Category Archives: Jade Regent

The Jade Regent adventure path.

Character: NPC

The Dalmuvian Brothers, Part 2

Leave a reply

Starday, 31 Abadius 4713
 Creduvian House, Magnimar

The hearth was still warm, but the embers were dying. Dinner had been welcome, but not very filling. Often, it wasn’t, these days.

Money was no longer flush in their home, but Roxanda and her parents had managed to finally get a place of their own again for the family. True, there had been better times in the past, but out of respect for her father, they didn’t bring up the past.

As it was, the family already found they had to remind him frequently he was now “retired” and any obligation to support his children had long since been met. It was his turn to be taken care of. With a muttered grunt and silent acknowledgement, he made it clear that while it may be true, it chafed him greatly. It had been a while since the day when Tobar was the patriarch of Creduvian Couriers, a successful and respected courier and shipping service. At times, some very wealthy merchants would trust nobody but him to get their shipments of goods to and from Sandpoint, Roderic’s Cove, or even Korvosa.

But then there’d been a dishonest driver, missing goods, and a soiled reputation. Competition for deliveries was fierce, margins were thin, and his competitors could sense blood in the water. All it took was a few anonymous innuendos and a few discounted offers from his competition, and his wealthy customers were gone. Too often loyalty is measured by the gold piece, and under the shadow of accusation, the business struggled and for all intents and purposes, succumbed.

Effectively, it was gone now. The business that Tobar had hoped to pass to his sons Vankor and Bevelek was nothing but a weight around their neck. The family name, a symbol of prestige for so long, was now a hurdle to overcome anywhere in Magnimar. “Creduvian, you say? Sorry, we have all the drivers we need.” Tobar and his wife of over 35 years, Ioanela, were, officially, among the poor.

Retirement. It may be a thinly veiled euphemism for her father, but it was not an option for her younger brothers.

These days, it was Roxanda who was the main source of income with her job as an assistant at The Old Fang. Vankor and Bevelek had been working hard at their father’s business when the bottom fell out and they found themselves unemployed, and unemployable because of their name. Thank the gods for Sandru, who never did follow the mainstream. While he couldn’t restore their good name, he helped them create a new one (Dalmuvian) and offered them a place on his team. Eventually, the plan was to establish new credentials, escape their old, and perhaps still become successful businessmen. In the best case, they might take up some of Sandru’s business when he retired.

They rarely accompanied the caravan to Magnimar for obvious reasons, so the road was their home these days. But business with Sandru was good, and they both sent a healthy percentage of their earnings back home to support their parents. Being associated with a delivery service still had one important benefit: letters home were delivered quickly. Those ‘in the business’ knew how important they could be, and personal messages from drivers and employees were delivered by whomever was going in the right direction, free of charge, as a professional courtesy.

Although it was barely twilight, Roxanda was willing to let the fire die and go to bed. But her gaze turned to a box overflowing with different kinds of parchment and paper. Bed often came early these hard days, but reading her brothers’ letters comforted her. She was closest with Bevelek, which was good because he was a much more frequent writer. On second thought, she threw a bit more fuel on the fire, lit a lamp, and started once again to reread some of the letters.

24 Sarenith 4712
Sandpoint

Dear Roxanda,

I had thought we might be heading out to Korvosa next, but Sandru received an urgent letter about midway to Magnimar and we turned north to Sandpoint.  This place is rich with history – well, recent history, if you consider the Runelord incident. The Sandpoint Heros haven’t been seen in what, five years now?  I keep thinking that we might run into them, although I’m not sure what I’d do if I did.  Ask for a little gold, I guess, if the stories are accurate!

Sandru has a friend here, Ameiko, with whom he’s meeting.  Judging from the look on his face when he got the urgent letter, somebody must be in deep guano.  Not to revel in the misfortunes of others, but if deep guano yields more money, I’m all for it!  Vankor, of course, is taking the cautious approach; he doesn’t believe that the path that yields the most money is necessarily the best one.  He may be right in the long run, but for now, more money is a very good thing.

We’re not that far from Magnimar, so I hope this letter reaches you quickly and finds you safe.

your brother,
Bevelek

2 Erastus 4712
Sandpoint

Dear Roxanda,

I’m not sure how often I will be writing in the future. Sandru has gotten all secretive and a little scary about this next delivery.  He called us all together and said that if anybody wanted to step out for this one, he’d understand and they’d still have a place when we returned.

If we returned, he corrected himself.  That immediately led to a bunch of questions that he said he couldn’t answer.  It could be more hazardous than usual, he said. We’d be delivering to the north, but he couldn’t say the final destination.  He did say that owing to the hazard, the pay for this trip would be a little better. He admitted it was part business and part personal favor.

Only one person opted out; Vankor and I, of course, smiled at each other at the mention of more money.  Sandru said to us that despite the minimal training most of us have at fencing, he wanted each of us to purchase a blade to bring along.  He would reimburse us.  He said there was a decent chance there would be more robbers along this road.

He declined to describe the cargo we’d be taking on.  He did say there would be a fair number of extra personnel on this trip. I’ve had a chance to meet most if not all of the “extra personnel” and I hope they are more skilled than they appear.

There’s Anavaru.  She dresses like she lives on the road a lot, and seems to have an affinity for animals.  Large ones, if her “mount” is any indication.  I have never seen a camel before, but Sandru says now I have.

Kali is a slight thing.  She tends to dress brightly, and carries no weapon that I can see. I am surprised by her presence on this delivery. Although her parents have used Sandru’s service several times before, they have never sent a personal emissary.  I wonder if she is the ‘delivery to the north’.  Sandru doesn’t usually take passengers but perhaps he has made an arrangement with her parents because of their history.

By contrast, Radella carries a sword that is both impressive in its length and slender in its width. Despite the size of her sword (and herself) she moves smoothly, deliberately, and at times, silently.  I assume she is here as an additional guard.

Shalelu is elven, and smells of the forest, not unlike Anavaru. She carries an obvious blade, however, and I sense that it would be a mistake to believe it to be strictly ornamental.

Olmas is also elven, or maybe half elven, and also has a mount – a much more conventional “horse”.  I believe I’ve heard him call it Cashmere.  He carries a longsword and although he may be yet another guard (how valuable is this cargo?) he also seems to order people around – or try to. They don’t seem to listen.

Speaking of not listening, Qatana is also among these ‘extra personnel’.  I should not say she doesn’t listen; what I should say is that she seems to hear things nobody else does … and not in an oracle-like way.  She can be friendly and outgoing one instant, and angry and in your face the next.

Ameiko has all the equipment for a swordsman, but seems … I don’t know, rusty in the way she carries it.  She would likely still do better than I in a fight though. I wonder if she and Sandru were an item in the past.

Ivan is an ordinary human with a bow. I suppose he will be a good hunter should we need to forage.

Koya, of course, is our fortuneteller.  It is a good omen to have her along.  Lately, she’s been playfully complaining that the longer trips are too taxing for a woman of her, uh, advancing years.  She’s never missed one, though, save last year when she was stricken with the Varisian Flu.

Etayne seems familiar with plants.  Perhaps we will have an actual cook for this journey instead of whoever drew the short straw in the morning.  Although, I may miss Sandru’s meals, which always start with some form of ale marinade.

Among the usual crew is Sandru, of course, Vankor and I, and Sparna.   If we do have any run-ins, I am confident that Sparna will be at the front line and will make them wish they’d picked a vendor cart rather than Sandru’s caravan.

All in all, we are five rather heavily armed, and really, rather lightly loaded wagons heading north.  Sandru vaguely hinted we may be back in a few weeks.  If so, perhaps we could meet briefly in Magnimar? I haven’t seen you, mother and father in some time now.  I’ll try to send a note ahead to let you know we’re near.

your brother,
Bevelek

20 Erastus 4712
North of Sandpoint

Dear Roxanda,

Sorry to be vague, but Sandru has asked that I (and all of us, in our correspondence and conversations) be cirumspect about our location.  What I can say for certain is that this trip isn’t over.

Something very important happened this morning, judging from the gasps and other sounds that came out of Ameiko’s wagon.  She has been ill for a while now, and Koya has not been able to determine exactly how to make her better.  Now, however, she not only seems better, but … different somehow.

Most of the caravan people were in or near that wagon when that important thing happened, but Vankor and I were not.  Sandru took us aside later and said this trip was going farther north than he’d previously thought.  While underscoring we’d continue to be paid for our services should we continue, he wanted to again give us the option of returning to Sandpoint and awaiting the caravan’s return.  Of course, we both decided to stay.

He looked both relieved and worried.  He asked if we had practiced much with our swords, and of course the answer was no – keeping a caravan going is already a full time job.  As requested we have them but beyond that …

I have noticed a warrior woman seems to have joined our caravan. She seems to be yet another guard. What IS it that we are carrying?  How far is Kali going to go?

