Category Archives: Return of the Runelords

The Return of the Runelords adventure path.

Thassilonian Leftovers – Jigu’s stories

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As interesting as I found the whole Thassilonian saga that unfolded in the last decade or so, as fascinated as I was by the history and the language itself, and as much as I might imagine the adventures the Sandpoint heroes had .. I never thought I’d be even remotely involved in anything Thassilonian. And yet … here I am. We apparently have found ourselves looking for some sort of Thassilonian artifact which has been described, but never actually found.

Moonday, 4 Sarenith

We returned from Roderic’s Wreck with a some vivid memories, a few valuable items, and a healthy respect for how many things out here could kill us. I found my interest in the Runelords strangely sharpened, but also dimmed when confronted by real effects in present day.

While making my usual Moonday delivery rounds, I chanced to pass through the doors of the weapon vendor Lindwin, while he was in fairly subdued discussion with a pair of dwarves. It started to rise in volume and, being me, I stepped up and asked if there wasn’t something I could do to help? They both looked briefly embarrassed but then Lindwin explained that the dwarves were having trouble delivering product to him. A dwarf quickly interrupted and proclaimed the REAL problem was, literally, highway robbery.

Their wagon apparently has to pass through the Churlwood. This has never proven particularly hazardous before, but just two days ago their driver and an assistant had been taken. They’s managed to keep the wagon, but their companions had been kidnapped. By goblns, no less! They said it was the Bramble-something .. I didn’t catch the name … some tribe of goblins which have been mostly harmless until now. I considered all that was going on and carefully said, “I am familiar with some people who may be able to help. Let me get back to you.” The dwarves looked at me – a halfling – like I was insane but Lindwin held up his hand before they could say anything. “We would be pleased if you know of people who can help. Churlwood being outside the city, the guard is less than interested in this.” I nodded and went to find the rest of the group.

I returned to the group and together we chatted with the leader of the guard. Turns out, this wasn’t the first the guard had heard of these Churlwood issues, and while the kidnapping was new news, he’d already sent two members of the guard off to investigate.

Two members that never returned.

It would not be understating the case to say he was interested in having us look into the situation. But before we could get very far into that discussion, we were interrupted by a partially coherent resident.

“The … things .. they, the mouths! They’re melted! They … they …”

When we calmed him down, we were able to learn that some sort of figures, or monsters, or .. creatures had come out of the woods not too far away and attacked him. He was shaken enough that that was about all we got out of him, but we offered to the leader of the guard to go deal with this new and pressing issue.  He was happy to accept the help, since, well, he was already short two deputies …

Two misshapen creatures were quickly discovered, and almost as quickly dispatched. My participation was minimal, because I’d pretty much used up all my magic missiles and force missiles and, try as i might, my skills with my quarterstaff yield as much damage as a harsh look would.   I was, however, an excellent lookout.

But since nobody had seen them before now,, and nobody knew how they’d come into existence … it would be hard to say this area was now “safe”. Shura was able to read their tracks, however, and learned they did not come from the woods.  The last place they’d been, before here, was town.   If we’d been looking to reassure residents, this was not the way to do it.

We theorized, perhaps, this was a result of some goings-on at the Peacock House.  They were strange, and pompous, and full of themselves – exactly the sort of people who might create misshapen creatures with sharp teeth.  Well, okay, it made more sense at the time.  We decided upon the ‘ruse’ of taking a body to them and asking for their opinion on its origins, then carefully gauging their reaction.  Our plan yielded nothing but a quick glance of the inside of their house, as they asked Vlad to place the body in a small outbuilding.  Quickly, they said.  Don’t leave the door open too long, they said.  And Vlad did as asked, but swore he saw some largish, bony, spiderish, skitterish creature dash out from under a bed just as he was closing the door.  They’d do some analysis and get back to us later, they said.

i doubt it, though.

Several in the group felt an inexplicable urgency to follow up on the dwarven kidnapping, so even though I warned them I needed to rest and study my spells, the group headed to the ferry.  I rolled my eyes and went along; even without magic,  I was still one of the better armored members.   (The delivery business can be tough 🙂 )  Perhaps I could serve as a distraction if I couldn’t be a wizard or a warrior!

Well, we’d no more than crossed the ferry and there were five Roadkeepers there demanding a toll for safe passage.  To be honest, they were there waiting even before we boarded the ferry.  We tried discussing the situation rationally with them, but rationally is not a word they know how to spell.  “Lullaby” was their leader,  but she learned when all of us concentrate on one target, we can make that target bleed pretty fast.  I feared we were in for a full battle, but the sight of their companion getting beat up took all the fight out of them.  “Must have been some mistake,” said Lullaby before she and the others picked up their companion and ran off.

We continued on the path, and – well, okay, when I say “the path” I’m pushing things a bit.  The path from the ferry was neither clear nor well maintained, but Shura again was able to track the most-travelled path to take us in the direction we felt the kidnapping might have occurred.

It didn’t take too long before we reached an unusual clearing.  It was unusual in the sense that while the path had been rough and unmaintained, this clearing seemed much more orderly.  There was a dead oak tree in the middle, with a clear path all the way around it.  And another thing that made it unusual was the three apparently dead bodies near the tree, in guard uniforms.

There was also a shiny amulet hanging from a limb of the tree.  I could see it was radiating magic.

The more we looked at it, the more it looked like a trap, and the shiny thing a lure.  But a lure for what?

Then as we cautiously circled the clearing, a shambling figure emerged from behind the tree.  After a moment, somebody yelled it was a “trailgaunt” and not to cross the path.  I needed no more warning than that – again, I was largely without magic at this point.  But while the trailgaunt may have been forbidden to cross the trail, it apparently was not restricted from digging under the trail.  We yelled to each other when it tried that trick, and we were able to keep awat from it.  In the end we were finally able to kill it, but it took a while.

