== Wealday, Erastus 30, 4708; Runeforge; mid day ==

One by one we entered the large circular domed chamber and stepped up onto the dais. Bubbling in the oval pool at our feet was a prismatic liquid that glowed in a maelstrom of different magics.

Curious, I carefully filled a crystal vial with the mysterious fluid only to find it quite clear and mundane — probably just water. It was the pool itself that was so oddly magical.

But we could think of nothing to do here, and so we chose the first hallway to the left of the entryway and gathered about it, clustering behind the statue of Xanderghul, Runelord of pride.

Sabin boldly stepped forward and vanished. And yet the Status spells Kane and I had in effect indicated he was but a few steps away. I followed and found myself standing next to Sabin, and looking back it seemed like the tunnel stretched for a mere sixty feet or so to whence we came. Sabin called back to the others, “It is like a dimensional door, just walk this way.”

One by one the rest of our group came through, some taking a bit longer for unknown reasons to reach us, but in the end we all stood before an opening to a brightly lit room.

As before, Sabin and I stepped through the entryway into the middle of a broad passageway leading to the right and left. The floor was stone, but all of the walls were seamlessly covered in mirrors. Looking to the right we could see our reflections staring back at us, and these were reflected back from the opposite wall behind us, and so on such that it appeared to be a hallway that lead off infinitely into the distance.

And then our reflections stepped out from the mirror! To our left was a pair and to our right another pair. One of my reflections cast a Flame Strike upon me, and the other three figures were likewise chanting words of power.

The real Sabin was caught by a Feeblemind spell, but Avia pulled him back out from the hallway, while I was caught in a wall of blades cast by my other doppelganger.

My companions prepared for combat, but it quickly became apparent that the creatures that crawled out from the mirrors were only interested in attacking their originals, and so for a while it was only Sabin and I that were in danger of direct attacks.

But that did not mean they were immune to area effects, as we found when yet another blade barrier came down into the corridor where they were clustered, and a fireball detonated in their midst.

And yet I did not feel particularly threatened by my mirrored twins. True, they were intent on my destruction, however I knew from personal experience that they lacked the ability to do me any more serious harm than what they had already inflicted. And so I moved into the hallway as the blade barriers came down rather than retreating back to my friends.

I am not a fighter, and I do not possess many offensive spells — on this particular day I had only memorized two spells that could inflict damage, giving my foes a total of four: three of which they had already used. I no longer wield any weapons, and so what more could they do but try and heal me to death?

Those grappling with the duplicate Sabins were not so fortunate. Equipped with both potent offensive spells as well as skillfully wielding a great ax, even one Sabin is a formidable opponent.

The two Sabins used the a Dimension Door to get past the blade barriers and appeared behind my team mates — except for Rigel who had snuck further back down the corridor. Trask had read a scroll of Heal to remove the feebleminded effect plaguing our Sabin.

Nolin and Avia moved in to engage the Sabins and prevent them from casting more spells, while Kane channeled energy to heal everyone in the area and Sabin slashed out at his twins from behind the two fighters.

Meanwhile I approached the mirrored wall to our right, brushing aside the pesky attacks from a reflected self (batting at me with his pack), when the other showed up and cast a Flame Strike that also caught part of the mirrored wall, which shattered. The copy of me that had stepped from that wall shattered as well.

Back in the corridor Trask peppered foes with magic missiles while Nolin and Avia had hacked away at one of the Sabins, which shattered with Avia’s killing blow. Their attention then turned to the remaining Sabin as Rigel crept up from behind and dispatched it.

Trask turned his magic missiles on my remaining twin, who had pulled a dagger out from his pack was stabbing away at me. But this was short lived because Sabin dimension doored to the mirrored wall to the left and shattered it, reducing our remaining opponent to shards.

Sabin and I then proceeded to smash all of the mirrors lining the hallway to prevent duplicates of the others from being created. With that threat removed we followed hallway, the left and right hand ends of which met at the entrance of a truly grand and huge cathedral like space.

Like the hallway before it, the walls were covered with mirrors, but these towered above us some hundred feet, and stretched far away on either side. A large raised dais was in the center of the space, and a giant peacock perched upon it. The bird blinked, and ruffled its feathers from time to time, but ignored us. The floor was made of smooth ivory flagstones.

Four giant gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the light from which was thrown back by the massive mirrored walls, providing a bright, almost harsh illumination.

We had inadvertently split into two groups as we walked in: Sabin, Nolin, Rigel and I to the left, and Avia, Kane and Trask to the right.

Rigel cheerfully called out, “Hello Mister Peacock!,” but it did not answer, and only stared at us impassively with its black beady eyes, which seemed to reflect a great wisdom and intelligence.

And then, from around us, a chorus of voices speaking in ancient Thassilonian mingled in an almost harmonious chant:

The master is in his study, so please contain your screaming while you are punished for entering his sanctuary.

Kane stepped forward and yelled out, “I am tired of waiting!”

A man appeared then, immaculately dressed and groomed with neat shoulder length blond hair, speaking softly. Three fireballs detonated, one in the midst of those of us to the left, one amidst the group on the right, and one centered just on Kane.

Five more men appeared, scattered about us, whispering magical invocations.

Both Kane and Sabin acted as if something was racing towards them, but while Kane appeared to have shrugged it off, Sabin’s private horror wounded him.

Sabin promptly used the dimension door trick to put himself, Nolin, Rigel and I next to a figure standing by the dais. Nolin brutally hacked at it with his greats-word. The man let out a girlish squeal and then burst into a flurry of snow that slumped into a slushy pile on the ground.

Avia ran over to another of the men — they all looked alike — and swiftly reduced it to a pile of snow and slush.

The surviving men took various actions, most defensive, but one sent a bolt of lightening at Nolin.

Sabin and Nolin took out a third, while Rigel killed another.

Trask set off a fireball on top of one figure that had cast Mirror Image on himself, and was rewarded with two puddles of melted snow, having also caught the remaining snow man who had turned invisible.

We turned our attention to the giant peacock and found that it was an illusion, and so we searched the vast complex for secrets. Rigel found a hidden door in the middle of the back wall, which was neither locked nor trapped.

Beyond the door was a comfortable looking room — a library or study — but it smelled as if something had crawled in and died. And so it had. Sitting in a chair next to a table was the remains of a man, slumped over parchment on which he had been writing when he died. Avia said the corpse was evil, but it was just a corpse, and did not animate as we cautiously approached it.

It had been a man — in fact he looked like the creatures we had fought in the cathedral, and so we assumed he had created guardians in his own image. We guessed he had been dead for only a couple of years.

The writing on the parchment was in Thassilonian, and shpowed the man had been working on some form of a very advanced illusion spell.

We stripped the corpse of all items of value, and scanned through his bookshelves for more:

[1140] evil aligned robe: provides +5 AC, 18 SR, and +2 on all class level checks, -3 levels if worn by a good aligned person, -2 levels if worn by a neutral aligned person

[1141] +6 headband of vast intelligence: has 3 specific skill bonuses we have yet to research

[1142] +2 ring of protection

[1143] Cape of the Mountebank [Sabin]

[1144] journal written in draconic

[1145] two volumes of spell books containing every illusion spell listed in the player’s handbook

Sabin scanned through the journal, which identified the dead man as Vraxeris, the runeforge agent of Xanderghul. I scribed the last two entries as Sabin read them out loud.

Vraxeris journal entry:

The runeforge pool awoke! I first took this as a sign that Runelord Xanderghul had risen. When I arrived at the pool to investigate, it seemed that the others had come to the same conclusion. The foolish Wardens of Envy thought to disrupt the recrudescence, and with the aid of Kazaven, Ordikan, Athroxis, and that lovely creature Delvahine, we were able to defeat them utterly. Their Abjurant Halls lie in ruins. Our treaty was short-lived, though. Kazaven absconded with the bodies and that treacherous wench Athroxis nearly burned me to death before I made it back here.

I was mistaken. Runelord Xanderghul still slumbers. It is that monster Karzoug who quickens and nears rebirth. Damnation! He must not be allowed to precede Xanderghul into the world, for he would rebuild Thassilon in his own inferior image, a testament to his own greed rather than one of pride in the work. He must be delayed or defeated!

I have managed to escape this place, to a certain extent. By astral projection I can explore what the world outside has become. It is a brutish place, yet it pleases me to see Thassilon’s mark endures in the shape of our monuments. Still, the wilderness of the world vexes me. Gone is the empire I knew. Karzoug’s city of Xin-Shalast is now hidden high in the mountains, and when I finally discovered it, I found the spires where his body is hidden to be inaccessible, warded against astral travelers by the occlusion field around the peak of Mhar-Massif. As long as his rune-well is active, I fear even a physical approach would be impossibly deadly. I must determine a way to pierce these wardings, and to send an agent in my place. No need to risk my own life before my clone is ready.

Vraxeris journal entry:

I have taken steps toward an alliance with Delvahine. She may be able to escape this place, for she was not of the original blood. At the least, she can call up on agents from outside, and perhaps through them we can secure servants in the outer world. She seems uninterested in Sorshen’s return; all the better for Xanderghul, that.

The runeforge pool is the key. As I suspected, the occlusion field around Karzoug’s fortress in Xin-Shalast has a flaw. His lack of knowledge of the intricacies of Sorshen’s and my own lord Xanderghul’s powers have left an opening. My agents must use components infused with our lords’ virtues, extract the latent magic within these components, and then anoint their chosen weapons with this raw power. The runeforged pool seems to have enough reserves to enhance no more than half a dozen or so runeforged weapons, but those enhanced with enchantment and illusion magic will be most potent against Karzoug’s defenses. They may even be pivotal in his defeat. For my own part, fragments of any of the mirrors in the Peacock’s Hall should suffice for a component. Delvahine’s… equipment… should suffice for enchantment, although one might be wise to cleanse them before they are handled.

The search for an agent goes poorly. Delvahine seems more interested in her own lusts than aiding me. Worse, the lapses and fevers are increasing. I fear that I will be forced to see to Karzoug myself, in which event I will need to use the master circle I built into the Halls of Wrath to escape this place. Yet first, I must set aside my work on delaying Karzoug’s return and turn back to the final development of my 205th clone. I only hope I have time to finish before the dementia takes hold…

There is much here that directly applies to our quest!

We know that the Runelord agents had somehow managed to remain alive in this place for many thousands of years. For Vraxeris this was accomplished by him duplicating himself periodically into a replicant, or as he called it, a “clone.” It would seem sort sort of defect was introduced into the process or his last body was damaged or corrupted corrupted such that he did not have sufficient time to prepare its replacement.