But he urged us to get practice in. He said that the – that those who opposed – that bandits might be more numerous on this leg of the trip.  Unfortunately for him, Sandru does not lie well.  That statement alone already raised more questions:  who are “they”?  They aren’t bandits, clearly.  “Leg of the trip?”  How many legs might this trip have?

He rolled his eyes and muttered a short curse.  “I cannot say more at this point,” he admitted.  “But – do I need to hire more staff?”

Of course not. I don’t know what cargo we are carrying, but this journey is paying well.  Perhaps you can take some of what I’m sending and treat Mother and Father to a nice meal out.

I’m slowly getting the sense that Sandru may be viewing this as his last caravan.  He seems “all in” on this one, but he’s not said a word about future jobs, contracts, deliveries.  Very unusual.  Maybe … just maybe, this will be our chance to take over some of his business.  Wouldn’t that be great?  I don’t want to dwell on it too much because we’re so far away that that the transition would be hard, but, as I rose this morning and saw the light brighten over the castle, I dared to believe this might be a new beginning.

Don’t say anything to Father yet. But the rest of the party seemed driven by new purpose this morning, and maybe for a different reason, so am I.

with a light heart,
Bevalek

14 Arodus 4712
Kalsgard

Dear Roxanda,

It would seem there is no longer any particular point in disguising where I’m writing from.  We are so far north that if our enemies were to intercept this, they either already know our location or we would be long gone by the time they got here.

Yes, I said enemies.  A week ago, a group of two-score warriors attacked us at night as we camped near the river outside Kalsgard.  I was indeed happy to have a sword, but the other, more skilled warriors in our camp did far more damage to our attackers.  In fact, demure little Kali literally made the earth tremble with her magic.  I am no more sure where we are taking her, but I do know I do NOT want her angry at me!

And we’ve been told to watch for “suspicious birds,” whatever that may mean.

While here, the group seems to be searching for something.  Sometimes it seems to be a person, and sometimes it seems to be a thing.  Or maybe it’s both.  I’m not in the loop on this, and if 40 warriors are willing to die to stop us, I’m not sure I want to be in the loop.  Even though we are buying and selling cargo as we move from town to town, this is clearly not a typical caravan run.

A lot has changed. Kali clearly has no need of a weapon, and seems more than capable of protecting herself.  The extra warrior we picked up at Brinewall proved most helpful.  Even Sandru, Ameiko, and Shalelu showed they have more battle skills than I’d given them credit for.  I have never been on a journey like this before.

Have to go now. Vankor and I made plans to spar.  We both are highly motivated to improve our fencing skills these days.  Please do not worry, though.  It is apparent that the group we are with is quite capable of defending themselves and the caravan and although I may still hold a longsword a bit awkwardly, I am confident that anybody attacking us will die before I do.

your swordmaster brother,
Bevalek

Roxanda rubbed her brow and wiped away imaginary sweat.  Bandits was one thing, but the idea that her brother had faced 40 warriors, all armed with swords and armor?  It worried her when she first read the letter several weeks ago, and bothered her still.  He had never been in the army or even a local reserve.  She shuffled through the correspondence, searching for … ah. There it was.

10 Neth 10 4712
Iqaliat

Dear sister –

More things have happened since we left Kalsgard than I would expect in ten lives.  If every caravan that comes to the Crown of the World must endure the trials that we have, it’s a wonder that we even know there is ice there.

There was Ravenscrag, the castle high in the mountain. And all the ninjas that attacked us (well, attacked the “guards” for our caravan – it’s apparent now why we have so many).  And the sword that, I swear, can talk but has no mouth.  And Etayne – Etayne felt it was time for her to leave, which made the group sad, and smaller just when it looked like large numbers was a very good idea.  There was Ulf, who we’d been seeking as our guide to points farther north.

But there was also the fearsome wolf who became our ally.  There were giant winter spiders, big as a man – right, I know! – and the COLD.  Oh, and left for last …

A dragon.

A. Giant. Huge. Actual. White. Frikken. Dragon.

Right.  But not with fire breath – no, not here in the north.  It has the breath of a winter blast.  It has the ability to literally freeze you in your tracks.  I’ve been working with the sword but what’s this little toadsticker going to do against a DRAGON?  If I’m not mistaken, I believe our group committed to dealing with this dragon, which has been terrorizing the town for several weeks now.  I mean, sure, ninjas, maybe man-size spiders, but this is a DRAGON!

And yet – I would have thought the ninjas or the man-size spiders would have been too much too but this group is just … just … what’s the word I’m looking for?

Overqualified.  I just realized it. I’ve said before this trip was special in some way and I think now I think there is abundant evidence that this group of “guards” and “drivers” is very overqualified for those positions.  So what IS our purpose?  The only thing I know for sure that it isn’t to take cargo to these distant places.  It’s true, we ARE making money but all these side adventures suggest to me there is something else going on.  If it’s not a person, perhaps we are carrying some important document.  I heard one of the fighters say something about “keeping it hidden in Ameiko’s wagon.”  I asked Sandru and he frowned briefly before smiling and saying, “Congratulations – your keen ears have discovered the secret location of the last container of pickled beans.  At least until we pick up more at the market!”

Actually, to be perfectly honest, Roxanda – it’s all frighteningly exciting.  Who knew that a ox-wrangler such as myself would turn out to be the greatest dragonslayer upon the Great Ice?  I shall use my talking sword to slay it thusly, and return with its head, and we shall mount it in a place of honor in the Grand Foyer of our mansion!

your dragon fighting brother,
Bevelek

P.S. Vankor says I am overly melodramatic.  But you remember him – he’s the one overly blind in both eyes.

P.P.S. One of the guards does have a talking sword.  I’ve no idea how that works, where exactly he got it, or what he paid for it.  The others seem to mock him for it so maybe a talking sword is actually a curse.

—-

Roxanda smiled, but the smile flitted only briefly before settling into a worried, almost grim line of concern. Imagining either of her brothers brandishing a sword and facing a dragon like an actor in some sort of fantasy play was amusing, but in real life neither was a swordsman, and neither had battled anything more dangerous than an escaped goat.  Any such encounter would not last long.

She glanced at the date on the letter.  Letters from the top of the world did not come speedily and it was amazing they came at all.  That last one had taken weeks.

As she carefully refiled the letter from Bevelek, a faint smile crossed her face.  He may be the younger, but he did have a way with the pen, and she could almost hear –

A panic grabbed her by the chest. It came from nowhere, but she suddenly felt a jolt – no, a sadness.  Surprise?  And then … and a pain deeper than any she’d felt before. How can you die and still be breathing?  The shock left her sagging and gasping in her chair. Then it was gone, and all she had was her racing heart, her sweaty face, and her shallow breaths.  Her eyes fell to the letter from Bevelek, now trembling uncertainly in her hand.

There was a shriek from the back of the house. Roxanda leapt from her bench and ran towards the sound, to find her mother leaning against a wall, barely upright, with terror-stricken eyes.  She looked at her daughter and said, in a very small voice, one word.

“Bevelek.”

Roxanda’s eyes were haunted as they darted back to the bench and the letter that had fluttered to the floor.  She gently supported her sobbing mother as she said, “I felt it too!” and hugged her tightly.

At that same moment, many hundreds of miles north, and then south again, a man fell, awkwardly holding a sword before a shadowy figure no longer of this earth.

A half hour later, many hundreds of miles north,  and then south again, a different man started a letter he never expected to write, using skills he found awkward, struggling with words he never hoped to use.

“I don’t know when this will be delivered, as there are no other caravans nearby right now.  But even if none of us survive this trip, I can hope that whoever finds us will deliver this letter.  Dearest sister, you should know that today Bevelek bravely -”

And the man paused until the tears passed.

Starday, 13 Erastus 4713
 Creduvian House, Magnimar

The courier left without knowing that he had carried the most valuable delivery ever to the House of Creduvian.  But the small package and the two scrolls he carried – which from the reaction was one more than was apparently expected – were eagerly accepted, and he was tipped well.

Roxanda, Tobar, and Ioanella, took everything inside, and gently placed it on the dining table. Ceremoniously, they retrieved three chairs and slowly sat on three sides of the table.  It had been a little more than six months since that night when Roxanda and her mother had felt the great pain, and they were certain what this package and at least one of the letters contained.

Tobar solemnly lit a single candle and placed it in the center of the table. Roxanda unconsciously wiped her palms on her tunic and glanced at her mother.  She stared almost straight ahead before blinking slowly and turning her gaze to her husband.  He took a deep breath and reached for one of the scrolls.

—-

Jaagiin
17 Abadius 4713

Dear Roxanda –

I am astonished to be writing this.  I was not present when it happened, yet the evidence is irrefutable.  A week ago, our caravan ‘guards’, ‘scouts’, and ‘wagonmasters’ left to go ‘deal with’ the dragon I mentioned earlier.  They’d made some deal with the town of Iqaliat.  And returned … with pieces of dragon.

