Author Archives: Steve

Captain’s Log, 6th Erastus 4718

A captain’s nightmare. Sailing up to Rivenrake—already a “cursed” destination according to many of the more superstitious among us. Sending out a longboat to take six passengers ashore for a little sightseeing. Fair enough—it’s their coin paying for the little side trip, and many are curious to see the island that is the source of so many rumors and ghost stories. But as the crew watched in horror, the passengers murdered the crew who rowed them ashore, leaving their bodies as they disappeared inland. Knowing that a mutiny would ensue if more crew were sent to that beach, the captain abandoned their bodies and the longboat to return to port in Magnimar.

That was the tale I was told by the captain of the Lordim Racer. As much as I wish that were just a tall tale told around a campfire, it actually happened. And here I am, at the scene of the crime. This time I have brought my friends to this place. On the trail, whether intentionally or not, of those killers. They have faced worse, from all their stories. But still, I will worry until they are back safely aboard Tyalee’s Whim. Who knows what dangers lurk in that cursed mountain? Just looking up at that giant face carved into its peak is disconcerting.

Oh, Tyalee, my dearest, my love.

At times like this I wonder where you have gone, what you’re up to… if you’re safe…

Every time I sail over mother’s grave these thoughts hit me, but now, as I sit at anchor within sight of Hollow Mountain, my new friends risking life and limb for their mission, my mind is dwelling on these morbid thoughts.

And I miss your carefree, unpredictable nature, your love for life. Perhaps Ashava can guide my mind back to still waters. How ironic that the Elf maiden who introduced me to the worship of the True Spark, who helped me overcome my despair as our love dashed on the rocks and we went our separate paths, couldn’t overcome her own pain and sadness about her own past?

Until last week, at least. I am happy for her newfound joy and peace, as much as every time I think of you, my Tyalee, full of hope that somewhere you are flitting from island to island out there exulting in every random moment of your life. I know I had to choose… couldn’t follow you on the path you had to take. But I still scan every dock of every port on the chance that perhaps you are there too. Straining to see your familiar form standing in the sunlight, your hair blowing in the breeze.

But alas, I need to keep my mind here on the present situation. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll send a crew to collect the longboat abandoned by the Racer. I hope they are not too afraid of any kind of taint of cursing on it for being at the scene of the murders or even just for being on the Old Man’s Launch which they say is haunted.

Captain’s Log, 29th Sarenith 4718

Tyalee’s Whim is docked at last in her familiar berth in the Ordellia district. This has certainly been a more eventful voyage than I thought it would be at first. Storms are always a risk every captain understands will strike where they may, and this trip was no exception. We were hit at midnight mid-journey with a bad one. At one point or two we surely would have had lost a crew member overboard if not for the quick actions of our daring and capable passengers. They certainly more than paid for their passage with their assistance in times of need such as that.

But as fate would have it, they were on hand to prevent an even worse catastrophe. Another of the passengers, the alchemist Beckwood Roos, had snuck a dangerous creature aboard under the pretense it was a crate of equipment. It broke out during the voyage and doubtless would have eaten the cargo of cattle and as many of the crew as it could have before we’d have stopped it. As I have learned, it apparently grows larger as it feeds, so that would be a problem that would make itself worse the longer it goes on. Due to the quick work on the part of this adventuring party, however, it was dispatched without much incident.

The other big trouble came from another pair of the passengers. I had been quite pleased to be carrying the renowned Viralane Barvisai. She was pleasant, personable, and while I thought her doting halfling assistant Corla was a little too devoted which to be honest I found somewhat cringeworthy, nothing seemed to me to be amiss about them. Imagine my shock and dismay to find that as we neared our destination at Magnimar, Viralane assaulted one of my passengers, Remi, and attempted to steal from her. While thankfully no one was seriously injured, the party subdued the pair although Viralane managed to escape through magical means.