But more important for us was the information concerning Karzoug and the runeforge.

Karzoug began to rise a little more than two years ago.

Karzoug’s fortress is near a peak once called Mhar-Massif.

There are protective wards about his fortress that are still active and deadly as long as his rune well is active. Could it have been the one we deactivated in Sandpoint about a year ago?

Karzoug’s defensive wards hold a flaw where enchantment and illusion magic (Sorshen’s and Xanderghul’s) can be used to get past them.

Weapons can be imbued with special enchantments if the correct ritual is performed and right components used. Such weapons, especially those enhanced with illusion magics, will be most effective against Karzoug and his defenses.

The comments about the different warring factions here within the runeforge reminded me of the corridor on the way in here, where chunks had been blasted out of the wall. Vraxeris journal indicated some of the other runelord agents had been possibly slain, but we could expect to face at least some powerful adversaries while exploring the complex.

A pair of double doors led into another hallway, but other than a room full of skeletons (about 200 of them we guessed) there was nothing of interest.

We returned to the main runeforge chamber, where the quietly bubbling pool now holds special significance for us. We picked up some of the mirror shards from Xanderghul’s chamber, because Vraxeris has mentioned that they were one of the key components for the ritual.

Noting that Vraxeris had formed an alliance with Delvahine, we decided to explore Sorshen’s lair next.

As before, the passageway had a dimensional door style effect that eventually led us to a pair of mighty iron doors, beyond which was another immense interior space.

The area was well lit, and the layout and decoration left little doubt it had been designed for carnal purposes. The floor was alternating red and white polished flagstones, and red and white scrims lined the walls. Columns carved skillfully in the shapes of sensuously posed naked woman held aloft the tall ceiling. In the center was a raised platform, which was curtained off with flowing sheets of red silk.

Most disturbingly iron cages were positioned around the complex: some were, empty, and some held the rotting remains of people.

Someone held captive in one of the cages yet lives! I must go to his aid at once.

One way portal to hell

As I suspected the trip to runeforge was meant to be a one way trip, at least the journal of this dead guy seems to indicate that he has been trying to get out of here for a number of years. Oh but I get ahead of myself. The ingenious mirror trap caught Takkad and I while moving down the hallway of pride. The mirrors created duplicates of both of us near each of the two mirrors. My first thought was to break the mirrors but before I could act or communicate this to Takkad one of my doubles hit me with a feeblemind spell. Everything at that point became somewhat dull “derp” as life suddenly became very black and while. I wasn’t sure who these derping people were at first. It seemed like I should be doing something important but instead I am not sure what I did during this time “derp”. Kane provided the valuable heal spell to break the feeblemind and I was able to function again. After Rigal, Avia, and Nolan dispatch my evil twins I asked Takkad which mirror he had broken and then popped over next to the remaining mirror made sure the one was taken care of as well. I was slightly upset taking out my frustration on the mirrors, besides Takkad and I had to wait 10 to 15 minutes for the blade barriers to expire. After that the rest of the party join as we move into the big room.

An illusionary peacock took center stage in this room until the voices began telling us that we had intruded. They ask that we keep the noise down as they punish us. These magic whatever there are, appeared and began casting fireballs at us.  I was able to use my remaining Dimension door my little group over to the first opponent, Nolan quickly turned him into snow but from somewhere else the lights went dim once again as I was hit with another feeblemind spell. Luckily Takkad was able to correct it this time. I think the one that hit me with feeblemind tried to go invisible but that did not help as Trask hit the last two with fireball turning them into warm water. I was really happy to see these derping creatures turned into snow? Not exactly sure why they turned into snow! I feel cheated out of making sure they were dead and seeing there blood on the floor.

We found the door to the library with the body Vraxeris sitting in the chair with his journal open.  The journal discusses that fact that these people down here were not that long ago trying to figure out which of the 7 runelords nears rebirth. Surprise surprise it is Karzoug that is near rebirth. The journal discussed using runeforge pool to enchant weapons that would be most potent against Karzoug’s defenses.  This is very interesting. Most importantly he was trying to work on an alliance with Delvahine as he thought that she could get out of here because “she was not of the original blood”. Not sure what that means but at least it is a start. We also learned that Vraxeris was using clones to keep himself alive, looks like the last batch of clones did not complete before he died.

The reading of some of the passage was painful, not that it was hard to read but that I had to stop and re-read it slowly a couple of time while Takkad transcribe some of the passages word for word.  For a moment I consider scribbling these passages on the walls in Orc but why bother. This took some time and in the mean time the other search through stuff.

Vraxeris had a few items on him that were interesting. Cape of the Mountebank is a pretty cool cape but I am now used to taking my special friends with me on jumps though space. +6 headband of vast intelligence is the ideal item for a wizard and provides some benefits over the robe. The headband could actually be useful for a number of party members while the robe is only basically useful for me or Takkad, Kane isn’t big enough to wear this robe. The spellbooks provide all of the illusion spells that are known to me.

Given what we learned from the journal we decided to explore Sorshen’s lair next. This should be interesting.

Toilday, Erastus 8

Since we still were concerned about the magic in what we’d come to call the Quill Room, I tried a dispel magic. It was a little odd, casting it on the whole room, but as near as I can tell, it did nothing anyway. I didn’t feel like I’d done my best, so I tried again and we discovered the evil aura of the room had disappeared. Did I dispel something, or did some spell just end of its own accord? You never know for sure with dispel, but having the evil gone made everyone feel better, and we felt like we could safely pick up the magical quill. To be on the safe side, Takkad did that but with an unseen servant rather than an actual hand.

Takkad noted that the image on the floor in the cathedral was both offensive and magical. He tried a dispel on it, but it was ineffective. He muttered something about Lamashtu and Father Xanthus and “not on my watch”. I suspect there is more he intends to do here.

But for now, we are down on spells, and we have a body of a Sandpoint guardsman to repatriate. We picked up some things Scribbler would no longer have a use for:

a cloak of +2 charisma [1012]
a +1 breastplate [1013]
a +1 returning dagger of cold iron [1014]
a peacock quill, radiating very strong divination magic [1016]
17 vials of ink (8 black, 2 blue, 2 red, 1 violet, 1 yellow, 1 green,
1 brown, 1 pink) [1015]
falchion (broken by Nolin)
bag of diamond dust (750gp)

Returning to the surface, we consulted with Father Xanthus and he agreed to help with the cleansing of the cathedrala We decided to make camp next to the pit to make certain nothing crawled out overnight (and that nobody tried to sneak in.).

Wealday, Erastus 9

Returning to the rooms below, we discovered that today, all the foggy rooms were gone. Apparently that was the result of a spell with a duration of 24 hours or less, probably maintained by Scribbler. Sabin used an erase spell to erase one writing of Scribbler, leaving only about five thousand more.

Nolin and Avia started smashing statues. Meanwhile others of us went back into the pool room. The pool is incredibly clean (and Xanthus comments upon this.) How clean? I decided to find out, ignoring the horrified looks of my companions. How bad could it be? Well, it did make me feel sick, despite its cleanliness, but I threw up back into the pool as that seemed most appropriate.

NOW someone tried a detect evil and found the water was evil. It was probably unholy water.

Kane tried consecrating the water; nothing.
Kane tried dispel evil on the water; nothing.
Takkad tried a greater dispel magic; nothing.

Takkad decided to vent his frustration on the jackal on the floor by using 4 stone shapes to significantly deface the image.

Kane deformed the pool, thinking it might disrupt whatever magic was there. And it seems it did. We concluded that it was the pool that was magical, not what was in it, and now the pool was ‘broken’.

Sabin kept erasing scribblings. Dogged, he was. But don’t say “dogged” around him; he might take it as an insult. Or worse, a compliment. In short order, all of the “important” (that is, ones that made a modicum of sense) were erased so that nobody else could read them in the future.

Takkad, meanwhile, was inspecting the hole that led to the surface and the cave-in beneath it. He concluded that with some skillful stone shaping, and judicious walls of stone, the structure underneath could again support the street above – possibly even better than the old street. He began the work here, but it would take another day’s worth of spells before he and Kane would finish. When they were done, the street above was solidly replaced and supported.

There aren’t a lot of clerical architects out there.

Starday, Erastus 12

When all of the scouring, erasing, shaping, and conjuring was done, the Square of the Four Watchers was christened. Four statues were placed above; one each for Desna, Sarenrae, Pharasma, and one guardsman from the garrison (fashioned after the one remaining corpse with recognizable features).

Meanwhile, below, our clerics and Father Xanthus’ army of sacred sandblasters turned what used to be a sacred area for Lamashtu into a harmless empty room that only held bad memories, and that only for us and the souls lost here. In time, it may be consecrated to some other deity, but for now, all are happy that it is NOT welcoming to Lamashtu.

A wall with a stoutly built and locked door was added to make the whole area nearly inaccessible except by force. (The locked door is only accessible from the garrison!)

And this too was the day when we helped bring to fruition an utterance of Rallo – a random statement we’d thought had been made in jest, or perhaps in frustration or even fear, but no. Rallo had seen Death close up and decided he was not willing to stare it down again. He will eventually, of course – we all do – but not in the wild, not in the battlefield.

Rallo has retired (if you can call running a magic shop a form of retirement.) As a group, we decided to help fund his setup, and in return he has said he will make items for us for only 10% over cost. We also will give him first option on any of the magic items we eventually decide to sell. It is not an avocation without risk, but the risk lies in a business failing rather than his life being lost. Rallo was often the most impetuous among us, which makes this comparatively conservative move all the more surprising, but it’s a decision each must make for themselves.

It made me think of you, Father – why did you decide to settle down and stop living from the road and reaping the rewards of such a life? When should I? I’ve lived a much shorter life than you did before you stopped, but I feel the last year has been .. comparatively rich in experiences. I’m but 18, but am I already living on borrowed time? Perhaps sometime when there is more time, I will teleport home and have that talk with you.

But not now. Tomorrow we will head to the ancient library to research more about the Runeforge: its legend, its power, and its use. Karzoug seems to be intent on bending it to his use in this modern day and we must find out how to stop him.

Moonday, Erastus 14

Information of the Runeforge was sparse, even from the mechanized servant available to us. Runeforge was not an object, but a place, and it was created to be a neutral place where acolytes of all the Rune Lords could study and research magic. Because of the danger of any one Rune Lord gaining access to this kind of research, the exact location was intentionally vague and secretive, and although students of all the Lords would attend there, while there they were, in theory, without allegiance.

