword was able to slice me.

A second magic missile helped dispatch the third fellow who’d marked the driver a bit. I applied some first aid, again surprising the driver. “For a man of little means,” he commented, “you seem to command many skills.”

“I choose to keep a low profile,” I said. “But I will pay you for your unexpected service.” And as I reached for my belt I discovered that their attack had not been entirely unsuccessful. One of them had managed to cut my purse. Fortunately, I’d put the bulk of my wealth in my backpack, so they only got 20gp. Only!

We located the horse a half mile away, led him back and resumed our journey.

Wealday, Rova 4

We’ve reached Whistledown and I paid the driver an extra 2gp and a night’s lodging to rest well before he took his coach back. Add in my own night’s costs, and I’m down to … bah! 64gp. In the future, I shall keep even less in my purse. I’ll pat myself on the back for not putting all my gold in one basket, as it were, but a hard lesson learned.

This town is named for the distinctive wooden charms that hang from house eaves to turn the evening wind off the lake into haunting melodies. Here, Lake Syrantula becomes the Yondabakari once more. Although the town is home to almost as many humans as gnomes, Whistledown is generally regarded as the primary gnome settlement in Varisia, and most of the quaint white-walled cottages are sized accordingly. Fortunately, the inns have a better variation on room and bed size and I was able to locate suitable accomodations.

Oathday, Rova 5

It seems in talking to the locals that the only city of interest between here and the coast is Wartle, and even that city is built on stilts, because the Mushfens lies on the south side of the river and its influence extends a little ways into the north side. In other words, travel by foot is very difficult and not advised.

Passage on a boat, for a journey this long, however, will run me about 32gp. I’m hoping there’s some work I can do at the other end.

Starday, Rova 7

We put in at Wartle, and it’s all the folks in Whistledown told me it was. And more. Or less, depending on your viewpoint. It’s little more than a ramshackle trading post full of swampers and fur traders. Wartle perches on stilts above the muck of the Mushfens, and but for dredging that must have been necessary for the shipping the muck is only about two and a half feet below the surface of the water.

The Mushfens, I’m told, are rich in magical reagents to those who know what to look for. I myself have never needed components for my spells, but apparently wizards from Magnimar and Galduria do maintain a presence here, training ordinary men and women to recover herbs from the swamp. While the arcanists pay extraordinarily well, the many monsters of the Mushfens make this one of the most dangerous professions in Varisia. I saw at least one mangled body return which bore this fact most graphically.

I’m very glad I took the boat. Very glad. I wouldn’t want to be on foot out there. If I find myself in desperate need of money I may return here for there is money to be had, but hopefully that will not be necessary. The stench and the bugs and, well, the danger would probably wear on me quickly.

Wealday, Rova 11

Ah, we’ve reached Magnimar. I’d heard many stories that its grandeur was overrated. I must say I agree. They’ve done well with the place, but these former Korvosans had so little to work with you can’t hold it against them.

They decided to form a democratic metropolis, and call themselves the City of Monuments. It is true I see a great deal of art around, but how many statues does one city need?

But it is sizable. And that means I may be able to hire on for a bit of gold with the local constabulary.

Toilday, Rova 17

“Pub security” might be the best title I could think of for my current career. “Bouncer” is a less civilized term. The constabulary here really doesn’t have a need for any extra hands. Bah! I should have known better than to try to make a living in Magnimar! In a little over two weeks I’ve managed to earn back just 8gp in wages, once you deduct food and a place to stay. I’m up to 40gp.

I’m heading north tomorrow. I’ve used up all the time I can here if I’m to make the celebration in Sandpoint. But I’ll have to walk it; I can’t afford a boat.

Wealday, Rova 18

Sleeping on the coast is so much nicer than inland, I must say. One problem I’d not encounted inland, though, is it’s much more likely to be foggy out here. That doesn’t bother me all that much, as fog at night is warming, and during the day, well, no trouble to me.

But the fates have smiled upon me again. It seems a rich businessman is shipping goods from Magnimar to Sandpoint, and is fearful that the fog may hide bandits or hooligans waiting to attack him. He is pleased to have the extra help along and will pay handsomely. Especially when I mentioned I could create light as needed, which will allow him to travel at night (although, afford me little sleep, I suspect.)

Oathday, Rova 19

I’m not sure if it’s really Oathday or not. I guess it is very early on Toilday. We traveled all night and arrived at Sandpoint while it was still dark. The businessman paid me 20gp, which helps greatly; plus, I think the celebration is in three days so I might still be able to get some guard work.