The town of Iqaliat arose in celebration, even though it turns out their shaman had been the one to provoke the dragon in the first place.  Before we left, Ivan even married one of the townspeople.  We were told we were welcome back at any time – and Iqaliat is known for being somewhat cautious with outsiders.

From there, we began a long trip across the Ice and the Crown of the World.  Since we have left, we have encountered strange animals, demons, ghosts, and undead.  I get the sense that the Ice is not normally populated by most of these things but that instead, our journey, people, or cargo is drawing powerful attention.  There is still some secret being kept among most of the group, and I’m afraid to ask Sandru any more about it because it might just be safer not to know.

The ‘guards’ and ‘drivers’ we picked up continue to amaze me.  At least two have proven to be increasingly powerful magic users, while the others have gotten deadlier and more accurate with their weapons of choice.  All to our credit, because had they not I would not be writing this letter!  Olmas, with the talking blade, has recently discovered that when wielded particularly well, it can burst into flame and startle an opponent.  Ivan’s bow, I swear, can shoot an entire quiver in one shot – and 80% of that will draw blood!

While I will never approach the skills of our swordsmen and archers, my training continues.  I am taking Sandru’s request seriously because I’ve seen the things that can approach us and I fear the day when these others are absent or dead and defense falls to us.  This trip is more fantastic than any we’ve undertaken, but more dangerous than any as well.

We are now in Jaagiin, and we face crossing the Wall of Heaven – the last mountain range before returning to warmer clime.  I admit, it already is warmer by simply getting off the high ice, but warmer now means it ordinarily takes a full hour to freeze to death rather than minutes.

i expect my next missive will have to wait until we cross the mountain, and you’ve probably already noticed that as we get farther away, it takes longer to receive letters.  Don’t worry – that’s just the way courier service works!  Hah!

your distant brother,
Bevelek

“Well. ” began Roxanda, more to break the empty silence than anything.  Although her father remained classically stoic, both her mother and she were certain this was the last letter they would read from Bevelek, and that alone was enough to bring a tear to their eyes.

With a heavy hand and a sigh, Tobar reached for the other scroll.  He opened it and his eyes fell to the last lines.  “It’s from Vankor,” he said, and even his voice trembled.  “Dear parents and Roxanda,” he began reading. “I am writing this having passed through – literally through – the Wall of Heaven.”  Tobar began to read in a mumbling sort of voice. “… more undead … dozen or more … Bevelek …”

And then a strange thing happened.  As he continued reading, Tobar’s eyes got big.  His voice stopped working, and for the first time in many years, he began to openly weep.  And then laugh. And point at the letter.  And try to talk.  And look to the heavens, hands supplicant.  And finally, just put his head down on the table, his whole body shaking.  Roxanda cried silent tears and gently took the parchment to finish what her father could not complete.

Ordu-Arcanhei, Tian Xia
20 Calistril 4713

Dear parents and Roxanda;

I am writing this having passed through – literally through – the Wall of Heaven.  We were frustrated by foul weather through the best mountain pass, and there was talk in the caravan of yet another supernatural being trying to frustrate our trip. Knowing no way of thwarting it, we turned instead to the faint hope that a dream of Koya’s had given us.  She was reminded of a legend of a path through the mountain rather than over it.  It would lie to the east, but she knew not how far.  Figuring we had nothing to lose, Sandru turned us east.

And we did in fact find an opening to a cave, marked with a strange mix of religious symbols.  Unfortunately what may have once been a well-maintained passageway had fallen into disrepair and seemed to have been desecrated.

It was in this passage, while blocked by a city of the dead, that the dead rose up and attacked.  And what I’d feared might happen, did: they attacked while the powerful fighters were away.  There were more undead than we could handle; a dozen or more.  Somehow sensing the attack, the others quickly returned from their exploring of the city, but not before Bevelek died defending his friends.  Died at the hands of a faceless undead creature which his sword seemed unable to wound.  Skill was not an issue. Magic was what eventually killed this cursed horde.

I’d lost my spirit.  I started a letter to you outlining how Bevelek had died honorably and bravely, and was considering whether to continue.  But I was inside a mountain!  Where else would I go?

Then Qatana, the cleric of Grotus, came to me and said, on behalf of the others, that they would not let Bevelek die.  That seemed nonsense because he was already dead, but she said no. She had access to a spell that would channel holy energy to restore life, but it required materials we would not be able to obtain until we again reached a town.  She had already cast a spell on him to preserve his body, since a town was likely still days away.  She had but one question – would Bevelek want to return?

I knew all the letters he had sent home, and I know his love of life. I know he loves all of you.  I was certain he would want to return if given the choice.  And then I had one question for her: Grotus would restore life?  She assured me he would.

And so it was that just a couple of days ago, while here in the Tian Xia city of Ordu-Arcanhei, while guests of the ruler of the city (I’ll let Bevelek tell you that story) we hauled him out and in a surprisingly simple ceremony, revived him.  He was weak, and wan, and looked like death warmed .. ah, well, anyway he has spent some time recovering.  The materials needed to perform this ceremony were not inconsequential, but the rest of the party pooled their gold to do it and refused to accept anything from me.  They said it was the least they could do, but from my point of view it pretty much has to be the most anyone has done or ever will do.

Bevelek does not know I sent this letter as he felt that you should never know he had been in danger, and we should simply keep it to ourselves. He made me rip up my first attempt. But that seemed wrong to me and by now his letters have probably already communicated a sense of danger.  I felt you should know that Bevelek had given the ultimate sacrifice … and had it handed back to him.  It’s too remarkable not to tell.

I do not know when we will return now, but if we turned around at this very instant and started back, it would be measured in months.  And I don’t see us doing that.  We feel strongly bound to this party and whatever fate has in store for them.

I have sent along some things.  I hope you will find them both valuable and meaningful.

Vankor

—-

It was Roxanda’s mother who recovered first this time, reaching hastily for the package.  Opening it, she discovered a small box, inside of which were 200-300 gold coins of Tian design.  They were intermingled with a modest amount of small to medium sized gems.  A note inside said

Dalmuvians – Vankor does not know I intercepted his package
and you can feel free to tattle on me when we return. He provided
the gold coins and the other, but I have added a little “hazard pay”
in gratitude for both the brothers’ bravery.
– Sandru

Examining the gems, Tobar gasped.  “There’s somewhere between 750 and 1000 gp of gems in here,” he exclaimed. Lastly, he pulled out a cloth wrapped around something about half the size of his hand.  Unwrapping it carefully revealed four very white dragon scales. On one was laboriously etched “Real”.  On the second, “Frikken”.  The third had: “Dragon!”.

And the last had a recognizable holy symbol of Grotus etched on it.

Character: Olmas

Annals of the Order of the Dragon

Leave a reply

as told by the cavalier Olmas Lurecia, himself.

Wealday, 27 Pharast

Examining the former belongings of the hobgoblins and giants, we found

[525,526] great clubs
[527] cure serious wounds (4)
[528] MW do-maru armor (6)
[529] MW heavy wooden shields (6)
[530] MW composite long bows ST +3 (6)
[531] MW morningstar (6)
[532] 74 arrows

We entered the hallway and discovered doors at each end. We piled the hill giant bodies in front of the south door to slow down anyone entering, and checked out things to the north. Radella took the lead, and I was by her side. It was not locked, and led to a short vestibule with another door in it. Caution again proved unnecessary, and it appeared to open into a corridor. To the north, we could hear voices – not alarmed, just talking. There was also a waterfall, which muffled a great deal of the conversations. We seem to be about 60′ above the activity below us, and a rickety ladder led down. Turning to the south, we saw the corridor seemed to have … decorations.

That is, if you can consider body parts “decorations”. It looked like more of the dishonorable behavior that had left two people impaled on the front door of this place, except nothing was left alive in this corridor. The smell was unnpleasant. As we moved south, it became apparent there was more than body parts here – there was another maimed body. A monk, perhaps, from the clothing …

Right then Qatana, Radella and myself distinctly heard the sound of breaking bones. At the same time, a spirit rose out of the body on the wall, wavered a bit and headed for Kali. Before anybody could take another action, it merged with Kali and her eyes went distant for a moment. We feared the worst.

We decided to use both the carrot and the stick. Radella said, not unkindly, “do you need help?” More directly, I said, “State your purpose!” Qatana looked annoyed and said, “it probably doesn’t know Common!” Then in Tien, she said, “Can we help you?”

Thru Kali, the spirit said, “I need vengeance” (in Tien, of course – Qatana translated for me.) Kali returned to us but said simply, “I’m okay. She needs to kill the oni.”

Well, we wanted to kill the oni too, so other than her taking over the body of one of our friends, we’re on the same page.

We continued to the end of the corridor where we found a small (1’x1′) iron grate. Nehali flew out and verified that this looked like the other end, in that we were about 60′ above the ground and various figures (including hobgoblins) were moving around below us. She also reported there being some stone house that apparently stood out.

We decided to rest, but Kali suggested that before we lie down, Nehali take a message to the people we rescued above us, to let them know that this was going to take longer than we thought. But Nehali returned fairly soon saying that there were hobgoblins heading towards them, so rest would have to wait.