I have now turned over Corla and Roos to a pair of Hellknights who had paused their patrol to watch as we discussed the prisoners with the harbormaster’s agent. They stepped up and promised to deliver the pair to justice, which visibly drained the blood from the faces of both of them. I have always regarded these “peacekeeping forces” with mixed feelings at best. I couldn’t honestly say if they meant they would deliver them into the hands of the city guard, magistrates, or to mete out justice themselves as they saw fit. I might care more to intervene except for the ways each of them endangered my crew and passengers. And for that I feel little need to show them extra mercy. No one messes with my people, not on my ship or off of it.

My crew has offloaded the cows and begun a thorough cleaning of the hold and lower deck. I know my new friends are expecting to continue on to Rivenrake Island so they can carry out some mission they have with the mountain there. I will wait until I hear back from them before agreeing to take on any other passengers or cargo. I owe them at least that much, I think. But on that point, I have heard enough other sailors in port talk about recent interest in Rivenrake to make me think there is more going on there than one party’s lone trip there for a secret mission. I should see what else I can discover that will be useful for them to know going in there.

As I was getting ready for dinner tonight, I got a visit from Audrahni. I have never seen my old friend so calm and at peace as long as I’ve known her. She told me about what happened earlier and the peace she found after putting Ilsynor’s spirit to rest. From what she said about his involvement with the Skinsaw Cult before she killed him, I don’t blame her at all for the murder, however much it tortured her for years after. But sending him to his final rest has allowed her the peace I see in her now, and perhaps will eventually be reconciled with Ashava. I would love to see her restored as a full cleric again at last. I know that would make her happiest.

For now, I will oversee the refits and final repairs we didn’t have time for in Sandpoint and ready Tyalee’s Whim for another voyage soon.

Audrahni’s Journal, 6th Sarenith, 4718 AR

Good news, at least, has come my way today. Amidst all of the turmoil in the Cove of late, I admit I am more than ready for some good news. Thinking more in recent days about Roderic has brought back too many painful memories for me. I cannot just keep pushing everything to the background, hoping I can move on as if they never happened, or as if their implications and consequences can be ignored. I see I am going to have to go back and face them squarely and resolve them one way or another.

But first things first. Right now, I live in the Cove and the Cove has a restless soul I can help. Must help. And I pray his is the last departed soul or lifeless body I need to put to premature final rest from among the local populace. The rumor I heard of a sighting of yet another of the shapeless blobs near the Cove has me concerned that I may be hoping in vain. Fortunately whatever it really was has not yet been seen in town. I can’t take my suspicions to Julit or Larenza. I just know she’s behind it all. Somehow. I have no proof to show anyone, of course, and I could be wrong. I just know her and if anything bad is going on, I have no doubt she is somehow behind it, profiting from it, and ultimately able to brag all about it. But now Julit is obviously tired of hearing me rant about her without any proof to act upon, so I will remain civil and silent. But I am watching. Oh yes, my old friend, I am watching you.

But I mentioned good news. Julit did tell me that vile gremlin is at last caged and from what she says, on his way to becoming some other town’s problem. Good riddance.

Better news! The little band of would-be town heroes is rapidly establishing themselves as a force for good in our town and environs. They not only rescued a pair of dwarves being held captive by some goblins in the Churlwood, but they went on to wipe out the nest of goblins entirely. At least as Julit tells the tale, the goblins were deeply entrenched and had capable leadership including a spellcaster or two. Nothing sophisticated of course, probably some kind of goblin shaman or a chief who managed to figure out how to sharpen his dogslicer, but I have no doubt that was a dangerous enemy to take on and impressive that they came out on top without losing any of their people.

Best news of all? I heard from Sursha again! She’s sailing up here to the Cove. From the date of her letter and what I can guess of her itinerary, I expect to see the Whim docked any day now. I relish the chance to enjoy a quiet dinner and evening with her to catch up and talk through some of the things bouncing around in my head these days.

From the Desk of Larenza Thort

5th Sarenith, 4718 AR

Oh, hell, no. Roderic’s Cove is not going to devolve into chaos. Not on my watch, and if I know Covers, not on anyone’s watch. Any town that can be under the thumb of Riddleport and go about fiercely telling themselves they determine their own fate, their own future damn you all isn’t going to fall apart due to a few ruffians from the woods, discontented Covers, or a ghost here or there.