To insure this, they were enrolled in this magical university for life. Once you checked in, only death was your way out. Mistrusting each other, the Rune Lords themselves created wards and barriers to prevent them from entering, or having agents or minions enter. Presumably all that flowed from the studies was somehow made available to all simultaneously, or never. It is not clear to me how the establishment of this hall of knowledge would benefit them without some clear way of getting output from it, but perhaps we will learn more as we study.

We found vague references to one of the last projects being undertaken at Runeforge before the empire apparently fell. The Rune Lords were seeking some method of transcending and eluding Death itself. Even limited successes in this area of study might explain the apparent vitality of some portion of Karzoug (or perhaps we’ll find, other Rune Lords).

After days of research – and we’re talking everyone who could read ancient Thasselonian, which is most of the group – we were able to discern only that Runeforge was up in the mountains, perhaps the Kodar to the north. But there were tens of peaks there and we needed more information.

Takkad was able to uncover information about a commander named Xaliasa, who, it appears, commanded the ‘Hellfire Plume’ that seems to have been located just outside Sandpoint. Xaliasa may have been double dipping and trying to serve two Rune Lords, but ultimately proved loyal to Alasnist.

Upon saying this out loud, Takkad got a strange look on his face and immediately sought out the pieces of the broken falchion, and Scribbler’s dagger that I had claimed. There was inscribed ‘Xaliasa’. Scribbler and Xaliasa were one and the same. It appears at least one principal from the past had been able to either cheat or prolong death.

It also suggested his cryptic scribblings were credible (if we could but understand them properly.)

Giving those notes a bit more weight and with some help from our mechanical librarian, we were able to identfy a likely peak in the Kodar range as the ancient Mt Xin: Rimeskull. Armed with a modern name, Takkad thought we might find more information from travellers societies and churches than from ancient manuscripts, so we are planning a little trip to Magnimar tomorrow.

I saw Takkad playing with the magical quill, trying to figure out why it was magical. I don’t believe I’ve seen Takkad look frustrated very often, but clearly that quill vexes him.

Toilday, Erastus 15

So Sabin and I took Nolin and Takkad to Magnimar via teleport. We quickly went in four different directions, as Takkad wanted to find out more about that mountain peak, Nolin was off to visit his parents, and Sabin went to buy more spell components. I decided I wanted a good cloak of resistance, fearing that we would run into more magic users who would attempt more charm or other magic upon me.

I found a shop that had a rather poor looking one, and the shopkeep tried to overcharge me for a lesser powered cloak. I went looking elsewhere, but even in a city the size of Magnimar, the number of shops selling something like that are limited.

During this search, however, a man approached me quietly and suggested he might have access to the cloak I was looking for. I was naturally suspicious, since at the time I was near the Underbridge and many transactions there have … strings attached. The man told me some story about his uncle dying or somesuch and I was worried that a) I might be buying stolen goods, or b) I might be set up to just have my money stolen.

I told him I would like to see it but if it was all he said it was I’d be interested. We haggled about a price and ultimately settled on something between 6000 and 7000gp, the exact amount to be determined after inspecting it. We agreed to meet again in an hour.

I’m no Rigel, but I followed him after our meeting and he seemed to head to a brothel and disappear within. How would I know if I was being cheated? I could tell magically if the cloak was not what I expected but would I be able to tell if he were lying about any part of his story? It occurred to me that Rigel might be able to help, and come to think of it so might Kane. I teleported back to the library and brought not just Rigel and Kane, but Avia back with me.

And that turned out to be of very little help at all. Avia and Kane found it humorous that we went and staked out a brothel, while Rigel didn’t understand at all my concern about whether the man had legitimate ownership of the cloak. In fact, she suggested we could improve the price considerably, given that we were now four versus one. I was against that, and I did see Avia knit her eyebrows a bit, but Kane was all for it.

Anyway, the man came out, we met at the agreed upon place, and Rigel, Kane, and Avia surreptitiously came along to make sure he did not bring friends. He did not, but when I started questioning more about the origins, the price started coming down. Sigh. My guess was the cloak was not his, but I had no actual proof of that, nor could I possibly discern who it had come from. We eventually settled on 5300gp, and I had a smart looking cloak with a little silver (thread) trim. And I had Rigel, Kane, and even Avia who found my negotiating tactics and priorities to be odd. And all they could talk about was how did I find a man in a brothel with a cloak, completely ignoring the earlier part of my story where I mentioned how I’d actually met him.

We met up with Takkad and the others, and it turns out everybody had a good trip to Magnimar. I got my cloak, Sabin got his components, and perhaps most importantly, Takkad got his information from the Pathfinder Society. Apparently Rimeskull had not been visited in dozens of years, but there were rumors of a white dragon, and although people (including soldiers) had gone to check it out, nobody had ever returned. Yup, that sounds like where we need to go. We won’t be able to teleport (initially) but once Sabin and I have visited it once, we won’t need to trek. The first time, however …

Seems like we will be starting a trip soon..

Fireday, Erastus 25

It seems there was more research to do before leaving, so my prediction of a trip was not inaccurate but definitely in the wrong timeframe. It looks like we’ll be leaving tomorrow, and Takkad has a spell called Wind Walk which means the journey need not be arduous and lengthy at all.

One of the things we were waiting for was for Kane to finish creating his set of wands: a wand of erase, a wand of lesser restoration, a wand of knock, and a wand of protection from evil.

Starday, Erastus 26

Wind Walk meant we could travel at the speed of the wind, which was much much faster than even horses. It only took about 4 hours. I may look into this spell but I fear it might be clerical only.

When we got there, we knew we were at the right place. There was a huge head carved into the side of the mountain, and even more telling, there was a plateau below that had seven other huge heads. Seven Rune Lords? There was no sign of a white dragon.

We did detect magic on the heads, and they were indeed magical .. but interestingly each emanated magic from a different school. As an experiment, I used Mage Hand to put a rock in the mouth of the figure representing Karzoug. There was a loud thrum and a key appeared in the mouth .. even before I could put the rock in it. I claimed the key.

Takkad suggested maybe a spell from each school cast at or near the appropriate statue might yield similar results. The mages and clerics stepped up and did that, and as we pulled the last key from the last mouth, Rigel yelled, “Dragon!”.

And indeed there was. White dragon. Likes cold. Should hate fire! I fireballed it … but it seemed to have little effect. Then it returned the favor with an icy cold blast which brought several of us far closer to death than we cared.

Kane set about healing us, while I tried another fireball. Surprise (or maybe not) – the dragon appeared to have magic resistance too, and the fireball had zero effect on it. Rigel fired an arrow at it which, by rights, sure should have hit it but it seemed to pass through it. Instead of flying by again, the dragon dropped down and grabbed Rigel in its mouth! Avia, Nolin and Sabin did the dimension door trick to get right next to it, but were having an uncanny problem just laying a weapon to it.

Suspicious, Takkad cast greater dispel at it and suddenly it seemed mildly startled and it seemed to snap into place. Displacement! And I’ll bet fire protection too. Takkad did another dispel and suddenly the fireballs started to hurt it, and the swords started to draw blood. The dragon had long ago spit out Rigel to deal with the fighters and it roared angrily now. Abruptly it pulled back, seemed to say something, and it disappeared. Perhaps it too knew dimension door.

We decided that although we could fully heal ourselves, we would probably want to have more of our spells available before confronting the dragon. So we teleported back to Sandpoint, but then we reconsidered. We needed more information about the cavern into which we expected we’d need to enter.

Quickly Sabin and I returned (I was protection, just in case something went amiss) and Sabin deployed an arcane eye. Using the eye and Sabin’s night vision, he was able to scout the way into the cavern. There were some statues about 40 or 50 feet in, and of course there was a protective barrier of what looked like freezing fog in the outer part of the cavern. About a hundred feet past the statues, a great hole gaped. Apparently at that point, we needed to go down — maybe feather fall or fly or something. The cavern was huge here; easily a hundred feet wide.

As the arcane eye went 300 ft down, Sabin found that there was a floor and the floor had (surprise) seven statues. More interesting was the dragon had its lair down there, and was resting upon it, searching for potions among its treasures and gulping them. No doubt healing itself.

We returned to Sandpoint and Sabin relayed what he had seen. Yes, we definitely wanted to rest and buff up, but we could also now lay in a bit of a strategy. But we realized there was a tremendous advantage if we could simply teleport to the point of battle. One problem: I hadn’t seen any of what Sabin had seen, so I had no point of reference.

So we returned once more, and Takkad cast True Seeing on me so I could see through the dark. We all became wisps of wind again (wind walk had not worn off) andin this semi-invisible state, Sabin and I went off to explore.

The nice thing was that with True Seeing I not only got darkness, I got to see through illusions too. And so I was able to discern that the statues were just that — nothing to be concerned about. I was also able to discern a hidden but tiny path leading around the edge of the great pit, so that dropping in wasn’t the only option.

The dragon wasn’t there now. so we spent some time trying to look over the hoard. It was tempting to take some things now but the dragon would undoubtedly note that things were missing, and we might even get caught, and we felt the element of surprise would still be very handy.

We returned to Takkad and all teleported back to Sandpoint. We came up with a plan knowing, this time, that the dragon would likely have enchantments we’d need to dispel before our fighters (or spells, for that matter) could be effective. We also split the group into two groups, each with a person capable of teleport, as our escape plan if things did not go well. We agreed to collect some cold weather gear, and rested. This would not be Longtooth. This dragon was bigger.

Sunday, Erastus 27

We awoke, had a good breakfast, and went off to kill the dragon. Funny how there was no talk of discussing anything with it this time. I think people grew tired of Longtooth’s conversations pretty fast last time. We cast our protections and enhancements that were not of short duration and teleported directly to the hoard.

The dragon was not there.

Sabin used a Locate Creature scroll to monitor for the approach of the dragon. The rest of us started to pull magic things out of the treasure, possibly for immediate use.

We got to do a good minute or two of ransacking before Sabin announced, “Dragon coming, that way.” And he pointed at a corridor.

I decided it would be amusing to see the dragon get frustrated very quickly. So I threw a wall of force over the entrance to that corridor. And only moments later, a small blizzard occurred in that corridor that was, yet, contained within that corridor. As our party gaped, I said, “wall of force. He’ll have to dimension do–“.

And he dimension doored.

Takkad had to take a dragon bite before casting his greater dispel, but just like before, the dragon snapped into position a few feet from where he’d appeared just moments ago. No more displacement! And he seemed really annoyed by the fire. And the fighters really beat him up. And he was really bleeding. And he was really dying. Amazing what you can kill if you have time to prepare.