The shiny thing, we found was a holy symbol of Desna which afforded its wearer greater protection against mind control spells.  We resolved to come back and recover the bodies, but for now we continued to press on in search of the goblins and kidnapped dwarves.

Proceeding cautiously, we finally came upon an entrrance to a cave, outside of which were three goblins attempting to guard it.  We dispatched them fairly quickly, but then were left facing a tunnel.  With goblins inside.  Who knew we were there.

And the bad luck for everyone but me, was that the tunnel was goblin-sized … or halfling-sized.  Everyone but me would be restricted in their movements.  And I .. I would be restricted in my sight because I’m no dwarf and can’t see in the dark.

Despite those impediments, we came up with a plan that took out the 5 goblins waiting under cover in the first chamber, and when most of those were down or preoccupied, I was able to use a rock with light cast upon it to advance quickly past them and make sure there were no reinforcements coming.  However, our next challenge would be that beyond this point, the tunnel got even narrower, such that it would be tight for me and the big people would probably have to crawl.

And as if that weren’t enough, a quick scout through that tunnel revealed another chamber, with even more goblins in it.  Maybe now people will want to rest and regain strength and spells.  Maybe.

Thassilonia Revisited

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Starday, 2 Sarenith, 4718

I sipped my ale and looked around the room. Being a halfling, my view is typically blocked by, well, everybody. So long as I don’t sit in the corner of the room, there are usually seats from which I could see what was happening. Actually, when the opportunity presented itself, sitting near the corner, but listening closely, works best for finding out what is happening in town.

Today, that strategy had worked extraordinarily well.  It was not unusual, these days, for the Hornfangs and the Roadkeepers to be loudly posturing in the pub, but usually it ended with, “yeah, and your MOTHER too!”.  But recently, some Hornfangs had been found dead in the middle of town, and that had turned everything up a notch. It was still unsolved, and the guard was keeping details to themselves.  And that gave license to everyone in the pub to create their own details.

Today,, a bunch of Hornfangs seemed even more agitated than usual.  Not without good reason, mind you, given the recent deaths, but these guys decided to take it out to the market.  I quickly finished my ale and scurried outside.   Ale-fueled discussions often were the most interesting.

So, I was out in the market when it all started.  The Hornfangs were already making noises about how “somebody” ought to do “something” but “nobody” seemed to be doing “anything.”  It might have stayed at the usual level of complaining if a group of Roadkeepers hadn’t approached from the next street over.  My thinking was that this would be even more subdued since all of the market was around us and there was plenty of room to avoid one another.

But that wasn’t really the goal today, apparently.  When one of the Hornfangs bluntly told the Roadkeepers to leave, one Roadkeeper just as bluntly announced “We were here first.”   Weapons were drawn, and the market became a dangerous place.  I saw several of my usual pub mates take on a serious look, and Shura and Vlad both stepped in between the Hornfangs and Roadkeepers.  Shura glared at one of the Roadkeepers and looked pretty intimidating, but he seemed unruffled.  Sigh. I was ready to step up too, at least to defend my drinkmates, but it was right then that it happened.

Sir Roderic, the founder of Roderic’s Cove, put in an appearance.  A pale, but distinct, ghostly figure appeared right there in the marketplace,  and with a slow turn that encompassed the entire market, shouted “No! Not! In! My! Cove!”

Most of the marketplace scattered.  I guess Vlad held his ground, but once I was sure the ghost was gone, I came back.  So did several others and we talked among ourselves about what had just happened.  i’ve been here for several months and never had anything like that happen, but according to some of the old timers, Sir Rod has been known to put in appearances before.   And then, finally, the guard came.  Sheesh, talk about timing.

We explained what had happened and he nodded solemnly.  He took a few notes, asked a few more questions, and then found ourselves being interrogated by Audrahni.  When she realized there was actually more than a half dozen of us interested in the ghost, and the Roadkeepers, and Hornfangs, she suggested we continue our conversation over dinner at the Creekside that evening.  We all eagerly agreed.

It was Droste who suggested we try taking some time before dinner to track the Roadkeepers who’d run off.  He’s pretty good at this, I guess, and easily tracked them to a ferry over the river not too far out of town.  Tracking further on the other side seemed pointless, since as we got farther from town, the more likely we were to actually find our targets.

Over dinner that night, Audrahni told us a bit more history of Roderic’s Cove, and how things have been escalating lately.  There were a few details about the recent murders that she knew of but weren’t entirely public – like one body was stabbed in the throat, but the other five bodies had not a mark on them.  The expression on their face looked like they’d died from fright.  (She prepares the bodies for burial, so she knows this stuff.)

We asked if the locals, the Hornfangs, have a meeting place.  She replied she was pretty sure they did, but it was not, unfortunately, common knowledge.  She looked us over and asked, pointblank, if we’d be interested in doing a little investigating.

A bit surprised, I looked around the table.  Droste, Yanor, Sasha and Shura, Vlad, Shimsa, and myself.   I guess that would be a nicely sized investigative team.  Our mission would be to find out more about this rivalry, and perhaps also learn more about why Roderic’s ghost continues to hang around.  Ghosts, after all, usually have a reason for sticking around.

Sunday, 3 Sarenith

We learned from a guard that a Jana Guildersleeves is the apparent leader of the Hornfangs – though of course she seems to have disappeared of late.   She is the daughter of the former governor who, ten years past, was run out of town on charges of corruption.  The guards also mentioned a strange fact – the Roadkeepers seemed to refer to their leader as “Mother”.