We headed back to the entrance and encountered four hobgoblins that were apparently preparing to descend to us, but why take the chance? It looked like they might be using a magic rope to descend past the impossibly smooth portion of the opening, and while we were prepared to deal with that, Kali decided to hasten their descent by casting a sleet storm. Two lost their balance and fell to their death (or more accurately, to the party below that insured they were dead), one found themselves falling but at a very gentle rate (feather fall a la Kali). The 4th … I dispatched.

Qatana cast Hold Person on the gently fallen hobgoblin and Kali prepared to question him. But Dali, using, I guess, his thespian skills, convinced that hobgoblin that he was actually his commander, and we learned that this party was returning from a patrol and (to their knowledge) was the only one that had been out. Then we got him drunk on endless sake, and Ivan slit his throat when he passed out.

We again gained a few things:
[533] magic rope
[534] MW do-maru armor (4)
[535] MW heavy wooden shield (4)
[536] MW Composite longbows (+3 ST) (4)
[537] MW morningstar (4)
[538] 13 arrows

But no healing potions this time. Disappointing.

Returning, we discovered that Radella and Ivan had quietly pulled up the ladder to our level. And methodically destroyed it. Which I guess made us safer, but … how will we get down?

However, armed now with a little more information and a few less hobgoblins, we now at least felt safe in resting. We blocked off each end of the corridor and rested there.

Oathday, 28 Pharast

After a refreshing sleep, I arose to the sound of roosters crowing and a bright gleam hitting my eye as the sun rose over the edge of a cloudless horizon. The fresh straw beneath me yielded perceptibly as I shifted on one hip, shaded my eyes, and looked over the rest of our sleeping

Wait, what?

After a refreshing sleep, I arose to the smell of rotting body parts while in utter darkness. Virtually blind in the complete darkness, I listened carefully before cautiously sitting up. Since we required only two hours of sleep a night, many of the party were already up and doing something quietly. I strained desperately to hear crowing roosters or catch slivers of light, but lately, the dreams have been far better than the reality we are in.

Imagine my distress when I found Zos sitting next to a living, breathing, blinking, pale hill giant, grinning. “What???” I exclaimed. “You can create undead? What are you doing?” But he quickly explained, and Qatana confirmed, that this was neither living nor breathing. (It did blink on occasion, but far more slowly than normal.) “Think of this as a crude golem,” he said.

I expressed concern, but he said, “nothing to be worried about. It’s just alchemy!” and he headed off to the other hill giant corpse. I looked at Qatana, but she was following him as if ready to take notes. Nobody else seemed concerned, but it all seemed … wrong to me.

At one point, we heard a mildly distant voice complain beyond the north door, “Aw, they took the ladder again!” Nice to know you’re appreciated.

Once everyone was up, we made our plan. Everyone would need dark vision, and we’d need either fly or airwalk. Suishen could help me with the latter, and a few of the magic users could help themselves, but for the most part, we burned some more charges on the wands. Thus prepared, we would head directly for the stone house that Nehali had seen, on the assumption that our pig hobgoblin leader creature would be there. The strategy that had worked best for us so far was “don’t use the front door”. With that in mind, our target was the roof. The reanimated hill giants were left behind as possible deterrents.

With all of us present, Dasi concentrated for a bit and said that below us was about 10 creatures of average intelligence, and there seemed there might some mild dissension below. We figured the house had three levels, so there might be a few hobgoblins on each level. That should be quiet doable. Some disagreement or dissension among themselves was an added bonus. Radella quietly led the way down, and I followed.

Unfortunately, even though I was using airwalk and not touching the ground, I guess I must have brushed a wall or something, because all of a sudden the hobgoblins in the room spun and looked right at us sneaking down the stairs. Oops. Oh well.

There were 6 warriors, 4 lesser armed females around the chief, and the swine guy himself. Qatana threw up a stone wall to keep the chief and his concubines isolated, and the rest of us were able to dispatch the fighters in under 20 seconds of fierce battle. I made some strong hits on the chief, and his response was to scream, “Munasukaru, I know you’re watching!” and commit ritual suicide. I climbed over the stone wall to take care of the concubines, and suddenly it was over. Kali had summoned an earth elemental and Ivan reported giants and other bad smells below us, so we sent the elemental down there. The giants killed it, but then ran off on their own, unhappy after dealing with it.

We were left with bodies and quiet. The house was far enough away from other things that unless the giants raised an alarm, probably nobody realized what had just happened. Well, to be honest, we were also left with a few items …

[539] +2 o-yoioi armor (like plate)
[540] +1 thundering great axe
[541] gold hilted dagger
[542] MW composite longbow (+4 ST)
[543] 20 arrows
[544] belt of giant strength +4 (Qatana)
[545] leather cloak of resistance +1
[546] conical warhat +1 luck bonus to AC, 1/day negate critical or sneak (Olmas)
[547] bronze rice bowl
[548] carved box with 6 spinnets
[549] carved horn libation cup
[550] MW morningstars (6)
[551] MW composite longbow (+3 ST)
[552] MW armor (6)
[553] MW heavy wooden shields (6)
[554] 32 arrows
47 gp

That warhat would improve my increasingly insufficient armor. This mithril breastplate is nice and light but it’s starting to not be enough to protect me.

Back up on the roof, we could see a bridge that led to a passage down. And down. And down. It went down something on the order of 200 ft. There were, again, disturbing images on the wall .. more like a mural. As we descended, a dull roar was also getting louder. The corridor finally opened into a chasm which held a thundering waterfall.

Following the outflow we quickly discovered a stone house, with a drawbridge on the other side. How might we get them to drop the drawbridge. Here we got very clever. By the grace of the spirit inhabiting Kali, she knew what Munasukaru looked like. So she could create an image of her, and while we’ve no idea what her voice sounds like, it couldn’t be heard here anyway due to the waterfall. The figure could probably get them to lower the drawbridge just by gestures. Qatana and I could play the part of prisoners, but all simply float over the water, further demonstrating Munasukaru’s great power.

Clever idea. Would have worked if there weren’t two giant water elementals living in the water that were poised to simply attack anything passing over the water. Attack HARD. Qatana and I retreated hastily, but the image, of course, was unaffected and still indicated to drop the drawbridge.

And they did! So it half worked, although it was rather painful for me. Ivan did plug some with arrows, although I’m not confident that arrows can really hurt water elementals.

Character: Ivan

Ivan’s Journal for march 2018 ( Pharast 27 and 28 4713)

Leave a reply

The Marley’s were dead to begin with, no I mean the giants were dead to begin with. I am not even exactly sure who the Marley’s are it must be from a story Abby read to me when we were growing up.

From the talents and mastery of Zosimus the giants have been transformed into something amazing. He is no Roger bacon but Zosimus appears to on his way to possible one of the greatest alchemist or as Abby called them khemeias. Actually I don’t know if Mr. Bacon was even a good alchemist, I really only remember his name because its bacon.

I don’t really understand what is really happening to Kali but she seems just as annoying as before so I guess this new woman inside her may be ok. At this time I don’t feel like the gods want me to interfere. Mending to the rescue to repair her robe so we can wrap her in it and place her in a bag of holding. I wonder how she came to be on this wall. What about her family, does she have people that are worried about her? Because of the carvings I worry about the horrors she might share with Kali, hopefully she won’t share those thoughts.

The walls here are somewhat creepy, the carvings show how little the Oni thing of the human races. I suspect that the countless bodies on the walls cover even more of the Oni’s depraved cravings. It is good that Eytane and Anavaru did not have to see this, they have already been tortured enough. It remains unclear how much this will affect others. I fear that Kali may be the one most affected. Luckily the gods have provided Kusatsu Yuka as a guide to help Kali find her way.

A returning hobgoblin scouting party caused the others to scrabble to catch them before they could escape, I am glad that I stayed with Redella to secure the ladder as from what I heard Kali was casting spells that made range combat useless. After a number of spells Dasi’s tricked the hobgoblin into thinking that Dasi is his superior. That is a very cool and very scary skill.

After resting to regain strength and spells we are heading over to the house the bird found. Kali would be upset if she knew how often I have had the bird in my sights, she is a target until I know it is really her. After our experience with those birds it is clear that black birds pose a danger. I sure hope there darkvision wand doesn’t run out before we kill the Oni.

The battle with the shogun was an opportunity to test our metal in battle. Clearly the sight of Omlas changed the tide of battle as the shogun committed suicide rather than attempting to flee or to pull victory from the jaws of defeat. Well that’s likely what the sword of doom thinks. The shogun’s wife’s showed more tenacity and spirit then he did, I can’t imagine why they put up with such a spineless leader.  To make things worse all of the bows they have are too hard for me to pull, I guess maybe put adaptive on one of them. Maybe Dasi has the strength to use one of these bows and I can get my backup bow back from him, although it might make since to make it magical for him.

