Category Archives: Return of the Runelords

The Return of the Runelords adventure path.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Cove.

Stone house in the woods.

Gauntlet.

Save them.

My map.

The key.

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

They took my map.

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

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

Holds the key.

What holds the key? What key? To what?

Baraket will control them. May control you.

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

Must endure where I did not.

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

The vault. It lies still in the vault.

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

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

That’s it, I need a drink.

Droste’s Journal for Sarenith 4 – 5, 4718

Moonday, Sarenith 4, 4718 late night
Churlwood The Bramblemouth Goblins’ Den

Change of plan: we decided to not sleep until after we had purged the goblins from their nest. This meant advancing down the narrow and short tunnel to where the remainder of the horde had fled. In the dark. With an unknown number of goblins waiting for us at the far side.

This was not a good strategic plan, especially with our magic users low on spells. Despite my misgivings we pushed forward.

It did not go well.

A little more than halfway down the death trap — by that I mean tunnel — we, or more precisely the person in front, Shimsa, was blocked by a very large snake. Surprisingly the snake spoke common, but unsurprisingly it was able to projectile vomit (with good accuracy) toxic phlegm. A light spell was cast on a stone so that those of us able to assist could see, and a short while later we were filing past the ex-snake.

Shimsa reached the end of the tunnel where proceded to enact our plan, which was to get as many of us out into the large chamber so we could engage in the goblins before they cut down those of us in front.

It worked, but only barely, and we used up the last bit of healing magic we possessed just to survive. There were a lot more goblins here than expected and the only thing that saved us was their relative incompetence, or perhaps overconfidence. Had they simply swarmed us all at once or released their dogs right away I would not be writing this now.

We scrounged what useful items we could from the two better equipped goblins and then searched the area.

We quickly realized that we were in the ruins of what had once been an above ground collection of buildings, which had been buried over time. The goblins must have burrowed in and set up their den amidst the ruins.

A recently excavated passageway led east. I suddenly realized why the goblins had captured the dwarves and exclaimed, “The turds brought the dwarves here to dig for them because, as far as they were concerned, every dwarf was an expert on mining.”

The passageway quickly dead ended, but a door in the north wall was exposed and beyond that was a room with a very highly magical circle — a teleportation portal of some sort. Thassilonian runes encircling the portal proclaimed that it was dedicated to Alasnist, the Runelord of Wrath.

Both Yanor and I were excited by the fact that these were Thassilonian ruins associated with a specific Runelord — the same one for which the ancient ruins beneath Sandpoint were built. I had visited those back when I was last there, but they had been picked over and sanitized years before, whereas these ruins were pristine and waiting to be explored!

We tossed a goblin body into the circle and it vanished, as expected. But we were unprepared to follow. Who knows if we could get back or what awaited us on the other side.

Instead we followed the main passage south, which is where we discovered that one goblin remained. She was some sort of spell caster and she was guarding the two dwarves.

After another unpleasant, but relatively brief, fight we dispatched the threat and freed the dwarves.

They were happy to be free and they confirmed my suspicion about why the goblins had captured them. Apparently the goblins were looking for treasure because the “long shanks” (their word for anything on two legs taller than three feet) were excavating another ruin close by.

That got our attention, and we wondered who they were and what they were looking for. It seemed likely that Sir Roderic’s words about his map and mysterious artifacts he had found were tied up in all of this.

We are thoroughly exhausted and are camping inside the inner, larger cavern near the (closed and spiked) teleport room door.

Toilday, Sarenith 4, 4718 afternoon
Roderic’s Cove The Creekside

The night passed without event and in the morning light we hauled the goblin bodies out from their den and tossed them over the ridge. We knew we’d probably return in the not too distant future, and goblins smelled ripe enough even when they haven’t been rotting for several days.

We escorted the dwarves back to town, picking up the bodies of the guards we had discovered yesterday.

As we crossed over the ferry Hallem said we had made an enemy with Lullaby from our humiliation of her in front of her team the day before. Yeah, we kind of figured that out for ourselves, and I was half expecting her to ambush us this morning. No doubt she was still licking her wounds and making big plans for her revenge. We will need to come back this way through the forest again, and we’ll need to be prepared to deal with the bandits — and my vote is to remove them as a threat once and for all.

Back in Roderic’s Cove we brought the bodies to Captain Freson, warning her about how to properly keep them from turning into undead. Next we briefed Audrahni about our adventure.

And lastly we visited Galds, the leader of the dwarven caravan. She was true to her word and took orders from each of us for a master work weapon of our choice. I paid extra for a compound longbow that would utilize my strength to deal extra damage.