Vlad came back with even more disturbing news … when he went to his job at the mill, he discovered several absences.  Millworkers aren’t always know for their loyalty to the clock but it was noteworthy that all of those missing were confirmed or suspected Hornfang members.

We split up to follow up on these several different leads.  For my part, even though it was Sunday and many business were often closed, i made the usual rounds to see if any deliveries needed to be made.  One of my usual customers, Ladia Killstrop, revealed to me that she was out the night of the killings.  While she didn’t hear or see anything, she did believe somebody did.  The son of the town drunk finds it convenient to not be home most of the time and she found him running, very scared, and very closemouthed.

I was able to locate him at a local sweet shop, and we hit it off well due to our common affinity for the pastries.  He revealed he’d been doing some night fishing when he heard loud voices.  Drawn to the source, he kept hidden, but heard bits of the conversation.  One lady was real mad.

“You have no right!”
“It is not yours!”
“You aprobing the ruined cymbal!”

Wait.  That last again?

“You’re a pro pre 8 ing it!”

Appropriating. The …

The Rune Symbol.

Oh.  Oh no.

“She drew a broken sword and stabbed a man without touching hm.  Then the ghosts and monsters went after the others.”

I took this information back to the others.   We quickly realized that the “Hornfang” very much resembled the symbol for Wrath.  This nearness to the Runelords was both exciting and dangerous.  But hadn’t they been defeated?

When the group learned of this, we decided we needed to understand more of Roderic’s story.  Were the Runelords somehow  still impacting this region?  Did they contribute to his death?  We planned a trip to Roderic’s old estate (“Roderic’s Wreck”) to see if anything could be learned there.

Audrahni said to be careful, and mentioned if we could help Roderic find his peace, she’d consider it a personal favor.  To assist us she gave us

[1200] six vials of holy water, and
[1201] a wand of cure light wounds [13].

Moonday, 4 Sarenith

Well, Rod’s place sure was a wreck.  Place really needs some work.  Lots of bugs.

First we were attacked by stirges.  The others managed to take care of them before any got to me, but circumstances found me throwing force missiles at the cockroaches that came after us next.  And the swarms of spiders.

Droste managed to find a map, of sorts, taped to a desk drawer.  It had the traditional X marked on it, as well as “ST.HS”.  It was only a partial map, which made it hard to tell us what it was really describing.

In what appeared to be the dining room, we found

[1250] silver service

And Droste claimed to have seen Roderic and his family in the family room.  At least, that’s what he seemed to be screaming when he ran from ther room.  🙂  By the time we looked, there was nothing there though.

Then in the kitchen, a blob of .. whatever.  More force missiles.

However, going to the master bedroom was the real win.  There, we discovered a ghost, but not a frightening one.  Roderic’s ghost had a long disjointed message for us …  “The Cove”, “The Stone House in the Woods”, “Save them”, “The Gauntlet”, “My key”, “My Map”. There was also, here,

[12B0] box, lead-lined,  pair of keys stuck inside it, and it was in the shape of a sword.

The name Baraket was engraved on the box, which is the sword of the Runelord of Pride, and s known to have an invisible blade.

Oh good – Roderic and Runelords all mixed together.  Were they mixed at the time of his death?

Next room over we found the – yes – giant undead cockroaches.  This is why you don’t leave poisonous food lying around.  The food will attract cockroaches, the poison will kill them, and then their poor attitudes will bring them back as angry undead cockroaches.

A scream came from the lounge and Droste exited quickly, shaking his head and muttering “nope, nope, nope, nope” as he headed outside.  He’d apparently found another frightening figure, but when we looked in there something just threw things at us so we shut the door and left it alone.

On to a sewing room which seemed to be afflicted with flying sharp objects.  We left the room and allowed the painful objects to embed themselves in walls and furniture, then reentered.   But a little searching found a box with a false bottom and

[12G0] 9 gold bars (~200gp each)
[12G1] 1 pair scissors

We moved on to what seemed to be a cartography room, and Roderic again appeared to encourage us.

“My map! They took my map!  Holds the key to the vault! Baraket will control them! It will control you! You must endure where I cannot! In the vault! Save my Cove! They took it!  To town!  Gauntlets are your hope!”

Then into what appeared to be a child’s bedroom.  There was a sound of soft crying or whimpering but of course it was not that simple.  We found a skeletal child who stole Shura’s voice.  She took the opportunity to strike at it, and we all joined in.  It died.  But it still took a little while for Shura’s voice to come back.

Lastly there was a closed closet door that sounded like water was running.  When we carefully opened it, well, yes, a bunch of water did come out, along with a few objects.  A notable one was a soggy

[1260] magic slippers – 1/day for 10 min ignore difficult terrain (“feather step slippers”)

We searched around the grounds a little but didn’t find anything interesting.  I think we’d had enough excitement for one day and sure didn’t want to spend the night there, so we headed back to the Cove.

Droste’s Journal for Sarenith 1 – Sarenith 4, 4718

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Fireday, Sarenith 1, 4718 afternoon
Roderic’s Cove The Barracks

“Have you seen the Cove’s grinning old man?” Scald asked.

The caravan I was guarding had just returned from a quick trip (there and back again) to Riddlesport. I was on relatively friendly terms with Scald, one of the wagon drivers, who was from Roderic’s Cove and often brought up relatively useless bits of information about his home town.

I admitted my ignorance and a short while later we were standing before a wall where caravan wagons sheltered when staying in town. It was made from horizontally laid logs and the end of one had been carved into the menacing face of a grinning skull. The eyes looked oddly polished.

“Huh,” I replied, “Now that is interesting. Who did this?”