I have been careless in my commitment. With worrying about how the carvings were affecting everyone and the amazing feat of alchemy I completely forgot to check in with Ameiko. Now I have to worry about it all day.

Character: Kali

Kali’s Journal, Pharast 27 – 28, 4713

Leave a reply

Pharast 27, 4713 (afternoon, below the House of Withered Blossoms)

How long has this dungeon been here? What was its purpose? How long did it take to build it? Those questions are on my mind for some reason. Probably because it feels like we’ve just gotten started here. We travel farther and farther down this road and there’s just … more road.

All the excavation suggests a level of boredom that I can only begin to imagine. When you are held prisoner for eternity, though, I suppose the biggest challenge is occupying your time. The Five Storms’ solution was, apparently, to dig a big hole in the floor and just keep going. The Kami said they swore an oath to hold the oni prisoner here, but we don’t really know how long ago that was. Hundreds of years? Thousands? Longer? I suppose we should have asked, though I guess it doesn’t really matter. It was clearly a long time. Even with spells, all this could not have been done quickly.

Assuming, of course, that this was the work of the Five Storms. We don’t really know for sure. A more troubling answer is that it was just Munasukaru. I mean, if boredom was a problem for the oni before, imagine what it must be like for just one of them now. Abandoned by her peers, left with only hobgoblins and hill giants for company. Trapped here, unable to leave. That can’t be healthy, can it?

How long ago was their escape? Again, the Kami didn’t say (and, again, should have asked…) but we can do some math. The letter from Rokuro was written over 25 years ago; he and his family fled Minkai 30-some years before that. The Five Storms’ plans for Minkai didn’t unfold over night, so figure two or three generations as a starting point. That means Munasukaru has been a placeholder here for at least a century. Maybe even longer.

The hall where we were ambushed was filled with images of … disgusting acts. The oni chose a life of flesh and blood so that they could indulge in the pleasures of the former while spilling the latter. The carvings in that hall suggested a depravity and imagination in both that goes far beyond the worst of humanity. And those were just the carvings. What they did with the bodies of the men and women they had captured…

And what of the hobgoblins? I don’t know how or why they fit in, but they are here and they are a part of it. I just want to make that clear. All of this is on them, too.

We turned the tables on that ambush. Obviously. And I think we did it without spreading the alarm any further. So we have a reprieve for now.

The hobgoblins had enlisted the help of a pair of hill giants. That would normally be a problem but they succumbed to Qatana’s aura and turned on each other. I trapped them behind an invisible wall of force, and there they raged, beating on it and each other until one of their heads bloomed in crimson. We dropped the survivor when I dropped the wall.

Sometimes I think I am kidding myself.

(HouDarWhereABlossmwWhosThr)

I have two lives and two names and two histories but it’s not clear which are from me now and me before. I came into the Forest with companions that have never met yet we were all traveling together so that seems wrong somehow because we were always together and we spent a long and bitter cold winter crossing the ice in darkness where there were just plains, tundra and forest.

I remember growing up in Minkai and now I am returning there, a country I’ve never seen and only know from stories and memories. We traveled when I was a child growing up here and in Avistan so that makes sense but I haven’t spoken to my parents in so long that they must be worried I am lost or have died and I know they are worried because just last week they said so but that was not me it was me.

I know it wasn’t me because I remember dying here I felt my bones breaking and the darkness swallow me and I saw my body hung on a wall along the balcony where I was standing with my friends the ones that didn’t come with me before I died but came with me after. It is an odd thing to see yourself alive and dead and that too seems wrong because how can I be both? I cried out in anguish through her or was that through me? I helped take myself down from the wall and wrap myself in burial robes and that’s how I know I died and I know who killed me I know her name and I know what I have to do even if I don’t survive it. I didn’t choose to be here but I came here with a purpose and now there is another though they are the same except for why.

(evening, House of Withered Blossoms)

Yuka is still here. I can hear her at times, sometimes even see her. Or see myself as though I was her. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like there are moments when I don’t recognize myself, only sometimes it’s me as me, and others it’s me as her.

I … feel what she is feeling. I know what she wants and why. We can … communicate in a way. It’s not like talking, though sometimes I can hear her voice. It’s mostly … intent. And I can’t exactly ask her—myself?—questions, but when I have a question about something she knows I have memories that answer them. Her memories. My memories?

She wants us to kill Munasukaru. There is a burning intensity behind that. We were already on board with this plan, of course, and that seems to have satisfied her for now, and I no longer have the relentless whispering, begging, pleading. But she is still there, still speaking to me without speaking in a voice that isn’t mine.

She’s not hostile. It’s more like she’s … desperate, grieving, longing … all of these things. I can hear her now as I write this because I’ve opened myself up to her. She’s trapped here, bound by the unfairness of her death and the hatred it was borne from, much like a ghost only without the mindless, formless rage. (I want to say she’s lucky in that respect but that would be a callous dismissal, as though one would be “lucky” to lose only one arm instead of both.)

I don’t mind. Truth be told, I was curious. And maybe a little jealous. I remember Sandru around the fire and I guess I wanted that experience, too. It’s childish of me, and selfish, and … probably wrong because of why. I thought we made a mistake by expelling that spirit, but now I am less certain. I can feel her again as I write this out. It’s not right that these spirits are tied to the material world. They need to move on.

But, it also wouldn’t be right to forcibly expel Yuka, either. She needs help moving on, and that means doing this the right way: seeing it through to the end. If I am the vessel for that, then so be it.

We are holing up in the hall of pillars for the night because we need the rest. It’s possible we’ll get interrupted again, but there’s no better place so we’ll just take our chances with the next change of the guard.

I said “again”. I sent Nihali up to tell the prisoners we freed that we’re spending the night. So they wouldn’t panic and do something stupid. She returned almost immediately because a small group of hobgoblins had come down the flue, seen the battle scene we’d staged, then turned around and left they way they came. We were worried they might take their chances exploring the pagoda. If they found the prisoners we’d freed …

So we raced after them. They were setting up a magical rope to clear the smooth walls of the shaft where the stairs ended.

This answered the question of how the hobgoblins managed to come and go so easily. It also gave me an idea, and I conjured a storm of sleet and ice where they stood, extending it up to the top of the bore. I figured this would at least slow them down. If I got really lucky they’d slip and fall to their deaths.

I got really lucky. Two of the four did exactly that as soon as the ice enveloped them. The third needed a little encouragement from Zosimus, but then he, too, plummeted off the ledge. The fourth stubbornly refused to cooperate, however, and Olmas had to deal with him personally.

I actually saved the third one by stopping his fall. It occurred to me it’d be easier to interrogate him if he was still alive. Don’t judge me. It was one of my simplest spells. I could afford to splurge.

Pharast 28, 4713 (morning, beneath the House of Withered Blossoms)

I had strange dreams last night. They were fragments of our memories jumbled together into an incoherent, shifting narrative. That’s not much different from dreams in general, of course, but it felt like we were I was trying to make sense of two, conflicting histories.

There were moments of clarity; scenes from our lives that stood out in sharp focus. These are the only parts of my dreams that I remember well, though even they were incomplete. I know, for example, that Yuka was a monk and I saw the dojo where she was trained, but I don’t have a sense for when or where she lived. Similarly, there were memories of me in Niswan as a young girl, an older me studying in Magnimar, and so on, but they were all disconnected from my past somehow, like ships adrift at sea. It’s hard to explain.

As I sifted through these vignettes, though, it occurred to me that I still didn’t know what Munasukaru looked like. That’s when another of Yuka’s memories came to me. An elderly Tian woman with wrinkled skin was looking down at me—at her—and smiling, only it wasn’t out of kindness: it was the satisfaction that comes from toying with your prey. Her form shifted then, stretching and elongating, her skin reddening, as monstrous features emerged. When it stopped, she resembled the hobgoblins that served her. I was looking at a kind of oni we hadn’t seen before.

This explains a lot. The prisoners we rescued said the hobgoblins both worshipped and feared her, and this is almost certainly why: to them she must look like some sort of god, and from what we know of the oni I doubt Munasukaru would correct the error (much like Kikonu and his corbies, only I am having trouble picturing her as a budding playwright). It suggests we may encounter more fervant devotees than just the soldiers and guards we’ve seen so far.

We’re told there are lower levels to this dungeon, and if she holds to convention she’s probably at the very bottom. Why does everyone do that? What is this fascination with burying yourself underground? Kikonu may have been unhinged, but at least he chose to live on the top floor. (Though maybe Munasukaru’s war with the aranea left her with few options.)

Zosi spent the morning fiddling with his alchemy equipment. It was fascinating to watch, though more than a little unnerving when he stuck a giant needle in one of the hill giant corpses and it stood up. Animating the dead is a sure-fire way to get our collective attention. Both Qatana and I watched with trepidation, but there was no necromancy involved and what he created wasn’t undead. He’d made a sort of construct, powered through alchemy.

Though it was still pretty creepy.