As uncomfortable and awkward as it was to fight the goblins in such cramped quarters, I have found that the encounter has improved my ability with a bow at close range.

Next up was town hall, where we searched through the collection of regional maps that Sir Roderic had drawn. We found one of the Churlwood on which someone had drawn a Thassilonian rune — it highlighted a ridge very much like (and close to) the ridge into which the Bramblemouth’s had dug their den. On the back of this map was the sihedron rune — the primary symbol of the Runelords!

Yep, we’d be heading back into the Churlwood. But we need to proceed with caution. We already knew another party was already digging in the area, and we now had to deal with Lullaby’s wounded pride as well.

I purchased some extra arrows, a nice rope, and a lantern — the latter would have proved useful in the day before, and I am sure will prove useful very soon.

Yanor’s Journal Early Sarenith (Feb 2020)

This just has to be an old buried Thassilonian site and the bandits like the goblins are searching for something. What could possibly have the power to drive both goblins and humans on a frantic search for Thassilonian secrets? As much as I want to stay and further investigate the portal it’s time to get a closer look at Roderic’s maps.

The trip back to Roderick’s cove was uneventful, Apparently Lullaby doesn’t want to tangle with us at the moment.  The map of Churlwood had the symbol of the Runelords marking a spot near where we dealt with the goblins. I copied that and other missing points of reference onto my own map.

How is Audrahni tied to the Runelords? Or did she just happen to settle in Roderick’s cove for no reason. I know we have to build trust before she feels comfortable sharing more of her story and motivations but I just hope she doesn’t wait too long.

Spending time with Svaci truly shows how much these animals mean to her. Just hearing her talk about her dogs is clear to anyone that she is doing what she loves. I admit that Lucy has to be my favorite. If I was going to settle down or become a fur trader she would be my first dog but there is no place in my life for a dog. All in all Svaci is a good person and hopefully in the future she can find someone to marry that will share her passionate about dogs. In the meantime there is no reason for her to feel lonely.  I am not really sure if we are becoming just friends or friends with benefits but she seemed to understand that I am not the marrying type.

Shimsa, aasimar Inquisitor of Sarenrae

Why am I here? Do I have some sort of purpose in being who I am? Or is this all just the result of an accident, a night shared between a Celestial being and one of my ancestors? And for all that, if some being of light and goodness intended to sire an offspring in the world, what’s the point of them living in a cesspool of villainy such as Riddleport?

Shimsa spent much of her time thinking thoughts such as these.  Children of Riddleport got street-smart as soon as they could walk.  They had to.  Corruption and danger were normal and expected parts of life as much as the air they breathed.  She instinctively knew, as they all did, when and where not to be seen.  When some poor soul who was delinquent in paying back a debt or who failed to show the right person the right amount of respect suddenly had an “accident.”

And she despised it all.  The wrongness of it ate at her like an open wound in her soul.  Her own family wasn’t exempt from the dangers either.  Living out on the outskirts of Riddleport afforded them a little bit of land and some semblance of privacy but there were incidents when one or another criminal element used that privacy as an opportunity to break in, rob, hurt her family and home.  The first time, when she was only six, she turned to her parents as they cleaned up the aftermath of the robbery, asking who they should call, judges, guards, ship captains, to see justice done.  She didn’t even get the whole question out before the look on her parents’ faces told her all she needed to know.  There would be no justice.  One way or another, criminals like this, those who are more than a would-be thug or ruffian striking out on their own, have a connection to organized crime groups.  Pirate captains.  Someone with connections to the guard, even to judges and the government agents.  No justice would be served.  This was just business.

Well, it wouldn’t be if she had anything to say about it. At six, there was nothing she could do except seethe inwardly and plan to grow up to put an end to evil and corruption like this.  Unlike many childhood dreams and passions about what one wants to grow up to be, she never let this go.  As she matured into adolescence that determination only grew in strength, but it also lacked any true direction.  Was this really why she, an aasimar girl in Riddleport, was here in the world?

One day, in her mid-teens, she was deep in thoughts such as these as she was looking out beyond the harbor when her eyes rested on the familiar, majestic arch of the Cyphergate.  Suddenly a rush of emotion, adrenaline, and mental clarity hit her.  She knew it was somehow her purpose to fight against systemic corruption and evil in the world.  The Cyphergate was not a product of Riddleport, but someting far, far older from a now-dead civilization.  Thassilon.

And stories have lately been told of the rise and defeat of one of the ancient Runelords.  If any society had rampant corruption, it was Thassilon.  As she looked at Riddleport’s own relic of that bygone empire, it occurred to her that if there is in fact a real possibility that the ancient rulers of Thassilon are indeed returning to power, they would bring with them an unparalleled level of systemic corruption and decadence.  This! This is my calling! she realized.