Scald said, “Nobody knows. It showed up some years ago. All of the local kids are terrified of it, and a rite of passage among the braver lads is to come here after dark and stick their fingers into the eye sockets.”

I had seen just such a carving in Riddlesport also near the caravan grounds there. We had called it “the caravan skull”, and it too had appeared some years ago when I was a child. It gave one the willies just looking at it, but I learned later it was probably a carving of Groetus: some minor deity related to Pharasma.

I’m sure there was a story behind the figures, but I doubt anyone but the person who carved them would be able to tell it.

Starday, Sarenith 2, 4718 night
Roderic’s Cove The Barracks

I have inadvertently become part of a team investigating the recent clashes between the area bandits, who call themselves the Road Keepers, and a local band of townfolk in search of a sense of belonging and answering to the name Hornfangs.

Apparently the Hornfangs consider it their duty to do something about the Roadkeepers, but up to a few weeks ago this had been limited to posturing and bluster. That changed during a midnight scuffle that left some of the Hornfangs dead in the town circle. Tensions have been high since then, but both sides kept away from one another.

Until today.

It was a market day at the Circle, and folks were wandering about the stalls socializing and doing their usual Starday shopping and selling. I was there looking for a better bow or maybe something odd bit of junk that turned out to be a priceless Thassilonian artifact… or just ancient junk. The Hornfangs were out and making brash and loud comments about how “something ought to be done” about the Roadkeepers. A few of us did our best to diffuse the situation, but we did notice one individual who seemed determined to keep poking the hornet’s nest.

Then a band of Roadkeepers crashed the party. Weapons were drawn on both sides, and once again a handful of us tried to get between the two groups to forestall any major blood letting. But it never came to that.

A ghostly form appeared and shouted, “Not in my cove!”

Well that was enough for me. And for most everybody else. We all scattered out from the square. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and while Fan would have been delighted at the spirit’s appearance, I could just see her shaking her head at my rapid departure.

By the time I returned the ghost had vanished and the town guard had arrived. A handful of other residents had returned with me (or had not been chased off by the figure in the first place).

Roderic’s Cove being what it is I knew everybody there (albeit some better than others). Yanor shared my enthusiasm for Thassilonian history and ruins, and we had discussed their ancient culture many times. He agreed with my assessment that the Circle itself was one such ruin, much like the Old Light in Sandpoint. Vlad and I had met while helping out the guards. The others I was less familiar with, although Jigu the halfling was hard not to recognize, as were the twins Sasha and Shura. Shimsa was still a bit of a mystery to me.

Audrahni arrived followed by Julit Freson. While I expected to see the captain of the guard I was surprised to see the elf. Of course everybody in Roderic’s Cove knew of Audrahni, and while I had seen her before I had never met her. The purpose of her presence in the town was fogged in gossip and rumor. She lived next to the graveyard and even acted as the town’s grave digger. But her interest and involvement in the well being her home apparently extended beyond this role.

We were questioned by Captain Freson and also by Audrahni. In fact it was Audrahni who asked the most questions and was most interested by the appearance of the ghost. Both she and the Freson were sure it was the ghost of Sir Roderic himself, founder of the town.

I had heard the stories about his ghost still haunting the Cove: defending it, some said, against threats. But to be honest I only half believed them and attributed most of the tales to excessive consumption of Possum’s fruit grog.

Audrahni noted that while most of us were new comers, we had taken it upon ourselves to try and prevent what could have been another violent confrontation. Because we had taken a special interest in the welfare of Roderic’s Cove, might we want to do more?

I looked around at the others gathered in a circle and realized she was right: most of us had only been in Roderic’s Cove for a handful of months, but we were the ones who had stepped up to take action when it was needed. And in so doing we appear to have forged a relationship with one another that united us as… well, as a team.

She asked to meet us over dinner at the Creekside — her treat (and who would say no to that?) — to discuss details of the recent developments. After she left and we were blinking at one another in surprise, I suggested we see which way the bandits (aka “Road Keepers”) had gone after the fled the Circle, and from whence they had arrived.

I have some skill as a tracker and was able to trace their route to (and from) the town center via from the ferry that provided a safe crossing over the mighty Chavali River. The woman who operated the ferry was still at her post. “Yes, those bandits crossed back over the river a short while ago,” she replied when I asked. Anybody who traveled in this region knew old Hallem and her devotion to running the ferry to all and sundry during daylight hours. I paid for a trip across the river and noted where the bandits’ tracks led into the forest on the far side. I was in no position to follow, and knowing the habits of bandits in general, suspected I was being watched. Hallem took me back across and volunteered that the Road Keepers had come across from that way earlier in the day.

We made our way to the Creekside, the only public house in Roderic’s Cove, for dinner with Audrahni. And that’s when she recruited our informal team to (informally) investigate the the activities of the Road Keepers and Hornfangs, and to find out why Sir Roderic’s ghost was not at peace.

The most startling news she shared was the state of the bodies from the last conflict between the rival groups. The casualties were all from the Hornfangs: six dead. But only one had physical wounds, and the others looked as if they died of fright.

Sunday, Sarenith 3, 4718 evening
Roderic’s Cove The Creekside Tavern and Inn

We split up early in the morning and spent the day nosing around town.

From the town guards Vlad learned that the leader of the Hornfangs was Jana Guildersleeves — daughter of the former town governor. But she’s kept a low profile since the deaths of her followers. They also thought the Roadkeepers called their leader “mother.” Cute.

I returned to Hallem and discovered that the Roadkeepers did not cross over the river (at least not by the ferry) on the day of the killings.