(later)

The Swine Shogun was kind of a let-down. I don’t think I’m ever going to see a hobgoblin riding a pig.

Character: Qatana

Qatana’s Journal for Pharast 27 – 28, 4713

Leave a reply

Wealday, Pharast 27, 4713 afternoon
Beneath the House of Withered Blossoms

After slaying the surviving giant we opened the north door upon the balcony and entered another hallway. This too had mutilated human bodies spiked to the walls.

“But why would anyone do this?” Huffy asked in a plaintive squeak.

Beorn gave a chirp of derision, “Don’t be naive. You know why: because they enjoy it.”

A recent addition — the body of a monk — hung on the far wall, and as we entered we heard the sound of creaking bones. A shimmering ghostly form of a spirit drifted away from the body and towards us.

Much like the spirits we had encountered in the forest this one did not appear to be a typical undead ghost or wraith, but none the less we had no desire to be possessed by the thing.

But it was too quick and we too slow, and it melded with Kali, who sank to her knees, crying out in an eerily hollow voice, “You must help, you must help! You must avenge my killer!”

Olmas asked, “Who was your killer?”, to which Kali replied, “Munasukaru!”

The Oni. We could have guessed. Having made its demands the monk remained joined with Kali, probably to see its final request through to the end. But it was not hostile, and Kali found that she could communicate with it, and that she had gained some of its knowledge and abilities.

She found that its… his name was Kusatsu Yuka.

The southern door led to another hall, and beyond we found a dark, vast open space. Kali sent Nihali off to scout it out, and she returned to report that there was a hobgoblin village nearby and a large stone building building further in.

We decided to rest before facing the cavern, and so secured the two doors in the balcony hall, and Kali sent Nihali out once again to check on the rescued humans above.

The raven soon returned and reported that additional hobgoblins had entered the pagoda. Fearing that they would find the humans we had rescued, we made our way back up to ground level, leaving Radella and Ivan to secure our camp.

The rest of us found the hobgobs, whom tried to flee, but three died very swiftly, and the third we captured alive and questioned. He proved to be quite informative after we convinced him that we worked for Munasukaru.

“She be great! I never seen her, but I knows of her greatitude. I good servant. We sent out to patrol and capture more slaves (never enough slaves, which make good sport and good eating). We clever squad and encounter many humans who attack. I kill at least fifty all by myselfs. Companions not so mighty as I and they die in attack. I faithful servant of Munasukaru.”

Convinced that he would soon be rewarded for he service he accepted a prolonged drink of saki from the everlasting decanter — a good long draught that lasted until he passed out. Ivan drew the short straw and got to slit his throat. After what we had seen below there was no talk or suggestion of any action more merciful than that.

While we waited for the hobgob to drink himself into oblivion we took what little he and his companions had been carrying.

533 rope of climbing
534 4 masterwork armor
535 4 wooden shields
536 4 masterwork composite longbows (+3 STR)
537 4 masterwork Morningstars
538 13 arrows

Presently we returned to the balcony hall and found that Ivan and Radella had been busy. They had discovered that the hobgoblin village was in a large crevasse below our level, accessible by a wooden ladder, which they had pulled up.

Oathday, Pharast 28, 4713 morning
Beneath the House of Withered Blossoms

The night passed without interruption. We only require couple of hours a sleep per day, but no one can be alert for all of their waking hours, and so the length of a watch is only two to three hours. This leaves each of us with plenty of time to work on other things.

Early this morning Zos quietly moved over to one of the giant corpses, which we had piled against the southern door to hold it shut. Out came his little case of vials and smelly chemicals and he softly hummed or murmured to himself as he mixed some concoction. He then took needle and thread and stitched together the gash in the giant’s head.

This got my attention and I came over to watch more closely. He injected the now sutured giant body with his chemical cocktail. After a moment or two it opened its eyes and then slowly sat up.

This garnered some concern among my companions, but I had watched Zos during this entire operation. He had performed no magic nor had he used any negative energy to revive the fallen giant.

“So you didn’t use any spells?” I asked.

“Correct.” Zos replied, as he looked admiringly at the dull eyed thing now standing before him.

“And you did not use any negative energy?” I prompted.

Zos quickly answered, “None at all. This is an alchemical construct.”

I recalled a conversation I had a few years earlier, back when I was still an acolyte of Pharasma. Father Jivorus was the head of the Church of Pharasma in Magnimar, and I had asked about the spell Animate Dead.

“Undead are abominations not only because they are created from negative energy, but the souls of the dead are judged by Pharasma and her alone. Souls of the undead are kept from the Gray Lady, and that is blasphemous.”

“Yes,” I had countered, “but Animate Dead does not use negative energy, and surely the souls of the already dead have long since gone to Pharasma.”

Father Jivorus stopped walking and turned to me, “There are some who think that fragments of the soul are called back and forced to inhabit their animated bodies. Would you dare take that risk?”

I replied much more slowly this time, “N-no.” But I was unconvinced. While not a cantrip, Animate Dead was also not a very advanced spell. It seemed unlikely to me that casting it released the power needed to splinter the soul of the departed — one whom had been sent by Pharasma to its final resting place — and bind it to dead tissue. And what of the souls consumed by Groetus? Would their bodies not animate because their souls no longer existed? This restriction seemed arbitrary.

But then another thought sprang to mind. “So if we cannot cast Animate Dead even on the corpses of animals, it must mean that they too have souls, right?”

Father Jivorus had sighed and shook his head, but said no more about it.

It seemed clear to me then just as it did now that a lumbering mindless body was no more undead than any mechanical construct, like a golem. There had to be more to undead then that.

I looked at Zos, who was now busy working over the second giant, and said “Cool.”

Olmas looked questioningly at me, but I simply said, “Relax, he is not creating undead.”

Later we were ready to head out into the cavern, but we would bypass the village and head straight for the more distant, large stone structure. Fly and Airwalk spells were cast and we flitted into the darkness. Zos’ two giant servants were left behind to provide support if we needed to make a desperate retreat.

As we flew out I caught the glimmer of firelight off to the left, and heading Beorn’s advice of, “We should check that out,” I veered over to see a camp fire burning in a smaller cavern, with hobgoblins busily performing various domestic acts.

Timber made a rude noise and remarked, “That was so worth the effort, Beorn.” I shushed him and flew back to the others as a large stone building came into view.

It towered all of the way from the floor to almost touching the ceiling: a height of nearly two hundred feet. A narrow stone bridge connected the top most floor of the tower to a shelf several hundred feet to the north. The sound of a distant waterfall filled the air.

We landed on the building and found that it was nearly a ruin, with holes in the wooden roof and missing stones in the walls. Dasi hovered above the roof and concentrated as he stared down.

“I sense ten minds below,” he said, “all of them of about average intelligence.”

This put ten foes somewhere within sixty feet of where we stood. We thought there were different floors below, with a few hobgobs on each level. As such we thought a slow and stealthy advance downward was the best approach.

We thought wrong.

Radella silently crept down the spiral staircase into a tall and large chamber, where a group of hobgoblins were standing or sitting or laying around. She signalled back to Olmas and and I, who were following, to be silent and cautious.

All of us were floating in the air, and so moving quietly seemed like an easy thing. Until Olmas scraped his armor against the stone wall on the way down.

Up jumped the hobgoblin guards, suddenly at full alert and looking up at the open staircase where Olmas looked sheepishly down at them. Up jumped an enormously fat hobgoblin, who had been laying on a bed along with a foursome of what I assumed were female hobgoblins, “What’s going on!?”

I swooped down and placed a wall of stone isolating the fat one and his harem from his guards. The rest of my companions flew in and we all attacked.

Combat was fierce but not prolonged, and even the “Swine Samurai” fell quickly before us. Actually the pudgy pig prodder yelled out “Munasukaru, I know you are watching! For your glory!” before ingloriously sticking himself with his own knife.

This left the harem on the other side of the wall to deal with, and Olmas and a spiritual ally I had created earlier finished the task.

Ivan had moved over to the stairs and looked down to make sure nothing below would climb up and attack us. He nearly stumbled down the steps from the stench wafting up. The chamber was filled with animal pens and a pair of giants acting as keepers. We sent a large earth elemental and the spiritual ally down to attack the giants, who unbarred the main doors and fled.

I used some channels to heal the party while others picked through the corpses for items we could use.

539 +2 armor (O-yoroi)
540 +1 thundering great axe
541 dagger with gold hilt
542 masterwork composite longbow (+4 STR)
543 20 arrows
544 +4 belt of Giant Strength (Qatana)
545 +1 cloak of Resistance
546 +1 war hat (crest of ancient and honorable house of Minkai)
+1 luck bonus to AC, can negate critical hit or sneak attack 1/day
547 bronze rice bowl
548 carved horned box with 6 spinels
549 carved horn drinking cup
550 6 masterwork morningstars
551 6 masterwork composite longbow (+3 STR)
552 6 masterwork armor (do-maru)
553 6 masterwork wooden shields
554 32 arrows
47 gold pieces

I was delighted to find something I could actually use, and glady donned the belt of giant strength. Star practically purred with enthusiasm.