And yet in the last several days all of those things have conspired to test our limits more than in recent memory. There is trouble in the Cove and by all the gods I’ll see it settle down to business as usual before our friends to the northwest take notice and decide to “help” me “maintain the order” here.

Yesterday we reached an unheard-of level of new problems when reports came in of some misshapen humanoid forms that attacked Svaci in the north woods. We still don’t know if they were once men that were melted or corrupted somehow, or human-shaped abominations someone pieced together from hunks of flesh. I’m told the scholars up at Peacock Manor are investigating. I hope they find some answers soon, in case any more of those things are around. I said as much aloud in earshot of the gravedigger, which earned me a derisive snort from her. Whatever, I don’t have time for that. I need answers.

Julit’s adding a patrol to the north just in case more of those things show up again. A shame about the guards she sent to investigate the disappearance of Galdsbredtha’s teamsters as they were driving here with a shipment from the Iron Peaks. Poor Lyndwyn was beside herself when she came pleading for help searching the Churlwood for them. We suspected Road Keepers immediately, of course, but they swore over and over that it was goblins of all things, that waylaid them, forcing them to abandon their wagon and stumble into town on foot. A small crew went back and retrieved the wagon (which was astonishingly intact, so the Keepers must not have found it yet themselves and the goblins were otherwise occupied), but there was no sign of the goblins. Now we have learned that the goblin lair was some distance away, so they abducted the dwarves and made haste to get away with their captives and didn’t bother to come back that far out again later.

Sadly, the guards sent to rescue the dwarves returned back to the Cove posthumously. We have arranged, for yet more troubling reasons (as if we needed more now), to have them buried today before sundown. That news, the bodies of the fallen, and the rescued dwarves, come courtesy of a few locals who seem to have banded together to help the Cove in our time of … whatever the hell this is that’s happening right now. They recently visited The Wreck after the ghost of Sir Roderic appeared. They say they have some kind of answers that will lead them to him finding his final rest, the poor bastard. Let us hope and pray they succeed. So far, they defeated the flesh-things, saved Svaci’s life, rescued the dwarves, and if their tale is true, rid us of the problem of living next to a forest infested with goblins.

The dwarves look like they didn’t suffer any permanent damage from their captivity, so with the goblins gone, I have asked Julit to focus on finding out what seems to have triggered this confrontation between the Keepers and the Fangs and put a stop to it before we have to bury more Covers.

I must stop for now. There is much left to be done today, and I need to go unlock the map cabinet for the—I’m not sure what to call them… heroes?—to look for some of Roderic’s old maps they are curious about.

Audrahni’s Journal, 4th Sarenith, 4718 AR (addendum)

They returned at mid-day from The Wreck. What an adventure they found for themselves, too. It seems to me that there is still some cleanup that needs to be done later, as they left behind some dangerous creatures, but if we can find what will allow Sir Roderic to go to his final rest, some of that may go away on its own, so I am content continuing to pursue that goal first. Not to mention the fact that an abandoned building such as that is bound to continue attracting vermin and other animals anyway.

Their tale was fascinating. From what they said, I believe they did in fact have Aurek himself manifest to them at least twice. The other encounters they had with him (and, astonishingly, his family) are, I think, merely haunts left behind in the house. Those, I think, will dissipate on their own. Interesting that they also managed to open the water-filled closet that almost killed that poor girl a while back. I should have warned them about that, even though the town boarded it up after that last incident. I forgot to ask them if they secured it again. A remnant, no doubt, of the watery tragedy that claimed Sir Roderic’s life and the lives of his wife and children.

The poltergeist concerns me, however. I cannot think of a connection it would have to Roderic and so I suspect it won’t leave on its own until someone goes in there and deals with it directly.

Reading between the lines, I suspect the old home is short a few valuables since yesterday, but from my point of view, considering the service being performed to the Cove and Roderic himself, I doubt he would mind. Being deceased with no living descendants would tend to change one’s attachment to material possessions, I should think.

My main concerns are centered around Roderic’s messages and a few things they found in the house.