Jigu followed up on a lead about an eyewitness to the massacre: the young son of the town drunk. The boy provided an intriguing story in which the Roadkeepers played no part. He heard arguing from the Circle around midnight with a loud voice proclaiming, “You got no right. You are appropriating the Runelord symbol.” The man with the grievance had several friends with him and they were facing a woman, who drew a “broken sword” and pointed it at the man, who promptly fell. Then ghosts and monsters then appeared and killed the guy’s friends.

With the mention of a Runelord symbol it took no great leap to realize that a “horned fang” was an accurate description of the Rune of Wrath, and that Alasnist was the Runelord in question.

Vlad also discovered that the members of the Hornfangs that were rabble rousing in the Circle yesterday were nowhere to be found today. They had not shown up for work in the morning and nobody knew where they had gone.

We found Audrahni, reported our findings and told her we wanted to visit Sir Roderic’s old house (named by the locals, Roderic’s Wreck), which was a short walk out of town.

She told us that he and his family were attacked on the river and had all drowned. She then gave us a wand of Cure Light Wounds and some vials of holy water, just in case.

We decided to visit the Wreck the next morning.

Moonday, Sarenith 4, 4718 noon
Roderic’s Cove The Creekside Tavern and Inn

Perhaps the more I see ghosts and spooks the more calm I’ll remain while around them. I certainly hope so. I know what to expect from hostile thugs and corporeal creatures and how to deal with them. But incorporeal wisps of whatever that like to play weird mental games? Not so much.

Before heading over to Roderic’s Wreck Vlad found that the missing Hornfangs were still absent. Are they hiding from fear or planning some secret action?

Roderic’s old home was once an elegant and stately manor house perched upon the Chavali. Now it’s a dilapidated shambling heap falling into the river.

And it’s pest ridden too.

Before we even entered the place we were set upon by stirges: those large buzzing mosquito like things that plagued swampy areas. We cleared those pests off, and then found the first two rooms of the house were infested with giant cockroaches and swarms of spiders. We killed the former and used their corpses to lure the latter into a room and locked them in.

I found a map secured to the bottom of a desk drawer in the first room, but none of us knew what it represented, other than a vague location for some hidden item marked by an X and the letters “ST.SH”.

I moved into what was the family room, and appropriately enough there was Sir Roderic and his family seated in the chairs and on the sofa. They looked peaceful and happy enough… until they noticed me. “Get Out!” Sir Roderic yelled. Who was I to intrude upon this scene of post mortem family bliss? I quickly left, letting the others know we had found not only Sir Roderic but the rest of his family as well.

Sadly the spirits were gone when my companions investigated the room.

“OK,” I thought, “Let’s check out the kitchen. What could be hiding in there?”

An oozing blob. We made quick work of it and went upstairs, leaving the closet under the stairs with its splashy sounds for later.

Our first stop was the master bedroom, where Sir Roderic appeared once again. But this Roderic was not an angry ghost, and pleaded with us to save the Cove and… er, a gauntlet. And for us to save “them.” I found a hidy hole in the floor which contained a high quality case that was lined with lead. Inside was a wad of gum holding a pair of keys, and the interior shape was for holding a sword. The name “Baraket” was engraved on a plaque on the case, which was (is?) the name of Xanderghul’s sword, and was known to have an invisible blade.

Now we had a link to the Runelord of Pride as well as Wrath.

In a nearby storage room we encountered a handful of giant undead cockroaches, which we dispatched after retreating from the room and forcing them to come at us one at a time. But we found nothing else of interest in the room.

Next was a lounge, but it looked as if it had been ransacked. A skeletal figure snapped into view and shrieked.

Nope. I quickly made my way out from the room and down the stairs before realizing I was probably better off with the rest of the team even if there were ghosts rather than on my own with whatever I might encounter.

My companions had moved on to a map making room by the time I returned, and Sir Roderic made another appearance. Fortunately this was the sad and needy ghost who once again pleaded with us, but this time with more details and less moaning (but still some).

“My map! They took my map. It holds the key. Baraket will control them and it will control you. The vault! I should have taken the gauntlet, but I ran. You should find the map and the keys. The gauntlets will protect you from Baraket.”

I held up the map I found downstairs, but Roderic simply moaned and shook his head, saying “That is not my map” before fading away. Pity we didn’t have a chance to show him the keys that came with Baraket’s case.

And so to recap, Sir Roderic wants us to find his map (not to be confused with the map we already have), some keys (which may or may not be the ones we have — my money is on not), and a pair of gauntlets. We have a map that identifies the relative location of something, but we don’t know what nor do we know where the map is for.

We entered the remaining unexplored upstairs room and saw it was a nursery. Oddly enough (or not, given where we were and all that we had encountered already) we heard the soft sound of someone whimpering.

A small skeletal child stepped out from behind a wicker crib and gushed, “It’s so lovely for you to come and play with me!”

You’d think that would be freaky enough, but no, the damned thing spoke with Shura’s voice.

Shura hit it. To be honest, I would have done the same and in fact did so at the first opportunity. We killed it. What else could we do?

We returned to the closet door downstairs and prepared for something bad to happen. An aqueous orb rolled out and splashed onto the hallway floor, bringing with it a number of items from the closet.

We explored a little bit outside, but we found nothing else of interest, other than the map we had found did not appear to be for the area around the house. Finally we returned to Roderic’s Cove for some lunch at the Creekside (and a shot or two of whiskey for me) and to update Audrahni on what happened at the house.

Mental note: remember to thank Audrahni for giving us the wand, which proved invaluable.

Character: NPC

Audrahni’s Journal, 4th Sarenith, 4718 AR

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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.