So he left us again, but this time Sabin (through locate creature) was able to tell us immediately, “He’s down that corridor,” meaning the one he’d appeared from. I dropped the wall of force and we all ran after him.

And although he was able to give Avia a good bite, and to get one more good icy breath on us, by having gotten to him when he was badly wounded, it took only a few well-aimed swings from our fighters to take him out. Wiping the dragon spit off her body, Avia seemed quite pleased to slice off its head (which seems to be our calling card these days.)

And that was that. One dead, ancient white dragon. What do you think about THAT, Father? WOW.

There was, of course, a LOT of treasure he had collected over the years, but I will detail that some more tomorrow. We spent a lot of time poring over and collecting it. I’m feeling a little giddy; there’s not just money but some pretty interesting magic stuff too.

== Starday, Erastus 26, 4708; Sandpoint; evening ==

Shortly after returning to Sandpoint we decided a trip to reconnoiter the dragon’s lair was in order. We wanted to know what we would be facing in the cave on ancient Mt Xin in addition to the dragon.

Trask and Sabin teleported up to the plateau, and from there Sabin sent an Arcane Eye through the mouth of the skull carved into the mountain’s side.

The entrance was large, and the floor, walls and ceiling cut smooth in the surrounding rock, with the sihedron star and Thassilonian runes tracing across the giant archway above the entrance.

For some forty feet in a thick freezing fog blocked all sight, and beyond that a huge natural cavern stretched back into the depths. Icicles hung from the ceiling, while a rime of thick frost covered the floor. Around a broad jog to the left a pair of twelve foot high stone statues stood guard, each with one hand upheld palm outward and the other grasping a sword.

Perhaps a hundred feet after the statues the floor vanished ended in a circular pit, nearly a hundred feet in diameter. Plunging down some three hundred feet the eye found that the cavern increased in size to around one hundred and fifty feet in breadth. As above, everything down here was coated in frost and ice.

Seven pillars twenty feet tall formed a ring around the chamber, and eight passageways led off in different directions. In the center of the circle was a giant pillar easily twice as tall as the others, and narrowing to a pointy top. All of the pillars radiated magic, and each was festooned with a different set of runes.

To the northwest, piled high against the wall between two of the pillars was an enormous pile of coins, wands, armor, weapons, and a wide variety of other loot. And perched upon this treasure trove was the white dragon. A half a dozen empty vials lay at his feet, and he scrabbled about the pile frantically searching. Every now and then he would find another vial, then pop the cork and gulp down its contents. No doubt the beast was healing itself from the damage we had inflicted earlier that day.

The eye expired soon after, and Sabin and Trask returned to Sandpoint.

None of us fancied a long trek through the dark and icy cavern only to be faced with a drop of fifty fathoms to get to the dragon, and so teleport was our best option. But thus far only Sabin had seen the dragon’s layer, and it would require both he and Trask to transport the entire party.

Trask needed to see where he was teleporting to beforehand. There were two problems with this: first Trask did not know the Arcane Eye spell, and second he could not see in the dark, as Sabin could. Fortunately the Wind Walk spell I had cast earlier was still in effect, and I had prepared a True Seeing spell for the day.

And so a short while later Trask, Sabin and I returned to the plateau. Once there I cast True Seeing on Trask, and then we all assumed a gaseous form granted by Wind Walk. Trask and Sabin then sped off into the cave while I remained behind.

A big advantage to True Seeing is that in addition to granting the ability to see in the dark, it also sees through illusions and reveals things that are magically concealed. Trask found that the two stone statues, which we feared might be golems, were only illusions. What’s more, behind the statue on the left was an invisible narrow shelf that led straight to the drop, and then clinging to the wall spiraled down all the way to the bottom. Useful to know.

The dragon was no longer on his horde, and so Trask took the opportunity to circle the chamber searching for magical wards or traps, but he found none. Sabin spent a short time looking at the treasure, noting a variety of items that shone with a bright magical aura.

Presently the two returned back to the plateau before the seeing spell expired, and we teleported back to Sandpoint.

We then spent the next few hours planning our assault on the dragon. Nolin suggested that we get extra warm clothing and spiked boots to prevent slipping on the ice. He also recommended we find a scroll of Locate Creature, so if the dragon was not in when we arrived, we would know when it approached to within several hundred feet of us, and from which direction. The local cobbler provided the boots, and The Feathered Serpent provided the scroll.

We also developed an alternate plan. If the dragon was not at home, we would begin to pilfer the magical items from his vast pile of loot. In this way we hoped to remove his source of healing, and also any magical items he might use against us. And so we emptied our bags of holding and haversacks of all but the most essential items.

With these preparations in place we turned to protective magic and general tactics to be used during the encounter.

For magic, Trask, Kane and I would provide the protection and resistance to cold for the party. Our primary concern after that was removing the dragon’s magical defenses, and so we would begin the skirmish by casting dispel spells against the dragon until our fighters could hit the thing and our fire spells burned it, or we exhausted our supply of dispels (whichever came first).

After that Trask and Sabin would blast it with fireballs, while Kane and I provided healing.

The fighters would of course keep the creature engaged and away from the spell casters, while Rigel peppered it with arrows and kept a steady watch for any unexpected arrivals.

And now for a good night’s sleep, if I can sleep.

== Sunday, Erastus 27, 4708; Mt Xin; morning ==

After an early breakfast we began the day by casting our protective spells and organizing ourselves into two teleportation parties (Sabin, Avia and I in one; Trask, Nolin, Kane and Rigel in the other) teleported directly to the bottom of the pit. We had our ever burning torches out and glowing, and in the dim light it was obvious that the dragon was not there.

Sabin used the Locate Creature scroll and kept watch while the rest of us implemented our alternate plan. Using Detect Magic we identified and gathered the most useful and valuable looking items we could see (and reach).

I made a great deal of noise to lure the dragon in, in case it was within earshot, but as it was we had nearly a minute to collect valuables before Sabin called out, “the dragon is coming,” and pointed at the passageway from which the monster would emerge. The rest of us spread out and prepared for battle.

Soon thereafter a fierce blizzard appeared at the end of corridor, but it seemed to be contained to that passageway. Behind me I heard Trask snicker, “Wall of force.”

The next moment there was a dragon standing next to me. Kane cast Prayer as I moved back, receiving a painful bite in the process, before casting Greater Dispel upon it. Immediately it shifted three feet to the right of where it appeared to have been.

Sabin used his now familiar Dimensional Door trick to take himself and Nolin right next to our opponent, as Avia charged in. Nolin struck it hard, eliciting a howl of pain, as Trask hit its backside with a fireball. Kane used Dispel Magic against it, and the dragon mauled Nolin, then clawed at Avia and Sabin.

I used another Greater Dispel on it, and Sabin stepped back and blasted it with a fireball. This blast obviously hurt and the dragon screamed in pain and rage.

After a few more well placed fireballs and well landed hits the dragon was looking seriously wounded, but it stepped back and vanished, just as it had done yesterday.

Sabin called out, “He’s back down the passage from which he came,” and Trask dropped his wall of force.

I raced in as fast as I could run and stumbled into a chamber, where the dragon was crouched in a corner mumbling words beneath its breath. I had just enough breath left to shout, “The dragon is right here!”

The next moment Sabin, Nolin and Avia blinked in next to me and engaged the dragon. The beast then grabbed Avia in its jaws, but after a brief struggle she broke free. Nolin hit it hard, opening up a gash on its side.

And then Trask did something odd, he breathed fire on the dragon! We all knew Trask had a thing about fire, and had some sort of odd lineage that involved a red dragon (somehow), but this was a bit of a shock to us, and I imagine to the dragon as well.

The dragon returned the favor by breathing a cold blast at us, but we were well prepared, and it did no damage.

I cast Dimensional Anchor on the creature to prevent it from escaping, and Avia killed it with a mighty blow, nearly slicing its head off in the process. She finished the job, and removed the head while calmly saying, “Just in case.”

I almost felt sorry for the poor creature. It was an ancient dragon who had lived a long life fending for itself up hear in the frigid wilds. It was unfortunate that it chose to live at the entrance to where we needed to go — that plus all of the innocent people it had slain over its long life put an end to any real sympathy I might have had for it.

We returned to the circular chamber and took inventory of the horde — both what we had already gathered as well as what remained piled upon the floor.

Coinage:

500 cp
19,410 sp
7,000 gp
950 pp

18,446 gp total value

Items:

[1100] scroll: Globe of Invulnerability
[1101] Belt of +4 giant strength
[1102] potion: Cure Serious Wounds
[1103] potion: Cure Serious Wounds
[1104] potion: Cure Serious Wounds
[1105] wand: Cure Light Wounds (46 charges)
[1106] 1st level Perl of Power
[1107] +3 Cloak of Resistance
[1108] scroll: Remove Blindness/Deafness
[1109] 6 vials of holy water
[1110] 17 potions Cure Light Wounds
[1111] scroll: Heal
[1112] quiver of 20 masterwork arrows
[1113] 2 arrows of Greater Dragon Slaying
[1114] teak box with felt cushion holding 6 thunder-stones
[1115] chime of opening (5 charges)
[1116] potion: Cure Moderate Wounds
[1117] potion: Cure Moderate Wounds
[1118] wand: Bear’s Endurance (38 charges)
[1119] +3 half plate with wolf motif
[1120] ivory set of +1 bracers of archery
[1121] ever-burning torch
[1122] potion: Resist Energy
[1123] potion: Resist Energy
[1124] ever-burning torch
[1125] Flame Tongue (flaming burst longs-word)
[1126] potion: Cure Moderate Wounds
[1127] potion: Cure Moderate Wounds
[1128] potion: Cure Moderate Wounds
[1129] ever-burning torch
[1130] ever-burning torch
[1131] ever-burning torch
[1132] ever-burning torch
[1133] Dark wood buckler
[1134] masterwork full plate
[1135] +1 mithral shirt (small)
[1136] +1 mithral shirt (small)
[1137] +1 adamantine war-hammer

Tapestries, furnishings, gems and other items worth about 26,000 gp

It took the remainder of the day to identify, catalogue, and estimate values for the horde, and we knew it would take a couple of days to safely transport it all to a safe location.

We gathered the bulk of the magical items plus some of the gems and coins and returned to the library complex, which we are using as our headquarters. Once we have gathered everything here we will need to decide what to keep and what to sell. After seeing which of the latter Rarallo might want to buy, we will need to return to Magnimar (or some other large city) to sell the rest of it.