I am sure Corstela would go to great lengths to get her hands on the sword case they found. I’m equally sure she shouldn’t, but I’m probably just letting an old grudge get in the way of my judgement, but even keeping her from having one more excuse to be pompously full of herself is a benefit. Roderic himself was particularly focused on the sword the box apparently contained.

The Cove.

Stone house in the woods.

Gauntlet.

Save them.

My map.

The key.

Curious and cryptic to a maddening degree. And intriguing nonetheless. The map fragment they found with the initials “St. Hs.” would seem to be a natural match to the stone house, whatever that is.

They took my map.

Find the map. They took the map. To town.

True, a long time ago the town took all the maps Sir Roderic had drawn to the town hall. They are of impressive quality, but I don’t recall anything abnormally important about any of them. I should ask Larenza to let me take a look through them.

Holds the key.

What holds the key? What key? To what?

Baraket will control them. May control you.

If Baraket is the sword the team talked about, this is quite a concern. All we need is some item imbued with malevolent power running amok in the Cove. We must find out what that warning actually means and what to do about it.

Must endure where I did not.

There’s a mystery. Sir Roderic was said to have been a brave soul, feared by his enemies as much as he was loved by his friends. What bested his resolve? He was, as they say, only human, after all. Everyone has a weakness.

The vault. It lies still in the vault.

This is a mystery, too. I have never heard of The Wreck having a vault, nor do I think there is a vault in the Cove, although there could be one in the town hall, Peacock Manor, or in a private residence that I would have no knowledge of. How to conduct a search for this vault without arousing suspicion?

The party said they fought some kind of misshapen abomination north of the Cove before meeting me. They dropped it off with the scholars at Peacock Manor. That should keep them occupied for a while. I will look with interest to see if they can manage to figure anything out about them, or what wild tales they will come up with to appear as though they know exactly what’s going on and how lucky we all are that they are here in town to know everything oh, so much better than everyone else.

That’s it, I need a drink.

Audrahni’s Journal, 4th Sarenith, 4718 AR

Oh, True Spark, what have I gotten myself into? I have still not adjusted to how tragically short these beings’ lives are in this world, even after all these years.  How can they stand it? And yet for all that brevity they so carelessly throw their lives away over the most astonishing trivialities.

And now, this.

Ever since young Jana returned to Roderic’s Cove, she and her little band of disaffected and disgruntled misfits have been involved in the occasional little controversy and their share of tut-tutting from the upstanding community pillars, but never did they leave behind a body count. This is new, and it is troubling to me on many levels.

Six bodies. Six unfortunate victims of a midnight confrontation in the Circle. And an enigma. All six were members of the Horned Fangs judging from the symbols on their clothing, but only one had an obvious cause of death. When Desil and I did our best to investigate the scene we were at a loss to explain it. The one who was stabbed in the throat was obvious. The others? Dead of… can humans really die of fright? It seems perhaps they can.

Something else is lurking in the shadows here, I can feel it. This smells just like Ironbriar. But who… what dark cult or shadowy conspiracy is at work here? Here, of all places? I thought I left all of that sort of thing back in Magnimar. Damn it all!

Perhaps it is just a clash with the Roadkeepers, as most seem to be assuming.  But I have, mostly for personal reasons, my share of doubts on that score.  Especially now.  (I find that at least more believable than the other rumor going around that it was Sir Roderic’s ghost that frightened them to death.)

Another clash in the Circle. In broad daylight this time, with what looked to be an all-out brawl between the Fangs and the Roadkeepers. A brawl that, thankfully, never actually took place. But the reason why it was interrupted before it began is what troubles me—troubles and yet interests me—most of all. Sir Roderic’s ghost appeared and frightened the combatants (and townspeople) away.

I am no stranger to matters of ghosts and the perils of navigating one’s way from this life to the next. I had thought Roderic had passed on, but now he has manifested after a decade of silence. Why now? What is keeping him here, unable to move on? Clearly there must be some unfinished task, some concern so overwhelming to him that his restless spirit lingers until it is resolved. But what? How?