Yanor journal entry #1 Roderic’s cove

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Sister where are you? I have searched everywhere for any sign of you but nothing. Roderic’s cove was yet another in a long line of dead ends. For so many years I kept expecting you to show up, I just couldn’t understand why my sister would leave me alone in this odd world. I have search cities and towns throughout this continent looking for any sign that you ever existed. Even the old thassilon ruins show no signs of you. I have finally come to the conclusion that my method of searching for you is not going to work. All the data clearly indicates that I came through a portal from somewhere, in all my travels everyone just looks at me strange when I explain my story with most thinking that I am making it all up. There is one place that I haven’t searched yet: Time.

I’ve heard a theory that the runelords had mastery of time. If we ended up in different times then that would explain why you haven’t found me after all this time. Given my research you likely didn’t end up in my recent past.  Did I pass through time or did you? Maybe both of us?

The fact that I had to learn to speak common after traveling through the portal supports being born in a different time. But was that from the distant past or distant future? I really wish you would have given me more information on why this happened. Was this an accident or did you purposely send me here.

My new companions here at Roderic’s cove have begun to uncover powerful runelord magic and there is talk of the runelords waking from their slumber. I feel like the hero’s of the past need to band together to prevent the runelords from raising to power again but the way Jigu and Droste talk about the hero’s they seemed uninterested. Who is going to stop the runelords. Sister did you send me here to help stop the runelords or was it to help the runelords.

Roderic’s cove is one of the last places that I expected to find a runelords champions weapon, but that seems to be the case. Their seems to be something related to the runelords that goes all the way back to the founder of Rodric’s cove. It might be good to work with this group for a while to see if they can uncover the source of the runelords time magic. For now I will keep my ideas about time magic to myself, a least until the subject comes up.

My assumptions about my curse were wrong. Maybe I should have research divine curses to figure out more about this curse. Several times while at Roderic’s home the cursed activated and now it seems as though fighting triggers the curse. Looking back at the last several times the curse happened back in Korvosa I can now clearly see that they were combat situations. I guess it is lucky that Sasha is here to understand me during combat. It looks like this curse is going to happen a lot more with these people so I need to at least start improving my ability to fight. Maybe learning to fight better will help me fit in better, the twins as always are still kicking ass.

Jigu Bardcreek, halfling Arcanist

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Jigu Bardcreek sipped his ale, sat in the pub, eyed the usual patrons, and waited for something to happen.

There was no guarantee, of course, that anything would, and often when it did, “something” was only vaguely amusing.  But if one was patient, and one had had enough ale, sometimes “something” was worth waiting for.

To be honest, “something” had a pretty low bar to clear.  Roderic’s Cove was not exactly a center for, well, anything.  There wasn’t much crime.  There wasn’t much culture.  There was a fair amount of  commerce, thanks to the docks and the fact that Roderic’s Cove was the closest seaport for anybody living upstream on the Chavali River. It was that same commerce that had kept Jigu employed for several months now.  Deliveries, on an irregular but relatively frequent basis, had been sufficient to eke out a living. It wasn’t a guarantee of elevenses every day, but it made it possible more often than not.

He had been in Roderic’s Cove for several months now, even though he’d originally considered his stay “temporary”.  He was a favored courier, because he had a reputation for honesty and trustworthiness.   His keen ability to appraise items on the spot, had more than once saved an employer from being cheated.

He was pretty sure that nobody in town knew he had also studied spells and wizardry.  It was not particularly a secret, but it just didn’t come up in conversation, and he didn’t really know enough to consider it a profession.  It’s not like he was some sort of bar magician, sawing people in half.  His spells tended to be utilitarian—for a courier, like dancing lantern or, in a pinch, vanish.

Jigu was most recently from Korvosa, nominal home of the Sihedron Hero Trask Feltherup.  Trask’s father has a home and business there, but Trask himself has yet to truly settle down.  Jigu had some theories about how sorcerers and wizards are more similar than many think, and his investigations and research have led him to conversations with Trask himself on a couple of occasions.  In fact, Jigu had managed to work magic in a way, according to Trask, that few if any have done before.   He found Trask impulsive and less…disciplined than Jigu likes his world, but  he was still a source of both inspiration and information.  In fact,  it was Jigu’s consultations with Trask that led to Jigu’s  fascination with things Thassilonian.  The tsunami wave at Magnimar’s shores a few years ago convinced him that the Thassilonian past was still a clear and present danger.

He believed he could learn more about Thassilonia and Thassilonian lore by visiting Magnimar and visiting with other experts.  Travel takes money, though, and he’d paused here in Roderic’s Cove longer than he’d expected.  A one-way job with a delivery caravan had brought him here, certainly off the beaten path if one were going to Magnimar, but…it’s the kind of place, he mused, he wished he’d grown up in.  He’d kind of got stuck here, but really, he didn’t mind it so much.  It wasn’t a bad place to be stuck. Plenty of time yet to head south through Sandpoint—an interesting Thassilonian place in its own right.

But not tonight.  Not just yet.

He ordered another pint of ale, because his observation was,  the more ale that was flowing, the more likely something interesting would happen. And there were no deliveries tonight or tomorrow that would make it a bad idea.  So Jigu Bardcreek sipped his ale, sat in the pub, eyed the usual patrons, and waited for something to happen.

Yanor, human Oracle of Lore

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On Gozran 17th 4710 the elderly couple Yani and Eleanor were enjoying a quite game of shogi when a portal suddenly opens inside their home. As the portal is closing a young boy is hurled from the portal hitting the wall with great force and then crumpling to the ground in a bloody heap. Examining the boy they discover a severe head injury but that the blood dripping off him was not his blood.

Yani asks the church for help with the injuries on the boy but the cleric is away. The young boy remained unconscious for three days before waking up and had no memory who he is, he can’t even remember his own name. He immediately asks about his sister Isabela but Yani just gives him a strange look.