We carefully crossed the bridge over to a stone shelf from which the walkway plunged into a rock tunnel that steeply descended the full two hundred feet down to the cavern floor via cracked and slippery steps.

The bottom of the cavern was a smooth large rock shelf above a subterranean river. To the left a huge waterfall thundered down from above, crashing onto rocks and collecting into a pool from which the river flowed. The sound of the cataract filled the air, and we had to lean into to one another and talk loudly just to be heard.

On the far side of the river was a stout stone keep, and as we approached we could dimly see hobgoblins watching us from the battlements. A drawbridge provided access to the keep from our side of the river, but of course it was raised.

Kali created an image of Munasukaru (courtesy of Kusatsu Yuka) and we pretended to converse with her. Here the deafening roar of the falls worked to our favor, for Kali did not know what Munasukaru sounded like, and the anxious hobgobs would not expect to hear her above the noise.

Olmas and I accompanied our friendly image of Munasukaru across the river to see if we could lower the drawbridge, but a pair of gigantic water elementals rose up and beat the snot out of Olmas before he could retreat to the near shore.

I managed to escape by shooting upward, and the image of Munasukaru rose with me. She then moved toward the hobgoblins with her eyes flaming an angry red and indicated that they had better lower the drawbridge or else.

One of the frightened guards saluted and ran down to lower the drawbridge. I nodded at Munasukaru and drifted down to the rest of my comrades to cross over the drawbridge. The elementals sunk back into the river, but I think we should take the river crossing at a run to be safe.

Character: Ivan

Ivan Feb Journal

Leave a reply

The door opened into a strange room with dividers creating hallways. I would have blindly walked into the trap but not for the skill and experience of Redella. We have been traveling together all this time and yet I do not know much about her. I have always assumed that she did not want to share private information about herself.  The room was pretty easy for me as I just had to watch Radella, Olmas, and Qatana take out these creatures, I just had to guard Radella’s back. The two prisoners we rescued were at first afraid that we were there to harm them. We had the discussion about getting the two of them safety but it was pointed out that there is no safe place nearby, in the end they finally realized that they would be safest right there, we could have set them free in the woods but I don’t think they would have much of a chance to survive.  We still need to figure out what to do with these people once we get out of here, the kami may or may not allow them to enter the grove.

Finally we are on the ground floor and still more webs but we did find the way out through the front door and a way down. Well its looks like we need to go down into the deep dark hole.  The others could have defeated the spider things without my help. Once again Kali has to be the one to scout so we wait.

Kali returned and began working on a complex plan to get through the gate of the fortress. Kali just loves to make complex plans even when one is not needed. I got bored with the complexity so I just spaced out for a few moments to allow them to finish, they seem a lot happier if I just let them get it all out. My idea is simple just create a new doorway.

The hobgoblins assault was over quickly. Without the protection of their walls Radella, Olmas, and Qatana quickly cut them down. It comes down to the cycle of life, these hobgoblins now become food for other creatures. The humans outside on the pikes would have shared the same fate had Qatana not spared their lives.   Very interesting, Desna clearly had a hand in this.   They took these two up to be with the others, safety in numbers or something like that. I just wonder what my companions will do if the Kami do not allow these people into the grove.

The door that leads into the complex looked dangerous with traps on the floors and dead bodies hanging from the walls. Radella, Olmas, and Qatana entered this hallway of death and began the slow process of detecting and avoiding the traps in the room. For my part I attempted to cover them from the doorway but from my vantage point I failed to see the ambush. As they reached the other side of the room hobgoblins began the attack with arrows on the three in the room. Quick thinking on Olmas’s part and the locked door on the other side of the room was busted wide open by the power of the ring of the ram. For not being a spell caster Olmas has quite a few spells at his disposal. I have to give credit to Olmas for being able to put up with the sword day in and day out. Some of the special abilities of the team shined as they had hobgoblins confused and attacking each other. This was pretty awsome to witness, giant kill giant was the best of the enemy on enemy combat. I do worry about this being used on us at some point in the future, hopefully one of the gods will provide me with to help my companions.

The battle was interesting as Kali used a special ability to perform a mini teleport to take me and her through the now busted door, plenty of hobgoblins targets. I failed to see the giants until one of them hit me with a rock or should I say boulder. Before I could react Kali had a wall of force up. Damn it really sucks that I don’t have the mini teleport or wall of force spells.

Character: Dasi
Character: Olmas

Annals of the Order of the Dragon

Leave a reply

as written by the cavalier Olmas Lurecia, himself.

Wealday, 27 Pharast

Qatana and I went down what we believed to now be the unguarded spiral staircase. Dasi and Zos came with us, while the rest planned to enter by one of the grates.

Radella apparently found their way blocked by traps (which she successfully disarmed) while our way seemed free of such. (Which was good, since we were searching for them largely the old-fashioned way – by looking intently and whispering “TRAP!” when one was triggered.) It seemed maybe the architect of this place was more worried about attack from below than above.

We hadn’t gotten far, though, when Qatana found another of the organ-visible skeletons. Unknown to us at the time, Radella et al had found another as well. Our parties came together just as we made these discoveries and between us, we handily dispatched the creatures. One had some sort of prehensile tongue that snaked out at me and Dasi warned “don’t let it touch you!” He seemed to know something of these creatures.

We returned to the prisoners, both now conscious thanks to Qatana’s healing. They’d been lost in the forest, and had been captured by the aranea and brought here – probably eventually as food. They told us of nobles ransacking villages in Minkai – that’s why they had fled to the forest. They were also able to tell us there were troglodytes and hobgoblins in the pit below us.

We used our wand of CLW on them to bring them back to full, at least physically. I think I caught that their names were Junzo and Udtsetseg. Anyway, we armed them with some of the simple weapons lying around and told them to wait for us, as there was more we needed to do down below. I don’t know if they’ll still be there when we return, but we’ve done the best we could for them. We renewed our dark vision and proceeded to the pit.

As we descended, we encountered more webs, but apparently the aranea or spiders that created them had already been killed. Radella, as always, was trap-alert and found and disarmed one on our way down. Eventually we reached the aforementioned pit.

It’s hard to say how much of this was constructed and how much was natural. Clearly the stairs carved into the rock were not natural, but how much renovation continued below us remained to be seen. But we did run into some more spider-creatures which, while not terribly difficult to kill, were persistent and tenacious, as well as annoying magic users.

Having cleared them out, we could see the pit more clearly now, and with parts of it being quite smooth, it seemed that there may have been quite a bit of engineering involved. I doubt this was part of the original design for the “oni prison house.” Air rising from the hole was warm and fragrant in a bad, sweaty, dirty sort of way.

We carefully and quietly descended and found ourselves looking at an underground fortress. Maybe this HAD been where the oni had been kept. It stretched from wall to wall in this underground chamber, and was fortified as well as any city wall. There were guards patrolling and, to our horror, there appeared to be two humans impaled upon the obvious front doors. We quickly devised a plan.

It was apparent that the only surprise we could offer would be an overwhelming assault. Nothing tricky or clever was going to get us past the archers and massive front doors. The clear area in front of the entrance was an obvious kill zone; anything entering there needed to be prepared for an onslaught of archers and maybe worse. So the plan became:

1) summon an earth elemental to assault the front door
2) Have Qatana stoneshape an opening in the parapets while that was happening
3) Haste all
4) Bring in our more mobile strike force via that means
5) Hope for the best.

This plan proved fluid in its execution, and involved all of us eventually flying up to the opening in the parapet, an illusion of Akinosa scaling the outer wall, and the earth elemental giving his all in destroying the front entrance. But we eventually found ourselves inside, the guards dead, and probably a small amount of time until the next shift discovered the previous shift was dead. We collected

[516-519] Cure Serious Wounds

from the bodies of the guards, and turned our attention to the impalees. They were alive but unconscious, but a little healing made them more comfortable and able to answer our questions. There were apparently more inside, held as slaves, and something or somebody else they greatly feared.

Well, in it was, then. We had a bonsai to rescue.

We collected

[520] MW armor (4)
[521] MW shield (wooden) (4)
[522] MW composite long bows +3 (4)
[523] MW morningstars (4)
[523] many arrows

and started our incursion. Two doors to the north led to two kill rooms. Their only purpose was to lure uninformed visitors (such as we) into rooms with no exits and lots of whirling blades. The impalees had said that the hobgoblins never used those rooms and now we knew why. We approached the eastern door apprehensively.

We (Qatana, Radella, and myself) entered this room to find a torture chamber. No living creatures were here, but there was evidence there had been. Radella found several pit-traps, however, making this room seem unnaturally dangerous even for a torture chamber.

And then from behind the walls, something said “Fire”. And arrows came flying through holes in the wall, striking all three of us.
The Ring of the Ram burst through the door at the end of the room and allowed me access to the archers. Qatana cast one of her magics that make people behave strangely – and thankfully, many of them did. Two giants started hurling rocks from a mezzanine above us, but Kali installed a wall of force that thwarted that and also kept them from joining the fray.