From that moment on, she set herself to devour every bit of information she could about Thassilon and to prepare herself to be one of Sarenrae’s inquisitors, to eradicate corruption and evil from the world while preventing however she could the horror of a new Thassilon from emerging back into the world.

She wasn’t certain how the conversation with her family would go, but she knew she had to tell them of her plans for what she now felt compelled to do with the rest of her life.  They were as resentful of the conditions of Riddleport as any good-hearted people would be, but Shimsa knew they had accepted the status quo as “simply the way things are in the world.” This was something she simply could not do.  Fortunately, they did not try to dissuade her when she finally broached the topic.

“Somehow, I’ve always known you would take up some kind of holy quest like this,” her mother said.  “I may not like it, fearing for your life as you take on dangerous foes, but I think such callings are the destiny of those aasimar children the gods see fit to be born into the world.”

Her father added, “If this is truly what you must do, I know of an academy dedicated to followers of Sarenrae.  It will be difficult to get the necessary recommendations and fees together, but I know the right people who may be willing to help.  And consider this our coming-of-age gift to you, just make us proud of the positive change you bring to the world.  May The Lady Everlight grant you the wisdom to know when to battle and when to retreat, so that you do not needlessly sacrifice your life in a fight you can’t win.  All this talk of Runelords and such powerful beings makes me think you will be presenting a challenge to even Sarenrae to keep you safe, but I pray it will be so.”

To that end, she was sent to the church academy for training as soon as she was of age to be accepted.  It was there that she met the twins Sasha and Shura.  Recognizing others who endured the stigma of being different from their neighbors, they formed a friendship strengthened by shared childhood challenges and a common purpose as emissaries of the Dawn Flower.  When their training was complete, it seemed only natural for Shimsa to accompany the twins as they set out into the world, which led them to Roderic’s Cove.

Upon arrival, the three friends joined with the town guard to help the local townspeople while they considered what path ahead of them would be the one Sarenrae intended for their future.

Droste’s Journal for Sarenith 4, 4718

Moonday, Sarenith 4, 4718 night
Churlwood The Bramblemouth Goblins’ Den

We have actually made camp underground in the heart of the local goblins’ den. How awesome is that? It’s just like the stories I’ve read about explorers on grand quests: they always end up underground — sometimes for days on end.

Of course one thing those accounts don’t dwell on is just how cramped it is, although being inside a goblin burrow may account for that. Nor how smelly it can be… although again: the goblins. I am thankful for the small fire we’ve kept going both for the light and because the smoke helps mask the odor of these foul smelling pests.

It is hard to believe that just this morning we were rummaging through Sir Roderic’s wreck of a manor house. How did we end up here?

It started when we returned to town from the haunted house and reported our findings to Audrahni. She was as puzzled as we were about what Roderic’s ghost had said — especially about finding “his map.” She did mention that the town kept (or used to) a collection of his maps and perhaps we should start there.

Our adventures at the house convinced me that I needed to upgrade my bow, and so I made my way over to Cove Armory to see if I could order something more capable from Lyndwyn. She was busy talking with a pair of dwarves when I arrived with some of my companions in tow.

I like to be aware of what is being said around me, but in this case there was no need to eavesdrop. The conversation was loud and full of woe. The dwarves were suppliers of the weapons and armor that Lyndwyn provided, and on their way here their small caravan had been ambushed by a troop of goblins and two of her party kidnapped.

Everybody along the Lost Coast Highway from Magnimar to Riddlesport knows about goblins. These small pesky creatures typically go for easy prey and small time thievery. Acts of organized attacks were rare: their little greasy heads just don’t have enough space to formulate, much less hold onto thoughts that complex for very long.

And yet there are stories of goblins being incited to act in such ways, and Takkad’s journal mentions two such incidents. My guess was that the Bramblemouth Goblins (our local infestation) had fallen in with someone or something behind these actions. This did not bode well of Roderic’s Cove and we already had enough problems as things were.

I asked Galds, the leader of the dwarven weapon-smiths, where they had been ambushed and how long ago. I indicated that we might be able to head out and find her missing companions and find out what the goblins were up to (it is always easier to head off trouble rather than waiting for it to come to you).

We learned they had been waylaid the day before, and that the town guard had been alerted and sent someone to investigate. Clearly our first stop was to check with Captain Freson. As soon as Galds realized we were going to help she told us if we could rescue her comrades then she would craft for each of us a high quality weapon of our choice.