Eleanor puts her hand on her husband’s arm and says something in a language the boy does not understand. Final she turns to the boy and explains that he was the only person that came through the portal. She then goes on to explain that her husband doesn’t understand the language the boy is speaking. Eleanor tells the boy that she always wanted to have a son but that they were not bless with any children.  She names him Yanor, at least until his memory returns.

For the next month Yanor wears bandages as the injury on does not seem to heal. When the cleric finally returns he examines Yanor and discovers low level lingering magic and dispels that magic. With the magic dispelled Yanor is finally able to properly heal and learn to speak common. It is then that Yanor truly discovers that the people of Wartle see him as a bandage wearing freak that comes from a backward place that does know how to speak a proper language.

The only kids in town that would play with Yanor are the twins from the church and even they seem a little put off by him. The other kids in Wartle either bulled or just physically beat him and he Yanor soon was very envious of the fact that the twins always had each other’s backs and he often wished his sister would come take him away. Yanor spent most days growing up at the church going through the books in the church library and talking with the elder woman.

As Yanor grew into manhood he noticed that women started to look at him differently .The same girls that for years treated him poor start meeting up with him in private. These private meet ups go on for several years even though the twins keep insisting him that they are using just him. At 16 his adoptive mother dies and 1 year later her husband passes away. Yanor finally has had enough and leaves Wartle at the age of 17.

Yanor has been in Roderic’s Cove for several months after working as an assistant for a small group of researchers investigating a possible Thassilonian ruin a few hundred miles away. He originally was looking for information about his sister Isabela so he eagerly seeks out Miesalo Salen from the Temple of the Stars and Roads as well as Desil Marphan and Audrahni at the Graveyard/The Lady’s Chapel to any records or grave sites related to the name Isabela or anything they know about Thassilonian. He is openly obsessed with anything Thassilonian and would seek out anyone with similar interests and exchange information with them.

He is intrigued at seeing a person he met at Riddleport ‘s Cyphergate just lying down in the circle.   At the idea of this being a Thassilonian ruin he begin looking into the possibility of the circle being a Thassilonian ruin.

Yanor after looking over the site for many days Yanor take a few moments to gather himself before using knowledge arcane skill to try to figure out information about the circle. If there is a connection he would then drop into geek mode explaining in detail how this is connected with Thassilon.

Sasha and Shura, twin changelings: Inquisitor of Sarenrae and Cleric of Sarenrae

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Orienas, the half-elf priest of Serenrae, is barely worth mentioning; but brings three important things to the story of the twins:

  • He is extremely virile and lasted longer than the Hag expected
  • His mental fortitude did not match his confidence
  • He was the son of a twin.

Wiedzma, an Annis Hag, likewise enters and leaves the story of the twins rather quickly but is worth mentioning because

  • she chose not to make the twins into a tasty stew when they were born
  • was a member of a coven that liked to gloat over their conquests of pious men by sending their belongings as trophies with the abandoned children
  • decided to leave the twins, and the scimitar and holy symbol of Orienas, beside the burning embers of a Varisian caravan near the small city of Wortle.

The twins might have had been very happy living a nomadic life in a Varisan caravan but the caravan witch, being extremely superstitious, felt the pale fey twins were an evil omen. Too afraid to tempt the Fates and simply abandon them, the witch instead had them delivered to the first church they found in Turtleback Ferry; a church dedicated to Desna, run by a well respected hero, Kane.

Again as the Fates would have it, were the twins delivered to Kane without their father’s belongings, they may have found themselves raised under  the teachings of Desna. But Kane took the belongings as a sign and soon as they were old enough to travel, delivered them to Olexandr, a friend and follower of Serenrae.

The twins were raised within the confines of the church and for the early part of their lives only left under direct supervision. Their childhood was without merit or mention, until they hit their teenage years.

The church, aware of the calling that would eventually draw the twins to their Hag progenitor, decided to force-ably separate them in case one turned, they would not lose both. Shura immersed herself in her martial training to resist the Call. Sasha, did not as easily shake free of the Call which awoke in her some of her innate magical nature which she hid from the clergy. To mask the ability, she committed herself to her studies and clerical pursuits. Apart for the first time since they were born, the twins were devastated by the isolation and many months later when they were returned, swore to never be apart again.

At 18 the twins left the church to being their mission work. As an inquisitor and cleric, they were the judge and enforcer for the church of Serenrae. Sasha applied her talents for the Glory of Serenrae and excelled in representing the Church.  Shura committed her sword to Serenrae’s Truth, to purge the world of deception and misdirection.

Free to roam, the twins sought out Roderic’s Cove because it was the last known residence of their father.  They were uncertain if they wanted family or just understanding of where they came from. Either way their travels took them to Roderics Cove where they met Audrahni who eventually helped them find their search lead to the graves of their grandparents.

Since then they have remained in Roderic’s Cove to help defuse the conflict between the rival gangs working with the local law enforcement as mediators and additional trained “police”.

Droste, human Slayer

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Droste was born in the year 4700 in the city of Riddleport to Roer and Heilzemé Vaassen. The couple own a manufacturing business in the Free Coin district that produces goods and tools used by the entertainment professions (especially gambling houses) that are prevalent in the quarter. While profitable, their shop is a front for the other services they offer, which involves “guard work” (mostly handled by Roer) and “redistribution of wealth” (mostly handled by Heilzemé). The Thieves Guild pays regular visits.

Both Droste and his older sister, Etienne, have been trained in all aspects of the family business. But while Etienne embraces following in their parents’ footsteps, Droste has other interests and other plans.