It was chaotic for a bit, but when the dust cleared we again had dead hobgoblins and now dead giants to add to our resume. And a few arrow holes in several of us, but nothing a little healing wouldn’t take care of.

Character: Kali

Kali’s Journal, Pharast 27, 4713

Leave a reply

Pharast 27, 4713 (midmorning, House of Withered Blossoms)

We’ve rescued two people who were being held prisoner here. The aranea placed them in iron cages and left them hanging inside a maze of lacquered screens, guarded—or perhaps tormented—by pairs of mohrgs.

Mohrgs. What kind of arrangement Akinosa had with these creatures is anyone’s guess. They are foul things: intelligent, malevolent undead that exist only to kill the living, much as they did in life. Maybe asking what kind of bargain was struck is the wrong question. A better one would be, what kind of person would agree to one? This, I believe, says all there is to be said about the aranea, or at least this little clutter of them. I think back to earlier, how we tried to parley with them, to avoid killing them just because they were here and an inconvenience, and it makes me sick. What if we had come to some agreement? What if we had allied with them against the oni down below? Would we have learned what was happening here? What would that say about us?

It reminds me of Zaiobe. I mean, the parallels are pretty obvious, right? Only we did strike a bargain with her, and look how it turned out.

It’s tempting to compromise on principles out of necessity—or worse, desperation—but the thing is, the enemy of my enemy may just be my enemy. What I’ve learned is that you don’t casually form alliances of convenience; that there are consequences and repercussions to willful ignorance. Even if your life depends on it. What is the point in living if you can’t live with your decisions?

One of the freed captives, Junzo, says they were ambushed on the main road several weeks ago. The two of them escaped into the forest and quickly became lost, and it was the aranea that found them. They were captured and have been held here ever since. To what aim? We’ll never know. Probably for food, though I suppose another explanation would be for entertainment. Assuming that human suffering is what passed for entertainment among the aranea. I am sure that is a safe bet.

They were able to confirm that Akinosa really was fighting the hobgoblins for control of the House. The war has raged for years, apparently, and has recently been stuck in a kind of stalemate. Given their elaborate setup and meager numbers, I imagine the aranea were relying on deterrence more than anything else. I’d be shocked if they were doing much more than picking off the occasional hobgoblin that came and went.

Given what we’ve learned, though, I am kind of surprised this has gone on so long. Maybe the hobgoblins lack the numbers to cross the threshold (and more importantly, to hold it afterwards). Maybe the status quo has been the status quo for so long that no one thinks it can change. Or, maybe they just don’t know the sad state to which Akinosa’s opium-addicted army had fallen.

(late morning)

There were so many traps on the lower floors that it was faster and easier to just set them off as we went. It’s a little more clear how the hobgoblins were being kept at bay: the aranea turned the ascent into a withering gauntlet of poison, murder holes, and flying blades. The hobgoblins apparently lacked either the means or the imagination for something other than a frontal assault, and a frontal assault would have been deadly.

Unfortunately, our talent and imagination are only going to get us so far with the complex down below. There’s only one way in and that’s through the front doors. Which is, I suppose, the big advantage of subterranean living: if guests come calling, you pretty much know where they are going to be.

I hate going in through the front door. We’ve done it a couple of times and it’s always kicking a hornets’ nest. These things go much better when we can be discreet.

Worse, these are hobgoblins which means this is going to be a grind. Assuming we don’t end up facing the entire army all at once—that is not a given—they’ll contest every inch of ground. And we can’t just burn the place out like we did here: we’re supposed to be rescuing a bonsai tree—I am not making that up—and learning what we can about the Five Storms. And, I guess it would be nice to be able to breathe, too.

I got a good look at where we are headed and it’s a gods-be-damned fortress. They built an actual stone wall complete with battlements in that cavern, from floor to ceiling (I guess they took this war with the aranea pretty seriously). I was staring up at Brinewall all over again, only, you know, there was no sky. So, we just have to get through that. Without raising an alarm. Of course, we’re a lot more capable than we were back then, too, so we have some ideas.

Normally we’d take the time to plan this out more carefully, but there is some urgency. It looked like they had two human or humanoid people stuck to the front gate. I don’t know if they were impaled or tied or hung or what, but at least one of them may be alive. We’re taking just a few minutes to get organized and then we go. Yes, perhaps it’s a bit reckless, but we’re motivated by the novelty of saving lives instead of just taking them.

OK. We’re going.

(afternoon)

We were right about the people I saw. Two Tian men had been impaled on spikes set into the gate and they were barely clinging to life. Every time I think I have seen the worst thing there is to see, something even more horrible comes along. Like there’s some sort of award for it. This wasn’t a unique event, either. It’s something the hobgoblins do regularly here, having mastered the grotesque art of spiking people without killing them outright.

Once Qatana had healed them up it was time for the interrogation, being the kind and compassionate people that we are. This started out okay—It’s how we learned that there are (or, perhaps, were) others here who were captured in the forest and forced to work before turned into door hangings—but it fell apart shortly after. They said one of the doors leads to “her domain”, so naturally we asked who “her” was. That’s when the panic swelled in both of them; to the point where I thought they might die of fright, right in front of us. They were terrified—petrified—and refused to speak her name, or of anything else.

We let Dasi talk to them, alone, and he was able to calm them down. I don’t know how. But whatever he said, it obviously worked. They said she’s a demon called Munasukaru, and the hobgoblins both fear and worship her. She lives somewhere below, at the bottom of a bottomless pit or something. Obviously the details there are a bit sketchy, and, um, probably of questionable accuracy.

This level is ruled by one called Buto, who—and I swear I am also not making this up—calls himself “The Swine Shogun”. He also—and I swear I am not making this up, either—rides around on a giant pig.  I have got to see that for myself. How can you pass up a sight like that?

We shouldn’t have any trouble finding him as we were given clear directions: first, we go through the Torture Chamber to the Hall of Pillars, which will take us to The Agonies that is just above The Great Ledge. Seriously. I swear I am not making any of those up, either.

Good gods. Who comes up with these names?

Character: Zosimus

Magnum Opus: Volume 8, Chapter 2

Leave a reply

Welcome student to the next lesson in your journey to Alchemical Mastery.  In prior lessons you have been introduced to a variety of amazing experiments and formulae that I have generously shared with you. In this lesson we revisit the philosophical foundation for your pursuit of the mystical power that alchemy shall afford you.  Alchemy, at its core, is the power for transformation!  This is no easy feat, if it was then every wizard with a flask and fire would be able to do what we can… but they cannot.  We harness what is to make our surroundings better.  Sometimes that is delivered through augmentation, sometimes through subtraction. And yes yes, sometimes it is the turn everything to gold trick, which I will not share with you until you are far more advanced; perhaps more advanced than you can truly attain. That, remains to be seen.

An adequate alchemist will spend their life replicating what has been done for generations and take no risks. Their transformations merely mimic the work of others. If such mundane pursuits tickle your fancy then please throw this and any other volumes of my works you may have on the nearest fire because you are as oblivious to the potential of your studies as adventurers are to arrow slits in a kill box when distracted by lustful murals.  The difference being those adventurers have something more to live for, where you when you abandon your studies, hold no more value than a rock to a confused hill giant behind a wall of force. But I digress….

Augmentation is often sought because in some way it motivates others to do your bidding. Make them stronger, prettier, or some such and they will pay good coin.  Again you can chase such paltry sums and insult the work of alchemists before you; or instead you can pursue elixirs that can sustain the talents of those you come to rely on.  When they grow weary, you can revitalize them. When they cause unnecessary damage to their fleshy frames, you can mend their ills and restore a brute to brutish working order. Restoring to prior states of being merely undoes entropy and are the accomplishments of lesser persons; as an Alchemist you can instead look to extends those around you past their own endurance. You can empower them to heights they could not accomplish through their own training and natural limitations. By understanding the essential components of their being that serve as the fundament of their abilities, one can increase their efficacy by enhancing those primal reserves.

Consider for a moment that not all  transformations need be ephemeral. Matter can be reused regardless of its nature, organic or inorganic. That which was once animated by the soul can be re-mobilized by alchemy.  Large or small, such reanimation can server a variety of uses limited only by your imagination and, unfortunately, the moral code of those who do not grasp the complicated process you enacted to reuse the organic material that would otherwise be next destined for worm food. Be mindful that such transformation can easily be mistaken by the feeble minded for necromancy but stand fast in your knowledge that what you accomplish is no simply dark magic cantrip.  You introduce no negative energy nor dark divine providence into your constructs.  When their witless perception of the world screams Zombie in their lizard brain, you need to train them to think Golem.  It is a slow, tedious process, but worthy of reducing anxiety in those around you.

With this lesson delivered, I shall not impart to you the procedure for transforming intact organic materials into semi-organic golem constructs…