== Moonday, Erastus 28, 4708; Monastic Library; evening ==

A few of us spent time away from hauling loot to search the chambers and study the pillars in more detail.

The pillars all have auras of conjuration, and for each of the seven a small keyhole is on the inward facing side, and engraved runes identify its associated rune-lord.

The position of each rune-lord’s pillar to one another was the same as with the circle of stone heads on the plateau, and looking at the drawn images we have of the sihedron rune, it is obvious this order comes from the position of each ray of the seven sided star.

== Toilday, Erastus 29, 4708; Monastic Library; evening ==

We have gathered the all of the dragon’s treasure here, but still need to decide what to keep and what to sell. Some of these items we will put to use right away, for tomorrow we return to Mt Xin to try and enter the runeforge.

== Wealday, Erastus 30, 4708; Runeforge; mid morning ==

We appeared on the plateau at the foot of Mt Xin with the appropriate set of low level spells prepared, and obtained each of the keys. This time no dragon appeared.

And because there were seven of us and we had seven keys, we handed them out based upon a rough estimate of who represented each vice.

Rigel: greed.
Kane: gluttony.
Nolin: wrath.
Avia: pride.
Trask: lust.
Takkad: envy.
Sabin: sloth.

Sabin simply wound up with the remaining key — he is hardly representative of sloth.

With the keys firmly in hand we climbed up the steps toward the mouth of the cave. A steep precipitous drop was on our right, while the mountain loomed high upon our left.

As we approached the top we could see the last step was beneath the mighty archway, upon which was carved the seven rayed sihedron star. Bones were piled all around.

But before we could pass beneath the arch, three giant earth elementals rose up from the ground: two before us and one behind.

I asked, in Terran, what they wanted, to which the replied, “None but the appointed may enter. Begone!”

Avia, who was bringing up the rear, turned to face an elemental and commanded, in Thassilonian, that it stand aside and let her pass. The elemental made a gesture with its fists and stood aside!

Nolin then tried to do the same with an elemental in front, but it struck him!

What was the difference? Avia was openly wearing the sihedron medallion.

Kane, who had taken our second medallion from Derrel some weeks before when we properly laid him to rest in the frozen crypt in the Black Tower, stepped forward and repeated the demand. The elementals saluted and stepped aside.

Using the medallions we were able to shuttle each of us past the stony guardians and enter the cavern.

The frozen fog was gone, but it was still bitter cold, and the floor still covered in thick ice. We thanked Nolin for the foresight to bring spiked boots and marched past the statues, climbed upon the invisible ledge, and made our way down to the circular chamber at the bottom of the pit.

And then with each of us standing at the appropriate pillar for our key, we inserted the keys and turned them. At the second rotation each pillar glowed with its own color of light, which sprang out toward the central pillar.

As all the different colors of light struck the pillar, they combined to become pure white light.

A vortex appeared above the pillar, and then turned onto its side. Looking into the maelstrom we could see a ten foot wide passage leading off toward a glow of multi-colored light in the distance.

We passed through the portal and walked a short distance down a hall of smooth marble, which opened onto a large circular chamber with a tall domed ceiling. Etched into the floor was an enormous seven sided sihedron star, and at the end of each ray was a giant statue of a rune-lord facing inward with its back ten feet from the wall. And behind each statue was another passageway.

In the center of the circular chamber was a pool set in a raised dais, and within the pool a liquid bubbled thickly, and glimmered with a prismatic flickering of light. The pool or the liquid were very magical, although the statues were not.

Once again the order of the rune-lords around the circle was the same as what we had encountered before.

It is time to move forward and search for what we came here to find: some means by which we can defeat Karzoug.

== Toilday, Erastus 8, 4708; Sandpoint; evening ==

With the Scribbler dead we were able to explore and search the underground chambers more thoroughly, and without fear of hostile interruption. We took possession of the useful items the Scribbler had been wearing or carrying and returned to the doorway of the quill room, but not before Sabin took the head of the Scribbler and repeatedly bashed it against the wall until gore and grey matter were splattered about the place.

bag of diamond dust (750gp)

broken falchion

[1012] Cloak of Alluring Charisma +2 (highly decorative with intricate silvery trim)

[1013] +1 breastplate

[1014] +1 cold iron returning dagger

Trask cast Dispel Magic to remove the magical ward from the quill room, after which Sabin and I entered and carefully put the peacock feather quill into a silk sack I had prepared for it using an unseen servant, and the vials of ink in a bag of holding, along with the body of the deceased Sandpoint guardsman.

The vials of ink were regular ink of various colors, but the quill radiated an almost blinding aura of divination magic, the purpose of which we could not fathom.

[1015] vials of ink: 8 black, 1 violet, 2 blue, 2 red, 1 yellow, 1 green, 1 brown, 1 pink

[1016] quill made of a peacock tail feather and a bone nib. Excellent quality and condition. Radiates overwhelming divination magic

For the rest of the complex, we found nothing new, although the room with the magical well of water fascinated us, and so we decided to return to the surface to inform father Zantus about the Temple to Lamashtu, which needed to be dealt with, and to gather a few items with which to “test the waters” of the mysterious well.

Kane and I approached the good cleric of Desna with what we had found.

“Father Zantus, we have discovered the source of Sandpoint’s most recent affliction: the earthquake uncovered a Temple of Lamashtu, the damned. Apparently it also triggered the appearance of one of her followers, and it was he who was responsible for summoning Shadow Mastiffs, which you all heard howling. We have slain this guardian, and killed all of the damnable hounds and dogs, devils and daemons he summoned; however the temple itself remains largely intact. We would like your aid tomorrow in removing the influence of Lamashtu. We realize that the town of Sandpoint, including the cathedral, has been through extremely difficult times over the past year, and if the cost of our proposed procedures is a burden, then some of us will gladly cover the costs of dealing with the temple.”

Zantus was extremely concerned, and agreed to come the next morning with us to cleanse the temple.

We returned to the well room and tried dropping in various items, ranging from a copper coin, to a twig of a living plant, to bits of gore and brain from the Scribbler. We even tried to dispel the magic of the well, but nothing we tried affected it in the least.

We have setup camp in the cell next to the pit to ensure nothing crawls out (or in) overnight.

== Wealday, Erastus 9, 4708; Sandpoint, The Rusty Dragon; evening ==

Before Father Zantus and his associates arrived, we returned to the complex and magically removed the runeforge rhyme visible in the temple area. We had decided that it would be best if others did not learn of the runeforge and try to seek it out, endangering themselves, and possibly our eventual quest (as seems likely) to this mythical, magical place.

Father Zantus arrived with his acolytes, and determined that all we really needed to do with the temple was remove the symbols and statuary of Lamashtu.

I used Stone Shape spells to remove most of the three headed jackal symbol that had been engraved in the floor, while Avia and Nolin set to work dismembering and reducing to rubble the statues of Lamashtu that sat in the alcoves.

We then took Father Zantus to the well room, where he scooped up a handful of water and sniffed it suspiciously. He noted how odd it was that the water seemed unusually clear, even with the stuff we had tossed in yesterday still sitting at the bottom.

For some reason Trask then dipped his hand in the water and drank from it! He coughed and sputtered for a moment before vomiting what he had drank (along with everything he had eaten for breakfast) into the well. He said it was the most horrid stuff he had ever tasted, and that he felt ill.

Rather than pursue how many other unusual things Trask might have eaten in his short life with which he was drawing the comparison, we used Detect Evil and noted that the water itself was evil. Unholy Water!

Kane made efficient use of Stone Shape to crack open the well, drain the water, and break the enchantment that refilled the pool with its evil contents.

We returned to the temple chambers to find that Avia and Nolin had moved on from destroying the statues to carving up the double doors that also held the symbol of Lamashtu.

With that work out of the way, Sabin and Kane walked about the rest of the level removing the remaining rhymes about the runeforge.

I had given some thought about what to do about the sink hole that was still blocking two of the major thoroughfares of the town, and asked Mayor Devlin, Sheriff Hemlock, and Father Zantus about it. I told them they could completely fill in the hole with rubble and stone, or Kane and I could use multiple castings of Wall of Stone to dome over the pit, restoring the surface roads to better than original shape over the course of a couple of days.

The town gratefully accepted our offer, which we will begin tomorrow.

And tonight we are back to sleeping in comfortable beds at the inn!

== Starday, Erastus 12, 4708; Sandpoint, The Rusty Dragon; evening ==

We have completed our work in securing the Sandpoint sink hole, and in its place now sits the Square of the Four Watchers. In addition to the stone work we created to seal up the pit, Kane, Avia and I commissioned skilled artists to erect statues of Desna, Sarenrae and Pharasma at three of the corners of the square, looking out protectively over the area. A fourth statue in the shape of a guardsman (using the image of the fallen guard whose body we had recovered from the quill room) was also commissioned to look out from the corner occupied by the town garrison.

Sheriff Hemlock and Father Zantus have ordered a stone wall be constructed beneath the street level, in the garrison cell, blocking off underground access to the ruins, but a vault door will be placed in the wall, in case there is ever a need to revisit this dismal place.

Kane and Sabin spent much of the last few days erasing as many of the writings on the wall left by the Scribbler as possible. They also used a clever combination of stone to mud, combined with create water (I lent a hand here) to remove any trace of the three headed jackal symbol in the floor that still remained.

We have also set up Rarallo in a magic shop of his own here in town. We sold an unused magical item (a highly enchanted short spear), and used the proceeds to purchase a store front, with workshop in the back and living quarters above, along with more than enough supplies and inventory to see him started in his new line of work.

We also forged an agreement whereby he would construct magical items for us at ten percent above his own cost. We would also give him the first chance to purchase any magical items we find in our travels for which we have no need.

All in all it seems like an equitable arrangement, and he has already started work on my Amulet of Inspired Wisdom (having finished Sabin’s book a couple days before).

Tomorrow we leave for the library to find what we can about the runeforge.

== Moonday, Erastus 14, 4708; Monastic Library; evening ==

So how to counter the threat of the ancient runelord Karzoug threatening to rise again to power? Could it be an answer lies in that forgotten place the Scribbler’s insane ramblings alluded to?

But even in this magnificent library, references to the runeforge were sparse and terse. Sabin and I slaved away using the mechanical librarian to retrieve volume upon volume of mouldering texts on esoteric topics. For every reference to the runeforge we found we had to sift through twenty books or scrolls. And often what information we found had already been gleaned from some other tome, or forced us to expand our search to other topics.