I feared, as I thought about these events last week, that I must return to his home for the answers. I am ashamed that I do indeed fear to go back there. What it represents to me… Damn it all… But it’s really the best starting point to start getting answers that can ultimately put Sir Roderic to rest. I was so preoccupied with these thoughts that I stupidly let myself walk under the tree that Retch was sitting in. Hateful little miscreant. I had just washed my clothes, too.

As fortune would have it, a group of newer residents was on hand when the latest dust-up occurred in the Circle. They tried to defuse the conflict before Roderic’s ghost appeared. As much as it troubles me that he hasn’t found his rest, I am also intrigued and slightly disappointed that I didn’t have a close-up encounter with his ghost like these others did. The fact that they didn’t all scatter with the rest of the townsfolk at Roderic’s manifestation also gives me hope. Perhaps these are people capable of stepping up to be (dare I use such an extravagant term) the heroes the Cove needs in these troubled days.

Perhaps they could investigate the wreck of Roderic’s old home when I cannot. I knew I must speak with them. Some of them I was at least passingly familiar with. I had seen Vladimir here and there around town. He always struck me as someone unlikely to spend his life working in a sawmill, so I assume that to be a temporary means to other ends for him. I think I noticed him more because of what I sensed about him—the familiar little things common to those who are haunted by something. Whether it is literal (as in the case of ghosts or spirits) or some dread, fear, or trauma, I do not know. But I wonder how I might help him. Then again, I have found that humans get strength from their adversities often enough, so perhaps that wouldn’t be “helping” after all.

The odd pair that are Droste and Yanor seem to be researchers of some sort, as I have often noticed them running around examining the finer details of a stone they took a liking to, or overheard them excitedly talking about the ancient history of the Circle, or the Thassilonian ruins they saw in places like Magnimar. I suppose interest in the ancient world is the latest fashion, but they are far more invested than the average person. I wondered at first if they were some of Corstela’s followers, but they don’t really seem the type. They appear to be the kind of researchers who are willing—even excited—to get their hands dirty with fieldwork rather than pompously pontificating about it in a lecture hall. I don’t know if they went over there to apply for membership, but I suspect if they had, she would have rejected them. I hope that wasn’t disappointing, if that happened. They would have dodged an arrow there for sure. Corstela is an asshole. I realized that a long time ago before either of us had moved to the Cove.

Speaking of odd pairs, the twin sisters Sasha and Shura showed up at my house one day looking for answers about the family they came from but never knew. Tragic story but as I mused above regarding the need to rise above adversity, they have come from that point of origin through a series of hardships and challenges and emerged, even at their young age, with strength and purpose, and what I sense as a strong faith in Sarenrae. Shura is particularly fierce about defending her faith, or at least fighting those who oppose her truth. I am happy at least to have been able to guide them to finding the answers they sought by locating the final resting place of their grandparents. (That makes me feel a little better in light of the disappointing lack of leads I could find for poor Yanor and his search for his Isabella.) And now I see they have fallen in with this group of potential Heroes of the Cove (I must make a note not to call them that aloud) which surprises me not one bit, since they have been working as part of the town guard for a while now.

Shimsa seems to have the same zeal for righting wrongs and stomping out those who committed them that I see in Shura. I don’t know how they met up but I am not surprised to find them fighting together for a common cause. The good, truth, light of Sarenrae and all that, yes, but hopefully now also for the good of the Cove.

Little Jigu, one of the small number of halflings who live in town, has often delivered messages and packages to me. He has established himself as a trusted and efficient courier, but like the others he is clearly—if one troubles to take the time to notice—destined for greater things, and so I am also not surprised to see him caught up with the others.

Since this group formed, as far as I can tell, because they were the only people in the Circle bold enough to step up to handle the situation, I already feel they are likely the ones best suited to keep proactively working to investigate, and with luck even to solve, the increasing problems plaguing this quiet little community.

And indeed, after we had our chat at the Creekside, they agreed to go to Roderic’s Wreck and discover what they can to try to appease his ghost. I sent along a few items I have been saving to protect myself for that same expedition. But who am I kidding? I’m not going to go, so those items are better in the hands of those who will, and if they are successful in that mission it’s well worth that price.

I eagerly await news of what they found.