Oathday (more)

I’m very tired but I hate to waste a day. I checked with the guard and they’re convinced they’re full up. Curses. Likely no money to be made here. I’d be worse off without that caravan job though. Maybe that’s the way to go. I’ll look into that more after the celebration.

Fireday, Rova 20

Staying at the Rusty Dragon. It’s good, which means expensive, but I really really need the rest. I might move to a less expensive room, or inn, if feel the need but right now this seems to be just what the healer ordered. The dedication is tomorrow. I’ll check out the rest of the town later this afternoon.

Fireday (more)

A very pleasant server at the Dragon caught my eye and I’ve offered to accompany her to the Sandpoint Theatre.

There was a bard there tonight who seemed friendly .. Sedgwick, I believe. I may chat him up beyond a casual ‘hi’ — bards often know things others fear to tell.

There’s a sign at the bar, that says “discount room for anyone who tells an exciting adventure story.” Perhaps I’ll snag that discount tomorrow night.

Starday, Rova 21

First day of autumn today. Air is a bit brisk in crisp, like it knows.

As the ceremony began, the mayor talked about “putting our history behind us.” I remembered that this place of worship had been burned down in the “late unpleasantness” and got the reference. She was an interesting enough speaker, I suppose, but said little I didn’t already know about the town and its history.

Then the sheriff spoke about the need to keep the peace, and there’d be a bonfire in the evening, please be safe, etc. There was a moment of silence to honor those who had perished earlier. A very uninspiring speaker.

Then Cyrdakk Drokkus, who apparently was the lead actor at the theatre that Nyla and I were going to go to this evening got up and spent an eloquent amount of time saying nothing, except to advertise his play.

Finally Father Zantus thanked everyone, and announced that now we’d be releasing the swallowtails. Enjoy the food! See you in a half hour!

I circulated among the crowd, trying to pick up bits of conversation. The mayor, in a brief conversation with me, revealed that the fire may have actually been set by one of the children that Father Tobyn had taken in, Noalyn. But it’s only a rumor, not to be repeated.

I saw Sedgwick, and struck up a conversation with him. He seemed happy to see me, and mentioned a hunting party was getting together on the theory that the town would be devoid of food after the celebration. I figured I’d join on the theory that some cash is better than no cash.

And the celebration was indeed going strong. And the food was good. And the drink was flowing.

But at sunset, things changed.

As the Consecration began, a woman screamed. And another. And then a wagon burst into flames. And goblins — dozens, it seemed — started spreading over the area. They went for pets and children, mostly, although they were surely capable of ganging up on a full size adult too.

Cursing, I leapt into action. Around me, others did the same. I later learned these would-be members of the hunting party were named Avia (a paladin), Olithar (a priest), Kyras (a hunter), Sabien (a half orc, poor fellow), Nolin (a fighter), Rigel (an archer), and Sedgwick, of course.

The guards were doing their part but there was just too many. Our party killed at least 9 before I fell unconscious. When I awoke, it seems the priest had just healed me. At that moment we heard another scream from the north, and ran there to discover some sort of goblin dog being ridden by a goblin than the rest of the goblins.

We killed him, his dog, and his six minions feeding on a dead dog. The human standing there, one Aldron Foxglove, seemed quite pleased at the rescue and promised to reward us but we urged him to move inside.

We returned to find a fair amount of the town on fire, but Olithar, it turns out, could produce water at will and singlehanded helped put out several fires. The bucket lines that the townspeople formed up took care of the rest, and damage was kept to a minimum.

Despite our being at the north end of the town, it seems we didn’t get the worst of it. It appeared that the main force of goblins started attacking in the southern part of the town. Oddly, there were no indications that they had used any of the bridges to gain access to Sandpoint.

We discovered evidence that goblins had entered the northern gate and made their way to the cemetery. There they had broken open a tomb and plundered it. It was the tomb of Father Tobyn, the original priest of the church that had burned down.

We checked with the sheriff about why the northern gate was unlocked and unguarded, and he expressed surprised. It was not supposed to be open or unguarded. He checked the work sheet for the day and found that nobody was listed for gate duty — a strange circumstance indeed.

We concluded that the attack was probably intended as a distraction so that the tomb could be plundered.

But why was still a mystery.

But I may have found my adventure.