We had already learned from our previous study in modern day texts about the runelords that there had been a legendary Thassilonian place of learning for arcane knowledge. “Runeforge,” it was called, but it was lost when the ancient empire fell long ago.

It appeared that even during those ancient times, the location of the runeforge was a jealously guarded secret. The runelords considered it to be a strategic resource to their rule, and those chosen to study at there never returned: assignment to the runeforge was a life long commitment.

There, scholars worked endlessly inventing new spells and magical items the likes of which the world had never before seen. One of the last areas of research commissioned by the runelords for the runeforge was to find a way by which the runelords could escape death itself, and survive the fall of the empire, ready to return again when the time was right.

This sounded promising — anything that described how Karzoug could still be alive after all these millennia might also provide clues on how he could be defeated.

It was surprising to learn that the runelords themselves did not visit the runeforge, at least not after it had been well established. The runelords mistrusted one another, and they themselves put in place wards and protections to prevent any runelord or agent acting directly on a runelord’s behalf from entering runeforge.

But again, where was it?

The closest thing to a location we could find was that it was built on the edge of the Kodar Mountains to the north. This vast chain of peaks stretches across the northern reaches of the continent, and identifying a single peak among the countless pinnacles of the Kodar without additional information was simply not practical.

The Scribbler mentioned the eastern shores of a steaming mirror and a Mount Xin. Looking at modern day maps we quickly identified the Steaming Sea, to the north of Sandpoint, and to the east of that begins the Kodar Range.

I also remembered the notes written on Mokmurian’s map of the Lost Coast Road, identifying the Old Light of Sandpoint as an ancient and terrible weapon called the Hellfire Plume. Mokmurian was looking for evidence of a “traitor” called Xaliasa, with the thought that he might know the whereabouts of a runeforge key.

Xaliasa, as it turned out, was the commander of one of Alaznist’s Hellfire Plumes — the one at Sandpoint. Delving further we found evidence that regular payments had been made from Shalast (Karzoug’s realm) to Xaliasa, which was very odd considering that Xaliasa served Alasnist, Karzoug’s chief rival. We suspect that Xaliasa was accepting bribes from Karzoug, but in the end remained loyal to Alasnist, thus engendering the name “traitor” from Karzoug and his followers.

Then something occurred to me, and quickly I rifled through our bags of holding, pulling out the Scribbler’s dagger and the broken pieces of his falchion. There, carefully engraved in graceful runes on each of the hilts was the name “Xaliasa.”

We had uncovered the true identity of the Scribbler, which at the very least verified that he would have had knowledge about the location of the runeforge, and his cryptic hints over its location should be taken seriously.

Turning back to the ancient maps we scanned for names of the peaks at the eastern end of the Kodar Mountains, and found the location of Mt Xin. Comparing the ancient maps to our modern copies we saw that the same peak was now called Rimeskull.

We needed up to date information on this region in order to make travel plans to go there and find the runeforge.

Fortunately Kane, who has been creating wands all the time Sabin and I were working in the library, was in need of additional materials, and a trip to Sandpoint was quickly arranged for the next day.

In the meantime I searched for anything mentioning peacock feathered quills, but was disappointed to find it mentioned once, describing how associates of Xanderghul (runelord of pride) were known to write with such quills.

I then pulled out the quill (and suffered no ill effects from handling it) I tried writing various phrases in different languages using some of the black ink we found with it, but it simply performed like a normal quill — but an exceptionally well crafted quill.

== Toilday, Erastus 15, 4708; Monastic Library; evening ==

In the morning Sabin and Trask teleported to Magnimar with Nolin and I in tow.

Trask was looking to purchase a Cloak of Resistance, and so he headed off to the market district, while Sabin went in search of arcane supplies. Nolin waved and set off to visit his parents, leaving me to do a some research on my own.

I had heard that the Pathfinder Society was a good place to obtain relatively up to date and detailed descriptions of various geographical areas and sites, and I found the local office with little difficulty.

The area around Rimeskull, while not unknown, was not heavily traveled. The the high elevation and the high latitude combine to make for frigid conditions even during the height of summer. Mountain streams flow into Lake Stormunder at the foot of the Rimeskull, and from there the Steam River flows west into the Steaming Sea.

Near the mouth of the river a small village, Brinewall, protected by its own castle, once served as an outpost to the region, but the entire population of the town and castle all vanished sometime in the mid 4680s. All the houses, offices, merchants, shops, and other businesses were left as if the occupants had just popped out for a moment and would be right back. But right back never came.

There seems to be something tragic about anyplace with “wall” at the end of its name, and like Viperwall to the south, this sounds like a good place for us to investigate… after we’ve dealt with Karzoug.

The only “recent” visitors to the immediate vicinity of Rimeskull were Shoanti traders passing by. But even these reports date back one or two centuries. However, they do include the tale of a white dragon living in the peaks above the lake, which I found to be the most useful piece of information the Pathfinder clerk had to offer.

Troops had been dispatched to the area to deal with the dragon, but they had never returned.

“The dragon treasure was never found, and bound to be to still be there, and unprotected now that the dragon has died.”

I laughed, and asked how he knew the dragon was dead.

“Well, they sent all those soldiers, and that was hundreds of years ago, and even if they didn’t kill him, dragons don’t live forever.”

“Really?” I replied, “You do know that dragons live for thousands of years?”

Apparently he did not, “But still,” he enthused, “nobody has seen the dragon in all that time.”

He seemed not to make the connectiuon that the most recent reports from that area were those that mentioned the dragon all those years ago. Nobody has reported a dragon since, because nobody has visited the place since (and lived to tell about it).

What a silly man.

None the less, I accepted his offer to have copies made of the maps and descriptions they had of the area, and in return I let them copy Olithar’s journal.

He also mentioned another peculiar site far to the north, but more eastward. A place known as the “Mobhad Leigh,” which was a name of ill omen among my people, meaning literally, “The stairway to hell.” It is a huge pit of unknown depth with stone steps that lead down several hundred feet. Many, many years ago the Shoanti tried to use magic to plumb its depths, but the spell casters all dropped dead.

Interesting, but the site does not seem to be of Thassilonian origin (it was not on any of the ancient maps in the library), and we had enough distractions to contend with as it was.

I returned to the Feisty Fox to await my companions. I was surprised to see Kane and Rigel walk into the bar, with Avia and Trask close behind. Kane and Rigel were sniggering, while Trask looked looked sheepishly away, avoiding all eye contact.

I asked what had brought the three of them into town (all of them but Trask had remained behind at the library), but at that Kane and Rigel burst out laughing so hard that they could not speak, and Avia simply rolled her eyes. Trask turned a bright shade of red, but all I could make out from the two rolling on the floor was something about a trip around the world and a red cloak.

I guess you had to have been there.

I did see that Trask was wearing a new cloak (not red), but he seemed less than enthused to talk about it.

Soon after that Nolin and Sabin came in, and we all returned to the library, where I updated them on what I had found out about the Rimeskull area.

== Fireday, Erastus 25, 4708; Monastic Library; evening ==

We have completed our research in the library, and Kane has completed crafting his first set of wands.

One of the more interesting discussions we’ve had while here came about when Kane commented on how there were seven of us, just as there were seven runelords. This led us to wonder which of the original seven virtues each of us thought best represented us… but oddly enough the discussion quickly shifted from the virtues to the sins, and this is what occupied most of the conversation.

Which of the seven sins was most applicable to me? Wrath seemed likely, but deep down within I knew it to be Envy. Envy for those who remain oblivious to the realities of the world, and the never ending toil that the rest of us must undertake to keep it from being covered by darkness. Oh, but to live a simple life!

Yesterday we had all made a brief visit to Sandpoint to make sure all was still well (it was), and so I could pick up my Amulet of Inspired Wisdom from Rarallo. Others ordered additional items to be crafted, and Avia found someone to make armor from Longtooth’s hide.

Back at the library we briefly discussed our plans for tomorrow, when we plan to travel to Rimeskull and scout out the lay of the land.

== Starday, Erastus 26, 4708; Sandpoint; evening ==

I cast Wind Walk on myself and all my companions and we took to the air in the forms of wisps of vapor, and then sped northward. The plan was to keep relatively low to the ground (some fifty feet up) and avoid any obstacles or confrontations. Kane and I both had Status cast upon the entire party so we could keep tabs on where everyone was. We could also see one another, with some difficulty as small wisps of cloud.

It was nearly a four hour trip, but much preferable to having to make our way there by foot, boat, or horseback.

We flew up and over the first ridge of the Kodars to find the Steam River valley below us, and to the right, great Lake Stormunder. Patches of snow lined the river, but snow completely blanketed the ground everywhere else.

And Mount Rimeskull was there to great us, glowing in the morning light. It was unmistakable. A huge head had been carved into the side of the mountain, now ancient and crumbling and truly resembling more of a skull than the head of Emperor Xin that it once depicted. Its mouth was gaping open, which we could see was in fact the entrance to a cave. Out from the mouth a giant stairway led down some 200 feet to within 50 feet of the top of a round plateau.

The plateau was ringed with seven colossal heads each mounted on a squat cylindrical pedestal. Unlike the face on the mountain, and heads were amazingly well preserved, and each towered ten feet high.

We landed and assumed material form near the eastern shore of the lake and walked up to the heads, which all faced inward with gaping mouths open. I discovered that they were magical, but each had its own magic aura, and each face was carved into the image of a particular runelord.

           (d)
 N              (c)
 ^   (e)
 |                (b) --> To stairs and Rimeskull
    (f)
               (a)
         (g)

a. Alasnist (wrath): evocation
b. Xanderghul (vanity): illusion
c. Sorshen (lust): enchantment
d. Balamarius (envy): abjuration
e. Krune (sloth): conjuration
f. Karzoug (greed): transmutation
g. Zutha (gluttony): necromancy

We stared at the statues as I reread the Scribbler’s words about saying the proper prayer and casting the proper spell before each stone runelord to get a key to the runeforge from each.

And then in an instant I knew what we had to do: cast a spell (any spell) of the proper school before each statue.

Trask boldly cast Mage Hand before Karzoug, and there was a loud ringing, as if someone had struck an enormous bell, and a golden key appeared in the mouth of Karzoug, which Trask took.

Working quickly we made our way around the circle, with each statue making its own unique bell like ringing sound as it was activated.

f. Karzoug (greed): transmutation — Trask: Mage Hand
a. Alasnist (wrath): evocation — Takkad: Light
e. Krune (sloth): conjuration — Kane: Light
g. Zutha (gluttony): necromancy — Trask: Disrupt Undead
b. Xanderghul (vanity): illusion — Sabin: Mirror Image
c. Sorshen (lust): enchantment — Kane: Bless
d. Balamarius (envy): abjuration — Takkad: Protection from Evil

Just as I picked up the last key we heard Rigel shriek, “DRAGON!” as she pointed eastward, toward Rimeskull.