Well, who could say no to that?

Captain Freson, as it turned out, was looking for someone to go out and investigate why the guards she had sent out yesterday had not returned.

“We’re already heading out that way to find the dwarves, and so we’ll keep an eye open for the guards as well,” I said.

She appeared to relax, but this was short lived because a villager came racing in at that moment screaming, “Monsters have invaded the northern end of town, and citizens have been hurt!”

Freson gave us a what now? sort of look and we said we’d look into that before looking for the dwarves. Our first stop was to gather the rest of our team from the Creekside and we then quickly made our way along the north road out of town.

We didn’t have to go far to go before a pair of… things came shambling out from the woods toward us. They were like someone had taken a collection of body parts and fused them together in a lumpy humanoid form.

We took them down with ranged and up close attacks. Yanor thought they might have been constructed using ancient Runelord magic. This combined with what we found out about local Runelord artifacts just earlier in the day could not be a coincidence.

We followed the blobby things’ tracks into the woods where we found Svacy, the local kennel keeper, unconscious. She came to after some healing and we helped her find her dogs and then continued to follow the tracks.

The creatures appear to have come from town itself, but we lost the trail on the road’s hard surface. Right by Peacock Manor.

Hmm. Rumor had it that the folks who lived in the manor we mostly intellectuals researching ancient lore. I wondered out loud if their pursuits extended beyond merely the theoretical, and if one of their experiments had gotten loose.

We brought a creature up to the manor and knocked, explaining to the extravagantly dressed fop who opened the door where we had found it, and claiming we hoped they could research what it was for the town guard.

They had us store the body in an outbuilding, but were told to “shove it in and close the door fast.” Sure enough, Vlad and I saw something large and spider-like scuttle across the floor with a sound that reminded me of the giant zombie cock roaches we had encountered at Roderick’s Wreck.

There was just too much going on here.

We reported back to both the captain and Audrahni and then took the ferry into the Churlwood. Or to be more accurate up to the Churlwood, where a party of Roadkeepers waited for us.

Bandits in the Churlwood are a known problem. Traders and caravans passing through had two choices: pay the “protection fee” these land pirates demanded, or go through heavily armed. It was from the latter that I earned a living.

The leader of the bandits introduced herself as Lullaby and demanded ten gold pieces each for “safe passage” through the Churlwood. We countered that we were there on town business because traders who passed through just the day before came to harm, despite having paid the Roadkeepers for “safe passage.”

This logic was wasted on these numbskulls, and when it became obvious we had no intention to pay their extortion fees they attacked. Things did not go especially well for them and so when Shura offered them a chance to break off their attack and live to see another day they (surprisingly to me) took it.

We continued on our way into the woods following the tracks of the guards through the branching trails. By late afternoon we found them laying at the foot of a large, dead oak. The oak was on a mound that was encircled by a well tended gravel road. Odd. Something glittered from the lower branches, and Jigu said it was a magical item.

We warily approached the three recumbent forms when a bloated zombie like creature stumbled out from around the tree and toward us. We attacked it from a distance and it moved to the other side of the tree. As we pursued it, pressing our attacks, it dove into a hole in the ground and eventually appeared on our side of the road, where we quickly killed it.

My companions thought it was a form of undead that could not cross over roads. This made the circular road with magical trinket in the middle look suspiciously like a fiendish trap. The guards were dead, and they too would turn if they left sight of a road. We left them next to the road and took the amulet that was hanging from the tree (it was a holy symbol of Desna that conferred some special protection from mind control).

We continued into the woods where we came upon an ever increasing number of goblin tracks. We followed these to a clearing and an entrance to a cave in the hillside. There a trio of goblin sentinels attacked us and promptly died.

Jigu and I searched the area for a back entrance while Vlad memorized a new spell, but we found nothing.

There was nothing for it but to head in. As I already mentioned the space was cramped, and dark, and filled with smoke.

A handful of goblins and goblin dogs resisted our attempt to enter, and so we killed some of them before there was a whistle from deeper within and the dogs ran away.

Further in was a roughly circular chamber with a fire burning and there we met more goblin resistance, but after killing most of these guards the survivers fled down a long and narrow passage.

Using magic and just plain stealth two of us (it was hard to tell just who in the smoke and dimness — I know it wasn’t me) crept down the passageway and discovered it opened into a much larger chamber where more goblins waited.

“We’ll need more magic than what we have available today to make it through without being massacred,” Vlad said. We all agreed and have set up camp with a guard watching the cave entrance and a another by the passage leading further in.

Thassilonian Leftovers – Jigu’s stories

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

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

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

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

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.