Droste has always been fascinated with Riddleport’s Cyphergate, which has developed into a keen interest in the Thassilonian empire and especially with the ruins scattered about Varisia. He was especially intrigued by the (relatively) recent exploits of a group of adventurer’s that had thwarted the return of the rune-lord Karzoug. When he found a copy of a journal that was purportedly written by a member of that team, he bought it, despite it being written in Shoanti, a language he could not at the time read.

A year ago Droste journeyed with his friend Fan Laarsted to see several Thassilonian ruins described in “The Journal”, starting in Sandpoint and working their way up to the Storval Stairs. He returned with Fan as far as Roderic’s Cove more than six months ago.

Since arriving in town Droste has worked as a guard for traders, merchants and travelers seeking extra protection on their way through the Churlwood, and has made numerous trips as far north as Riddleport (spending just enough time with his family so they don’t send someone out looking for him) and as far south as Magnimar.

This work is sporadic, and when not traveling he keeps his skills honed by volunteering under Captain Freson at the guard house.

He remains in Roderic’s Cove because he is fascinated with the Circle and the possibility of it being a Thassilonian ruin. He can be found at odd hours in the Circle poking about the paving stones — sometimes even laying down (to the amusement of passersby) to get a closer look.

Vladimir Pavel, 25-year-old human Magus

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Vladimir Pavel was born in Korvosa in 4693 to parents of very little means. As a Varisian family, they were second-class citizens—bordering on undesirable—and had few prospects for escaping poverty. It had already been difficult for Imana and Danio to maintain their meager apartment in the Bridgefront ward of Old Korvosa, and adding a child, and specifically an unplanned one, did nothing to improve their station.

For over a decade they tried to stay afloat. Imana spent six days a week cleaning houses, and Danio took whatever work he could find. His jobs were mostly hard labor, poorly paid, and seasonal, which meant that most months they were just scraping by. In Vald’s twelth year, Danio tried to change their fortunes by working as a drug mule for a gang under the auspices of the Cerulean Society, often taking Vlad with him to deflect suspicion. On a run to a new gambling hall in the remote community of Turtleback Ferry, they were caught in a flash flood. Vlad nearly drowned, marking his first brush with death.

His father died later that year in a conflict with a rival gang, leaving Vlad with his mother and her growing addiction to Cabble-Weed. They spent the next year living among the Shingles, and Vlad frequently resorted to theft to keep them both alive. He quickly learned to favor students of the Acadamae, as they were not allowed to leave the campus grounds and thus could not risk reporting the thefts. They also tended to carry books on arcane magic, which Vlad kept for himself in hopes of learning magic, himself.

When Queen Ileosa took the throne, life among the Shingles became exceedingly dangerous. The populations of imps, stirges, giant spiders, and other horrors swelled under her influence, and it was an imp that gave him a second brush with death. Only the last-second intervention of one of the few remaining pseudodragons in the city saved his life.

With Korvosa no longer safe, and his mother all but lost to addiction, Vlad ran from the city, making a long, slow, and difficult trek to Magnimar. There, he found refuge in Ordellia in an unofficial home for runaway children of various races known as Tineri House. It was run by other runaways in an abandoned building on Kyver’s Islet, and more or less tolerated by the district because it was better than urchins living on the streets. He spent the next several years unlearning the lessons of his youth, as well as shedding his anger and penchant for theft. He grew to care for others in need, both more and less fortunate than himself.

In 4713, Vlad was helping run Tineri House when he had his third brush with death. Magnimar was struck by an earthquake, and though the city was spared widespread damage from it and the resulting tsunami, Tineri House was not so lucky. The decaying building collapsed in the quake, burying over three dozen in rubble. Vlad was one of only four that were found alive by rescuers.

It was Chadali’s faith that helped him move on after this tragedy, and eventually to see the connections in his own past. The flood near Turtleback Ferry, the earthquake which brought down Tineri House, and (albeit, indirectly) the miasma of Queen Ileosa’s rule: all these events which nearly claimed his life were rooted in Thassilon and its Runelords. This wan’t coincidence: it was a calling.

To understand it, and be prepared for where that calling took him, he needed to resume studying magic. He still had the books he stole years ago, but what he needed was time and fewer distractions. So in 4715, he left Magnimar and moved to the community of Roderic’s Cove. It was close enough to a large city to not be isolated, but small enough and quiet enough to meet his needs. To support himself, he used his experience from the mills on Kyver’s Islet to get a job at Meir’s Sawmill. In addition to his ad-hoc training in magic, he spent his time learning more about Thassilon, and the adventurers and heroes who confronted the Runelords as they awoke in modern times.

Most importantly, he learned that some of them still slumbered.

Return of the Runelords

Our group began the penultimate adventure path for Pathfinder 1st Edition on January 1st, 2020.

The all-powerful Runelords, near-immortal wizards who ruled Varisia in ancient days, stir to terrible life once more, surging across the frontier with plans to reignite their time-lost empire.

Note: The Covd-19 pandemic has forced the group to online game sessions their cadence has impacted in-character journaling.

From left to right: Jigu, Droste, Vlad, Yanor, Shura and Sasha

Cast of Characters

  • Drost, male human Slayer, played by Leonard ( Background )
  • Jigu, male gnome Arcanist, played by Rick ( Background )
  • Remi, female human Bard, played by Darren
  • Sasha, twin changeling Cleric of Sarenrae, played by SteveM ( Background )
  • Shimsa Lucan, female aasimar, played by Cassandra
  • Shura, twin changeling Inquisitor of Sarenrae, played by Mike ( Background )
  • Vladimir Pavel, male human Magus, played by John ( Background )

Retired

  • Yanor, male human Oracle of Lore, played by Darren ( Background )