Hurtling towards us at a startling speed was an enormous white dragon.

Trask launched a Fireball at it, but it appeared to have far less affect than we had thought (or hoped) it would.

We had clumped together more than was wise near the center of the circle made by the heads, and the dragon made good use of its tactical advantage by breathing an icy cold blast down upon us as it swooped by.

Kane began to heal the party as I cast Prayer, and the rest of the team prepared for combat.

Trask sent another Fireball at the dragon, which fizzled, and Rigel snuck next to one of the heads and pulled out her bow to shoot at it as it flew by.

Only it did not fly by. Rigel’s arrow appeared to pass right through it as it swept up and landed before her, scooping her up in its jaws!

I cast Flamestrike at its tail end, which seemed to have hurt it, and Sabin performed his Dimensional Door trick with Kane, Avia and Nolin, popping up right before the dragon.

All three fighters began to beat on the dragon, but something odd was going on. Avia noted that while her eyes told her the dragon was in one place, her senses tuned to combat suggested it was someplace else.

But even with this knowledge, the fighters were unable to leave a single mark on the beast. But it obviously considered them a serious threat, and so it spit out Rigel, who landed in the snow some ten feet away and crawled behind one of the statues for cover.

I cast Greater Dispel Magic on it, and it was as if the dragon instantly jumped a few feet over — apparently it had been using some sort of spell to make it harder to hit.

Another Dispel Magic later and all of the fighters were having better luck hitting (and hurting) the dragon, and Trask’s Fireballs now seemed to be having their expected results.

The dragon breathed ice on us again, but Kane and I were managing to keep the team near to full health, while at the same time the dragon was now boasting serious wounds, and was bleeding from a myriad of slashes and gouges in its side.

We were pushing our advantage when the beast pulled back a short distance, rumbled some enchantment under its breath, and vanished.

Sabin, who was watching carefully (and speaks Draconic), shouted out, “Dimensional Door!”

We knew he must be within about a thousand feet of us hiding, but where? As one we turned and looked at the gaping mouth of the face of Xin, and the steps leading up to it.

True, we were healthy and still had some significant amount of healing and spells available to us. But we would be entering the dragon’s own den, and we all felt we should be better prepared before undertaking that.

Instead we teleported back to Sandpoint, and plan to discuss tactics over dinner.

Tomorrow we will Teleport back to the plateau, which will free two high level spells for me, and deal with the dragon.

And then we will deal with whatever lies within.

Moonday, Erastus 7. Still.

So we returned to the room we’d come to call “Scribbler’s room” since it was the last room we’d seen him n. This room had more of (we presume) Scribbler’s graffiti but there seemed to be few rooms down here that didn’t bear witness to his literary efforts. There was a door to the north, but Rigel proclaimed it was not trapped nor locked.

And thus it was opened, revealing, of course, yet another fog filled corridor.

It was pretty much fate that decreed Sabin, Takkad, Rigel, and Rallo would enter the corridor before me. Well, maybe not fate for Rallo, because he was going to blow the fog free again. But we sorted out later that much as I had been subject to some sort of fear spell earlier, they now fell victim to a spell of suspicion. Each felt the others had been turned against them.

Rallo reacted with a couple of scorching rays, which missed but were our first clue something was amiss.

Takkad responded by creating a wall of stone to separate him from everyone but Sabin. This was our second, although rather enigmatic, clue.

Sabin responded by doing a dimension door to a different room so that he could escape Takkad and the area in general. Since Rallo had NOT cleared the fog, nobody had any idea he’d done this .. he just disappeared into the fog and then dd’ed out.

And Rigel .. just turned and ran, pushing past me as she did so.

Those of us remaining (Avia, myself, Nolin and Kane) immediately assumed some sort of foul magic, although we weren’t quite sure what kind at first. However, our friends had also made a few utterances that led us to believe they thought we were enemies now. (We didn’t realize until later that they also considered each other enemies too!) I turned to run after Rigel, while Kane, Avia, and Nolin tried to figure out how to neutralize the magic without having our companions hurt us.

Rigel, it turns out, is faster than I am but also was running a little bit randomly, and I was able to corner her. Fearing the worst, I put a mirror image on myself before approaching her and that proved to be a very good idea. “Stop!” I told her. “I need your help to fight the others!” I said with all the charisma and diplomacy I could muster. She viewed me suspiciously for a moment before striking at me with her dagger. She hit one of the images, and started to move away. I attempted to wrestle her to the ground, but was unsuccessful.

Catching Rigel is a bit like catching a cat. You don’t ever catch a cat without injury unless it wants to be caught. I’d guess Rigel was going to swipe at me everytime I cornered her. Sigh. I ran after her.

Meanwhile, Avia had entered the corridor and was apparently unaffected. She successfully wrestled Rallo to the ground. This, of course, just reinforced to him that his former friends were indeed out to get him. Not wanting to spend her time sitting on him, she just tied him up really really well. He sat and struggled.

Takkad, having sealed himself into a corridor, was trying to decide what to do next when he discovered a door to the east. He quickly determined it was locked and could do nothing about it. There was no other way out. He’d created a spacious prison cell.

Kane tried to dispel the compelling magic, and failed.

Takkad decided to break down the wall so he could battle his former comrades. It was pure irony that he then cast protection from evil on himself to aid him in the coming battle. And upon doing so … discovered the compulsion and certainty he’d had moments ago faded. He’d cured himself, and suddenly realized that although his goal was still the same – break down the wall – his motivation was now completely different.

Sabin, it turned out, encountered the Scribbler again. But he curried no special favor with Sabin, so Sabin attacked him. By all accounts, Sabin beat him up pretty good before Scribbler teleported, dimension doored, or went invisible. He wasn’t dead, though, when he left.

I was still playing “catch the prickly kitty” with Rigel. She too had decided she needed to exit and was preparing to leave the area when Avia, Nolin, Kane, Takkad, and Rallo caught up with us. Once she entered the area of effect for protection from evil she too realized she’d, uh, misunderstood.

We managed to submit Sabin to the same sort of protection from evil and suddenly all our party but Rallo was sane again.

I used a gust of wind cast from the staff of spell storing to see if we could find Scribbler, but we could not. Depleted, now, of many of our spells, we decided to return to the surface. We were cognizant of the fact that the paranoid compulsion was held in check by protection from evil but not dispelled so we walked in careful formation.

Upon reaching the surface, we made haste to Father Xanthus who was able to dispel the charms. It took, however, several scrolls of dispel magic, and I wonder if we ought not replace them.

We decided to set up camp in the sinkhole to make it less likely anything might exit it overnight. We are here, after all, to protect the town.

Toilday, Erastus 8

As soon as everyone had sufficient rest to recover their spells, we mustered our group again to go deal with Scribbler. Sure, he’d had a chance to heal too but we were much better informed about what to expect and all of us against him was a battle he’d lose.

We checked first a few of the doors/rooms we had not inspected before, figuring he’d retreated to “his” room to rest and recover. Nolin seemed to enjoy using his “unlock door” spell – that is, his adamantine sword – to clear the way for us. We found some more fog-filled areas, some that the clerics vehemently objected to due to Lamashtu influences in the interior decorating, but no Scribbler.

Finally we reentered our corridor of altered alliances, but under protection of evil this time so it did not affect us. Instead, we ran into noxious fumes that, fortunately, did not harm us (though I believe they were intended to). Nolin “unlocked” the locked door Takkad had found and we found a small room full of graffiti again. As we were puzzling over this, Avia announced there was evil behind us in the fog.

Instantly, Sabin used dimension door to move himself, Nolin, and Takkad next to the evil, which was, of course, Scribbler. He was a bit surprised at finding himself engaged in battle so quickly and it left him no choice but to fight with weapons rather than spells. He did put some hurt on our fighters, and managed to fire off one spell to bring a couple more of the mastiffs to distract us. For my part, I used a wall of force to cut off Scribbler’s physical escape, but everyone was too close to use a fireball without subjecting the group to friendly fire (!).

Nolin got hit by Scribbler’s falchion and found himself weakened by it. Not surprisingly, it had some additional enchantments on it.

Suddenly, in a flurry of holy wrath, Avia pummelled Scribbler into small bits and it was over. Well except for the mastiffs, but Nolin had fun taming the puppies. Nolin had definitely developed an attitude about this area.

Scribbler left some diamond dust, a cloak, and some armor behind. We will evaluate these later. The danger to Sandpoint is, we think, largely dealt with (although the clerics still dislike the remaining influence of Lamashtu that lingers here.)

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; night ==

After a brief rest in the shadow mastiff “kennel” where we found the Scribbler’s verse on the Runeforge, we continued to follow the wide crevice to the west.

Rarallo once again assumed the form of a whirlwind and blew the magical fog away, and we followed closely. The crack wound west and north a ways before forking around a natural column and rejoining again at the corner of a small room.

Like all the other rooms in this underground complex, the walls here were covered in Thassilonian ramblings expressing dedication and devotion to the vile Lamashtu.

A door was set in the middle of the north wall, which Rigel proclaimed as unlocked and trap-free. And yet we did not rush to open it, as we had a premonition of some doom that lay beyond. We read through the scribbling on the wall again, while Sabin focused on the aura of magic that permeated these underground chambers, and after a few moments grunted, “Much abjuration.”

And on the north door was another of the Scribbler’s poems:

Each stone the grace of seven lords,
One part of key each ruler hoards;
If offered spells and proper prayer;
Take seven keys and climb the stair.

I opened the door to the north, but fog filled whatever was beyond and so Rarallo moved forward, blowing the fog out, as Sabin and I followed.

And then I understood something important, which heretofore I had not yet realized. This entire underground lair was dedicated to Lamashtu, and the very air (and that dratted fog) we breathed radiated her evil influence. Sabin himself had confirmed this just moments before. Abjuration indeed!

My companions had succumbed to this evil, and I alone was left free from its taint. Worse, they were aware I alone had escaped this corruption, and they were scheming to murder me and each other… or worse.

And to confirm my fears, Sabin pushed past Rarallo, who had assumed his usual form, shoving him to the side. Rarallo then launched a set of Scorching Rays at Sabin, just barely missing him. Obviously evil was at work in the party, and my time to act was limited.

I quickly passed Rarallo and then set a Wall of Stone between the rest of the party and Sabin and I. Of all my team mates, it is with Sabin that I had the closest friendship and I trusted, perhaps foolishly (but then my options were limited), that some remembrance of our former friendship would keep him from acting against me.

He glared menacingly at me and then vanished into the fog ahead.

But I knew he had in fact teleported somehow to the entrance of the complex, where we first encountered the Scribbler. I also knew that Avia and Nolin were still in the room to the south. Earlier in the day, before we came down into this accursed pit, I had cast Status on these three, and so what was intended as a way for me to protect them against harm now served to protect me from them!

I greatly appreciated this foresight that Pharasma had granted me, but I needed to quickly find and destroy the Scribbler, and so I cautiously moved forward through the fog, using my ever burning torch to peer through the murk.

The passageway ended in a massive cave in, and fissures — possibly caused by the recent earthquake that caused the sinkhole to appear — riddled the walls. There was a stone door to the east, but it was magically locked, and I had no way to open it.

But scrawled on the door was another set of staves about the Runeforge:

If magic bright is your desire,
To old runeforge must you retire!
For only there does wizard’s art
Receive its due and proper start.

More riddling about the Runeforge, which may or may not be important for the larger goal. And here despair almost overwhelmed me, for the Scribbler is but an interruption in what was to be our true goal: prevent the rise of the long dead Runelord Karzul (also called Karzoug). How was this to be achieved with my companions all turned to evil?

I was trapped… at least for the day. The next morning I could pray for a number of spells more suited to getting through that door and completing the mission.

But what to do now? I went back to the wall and listened. I could barely hear the others talking in the room beyond, but could not make out what was said. Nolin was still there, but Avia was heading back through the fissure toward the kennels on some unknown errand.

I then heard a thunk against the other side of the stone wall, and then Kane called out to me, followed by Nolin. At first I remained silent, because I did not wish to give away any information about my presence, but then I feared they would break down the wall to get at me.

“You have betrayed me for the last time!”, I yelled, hoping to buy some time. But it was a feeble ploy, for I knew they were aware I had few offensive spells, even if I had any prepared.

I realized that it would only be a short while before they came through, and so I decided to bluff my way out. “Something is wrong with Sabin and Rarallo, I yelled, “and I had to place this wall here to prevent them from killing one another! We should take the wall down now.”

While these words were all true, I could hear how they would sound false to those who had already been turned against me. None the less, I took out my mace, with the thought of battering a hole in the wall, and then took the precaution of casting Protection from Evil upon myself for when I encountered my former companions.

And then all at once I saw that I had been tricked into believing my companions were evil by some sort of enchantment spell. The charm was in fact still in effect, but blocked for as long as my protection spell lasted… which was not very long.

My immediate reaction was, “Oh, crap!”

Upon hearing this, and no doubt noting the different tone of my voice, Kane called in, “What is going on?” And this time I was able to answer him honestly, explain the charm trap we had walked into, inform them that Rarallo and Sabin were also affected, and give them Sabin’s current location. I also passed on the bad news that I had a little more than ten minutes before my protection spell expired and I was once again under the influence of the enchantment.

After a few moments Kane had battered down the wall, using Nolin’s adamantine great sword, which was taller than Kane himself. Nolin did not wish to expose himself to the trap. Apparently both Kane and Avia had managed to see through the charm when they entered the hallway and the trap was sprung.

Rarallo had already been subdued, bound and gagged and lay (still struggling) on the floor. Rigel had also been influenced, and had bolted out, but Trask and Avia had caught and bound her as well, and were on their way back to us.

We quietly discussed our options, with teleporting back to Sandpoint to recover being the most logical next step. I knew Sabin had begun to make his way out of the complex, and so he would not be in danger if we left him alone for now.

But no sooner had we decided this than my Status spell indicated that Sabin was under attack. “Sabin has been hurt!”, I called out, to which Avia yelled back, “Well, come on then, let’s get moving!”

The rest of us, dragging Rarallo, rushed forward where we met up with Avia. Trask had used the Staff of the Wind to clear out the fog from this section of the caverns, so we were able to see one another. I explained how Protection from Evil could give those of us affected by the charm a chance to see through it for a while, at which point in time Avia cast Magic Circle Against Evil.

Immediately Rigel came to herself and said, “Oh, crap!” She was untied and ready to join in the rescue, but Rarallo remained hostile towards us. Kane and Rigel volunteered to drag Rarallo out while the rest of us ran on ahead to assist Sabin.

We arrived in the temple rooms to see Sabin and the Scribbler standing toe to toe exchanging blows. But then the Scribbler just vanished! Avia charged up to Sabin, and as soon as she was within ten feet of him he looked momentarily puzzled before grunting, “Huh!”

We re-gathered and made our way up the stairs and back out through the sinkhole to Sandpoint. I recommended we go to the Temple, where Father Xanthus would no doubt have the resources to dispel the charms affecting us, or break the enchantment if needed.

Mercifully the good Father was able to do so, having used five of the Temple’s scrolls of Dispel Magic in addition to two he had prepared to do so.

Rarallo was the last to be released from the enchantment, and he looked the worst for having been charmed into taking action against us. His eyes — I have seen that haunted look before — told me he would be leaving us, at least for a while. His confidence had been seriously shaken, and he said he did not trust himself to continue on with us, which was sad, but understandable.

Rarallo had not been with us for more than a fortnight, but already he felt like one of us, and I for one will miss his presence.

He did agree to stay on in Sandpoint until we were done with the Scribbler. And he said he would complete the magical items he had already promised to create for several of us.

For Sabin there was some sort of book that Rarallo was already creating.

I had asked him to create something that would require both of our efforts, most of my gold, and eighteen days to craft: a powerful amulet of inspired wisdom.

And so we walked with Rarallo to the Rusty Dragon, where we shared a late dinner and a tankard or two of ale. It was a quiet meal, and our moods somber.

The rest of us then made our way back out into the cold night and proceeded to the sinkhole, where we climbed down and set up camp.

== Toilday, Erastus 8, 4708; Sandpoint, The Scribbler’s Lair; morning ==

The night passed cold and dark, for we lit no fire, and the watches passed slowly, but uneventfully.

We prepared for our descent by casting protective and status spells on the party, and then passed into the ruined complex, and then down the spiral stairs. We stopped before the large double doors bearing a three eyed jackal — symbol of the debased Lamashtu — and decided to explore beyond the doors before heading through the caverns.

The doors were magically locked, but Trask used a staff of Knock and they opened onto a wide hallway with doors leading off either side. The hallway was choked with a cave in some thirty feet in, and so we concentrated on the side doors.

Each of these doors was stone, and also magically locked, but by now Nolin had lost all patience with the area, and used his sword to bash in each door.

To the northwest there was a short hallway blocked by a cave in.

To the northeast was an oval chamber, with the Scribbler’s handiwork scrawled over the walls. The floor was littered with piles of dust and debris, but they were lined on either side of the room, as if something had been pacing back and forth endlessly through the chamber. At the far end was a painted image of a three eyed jackal, and beneath this was another Runeforge poem:

On eastern shores of steaming mirror,
At end of day when dusk is nearer,
Where seven faces silent wait
Encircled guards at runeforge gate.

The southeast door opened onto another oval chamber, but the southern wall had collapsed into the room, blocking the a third of it.

Somewhat disappointed at what we found behind the two large elaborately decorated and magically locked doors, we proceeded back to the small room beyond the kennels.

We noticed that some property of either the fog or just the place itself caused confusion over the direction we would head. There was one such place in the kennel where this was common, plus in the tunnel where it split around a rock intrusion just south of the small room. It did not appear that these anomalies were hiding any secret ways or doors, but we will need to spend more time with these spots later to be sure.

We filed north into the foggy hallway where the enchantment trap had been set the day before, but no one was affected. Whether Magic Circle Against Evil defeated it, or the trap had expired we did not know.

Nolin smashed open the heavy stone door, and he, Sabin and I peered in. A bloody body lay crumpled against the north wall: it was dressed in a uniform of the Sandpoint Guard, and glowed with an aura of necromancy. A small desk was against the far wall, upon which were set vials of various colored liquids, and a magical magnificent peacock plume quill. The walls were covered with glowing script, and Nolin had just entered when Avia, who was our rear guard, called out, “There is an evil presence back here just outside the room.”

Sabin used his Dimensional Door trick, and he, Nolin and I found ourselves back at the southern end of the room, while the rest of the team scrambled to turn around and engage our enemy.

Of course it was the Scribbler, but he was hidden in the fog. I cast Prayer as Nolin stepped over to the doorway and started slashing at him. I tried to cast a Dimensional Anchor on him, because the fiend had a habit of vanishing just when we were getting the upper hand against him, but the spell fizzled.

I was hit by a thrown dagger for my efforts, while Sabin and Nolin were slashed by the Scribbler’s wicked looking falchion. When it struck Nolin it sprang to life and began to chew on him, weakening him.

Sabin stepped into the fog and hacked at the Scribbler, while Trask erected a Wall of Force behind him, cutting off his escape by normal means. By this time Avia had arrived and added to the physical punishment being dealt.

Trask placed a small sphere of fire directly on top of our foe, and while it did not appear to hurt it, it burned away enough of the fog and illuminated him such that we could all clearly see it!

I scrambled over to Nolin and quickly cast another Dimensional Anchor spell on the Scribbler, who was now covered by a sticky, liquid shimmering green glow. Success!

Kane had arrived by now and we both turned our attention to healing our fighters. Nolin, alarmed by the evil chewing effects of the falchion, hit it hard with his great sword, shattering it.

To the north we could hear the growling of shadow mastiffs which the Scribbler must have summoned to help, but they were blocked by the two Magic Circle spells Kane and I had cast, and could only bark in frustration as their master was hacked at mercilessly.

Suddenly the Scribbler called out, “Lamashtu, save me!”, as Avia delivered the killing blow.

We severed its head and saw that it carried a bag of diamond dust, as well as a magical cloak and armor, plus a dagger. But we did not yet have time to properly identify it, as there were still monsters trying to get at us from the northern corridor.

Nolin stepped up and one by one finished off the two dog creatures.

Kane restored Nolin’s lost health, and I finished healing the last of our wounds.

Now we are looking over the Scribbler’s possessions and deciding what to do next.

The room to the north needs a more thorough examination, and we should search through the entire complex again, looking for secret doors as well as other snippets of poetry the Scribbler may have left for us concerning the Runeforge.

A return trip to the monastic library also seems in order — we had seen a comment on one of Mokmurian’s maps mentioning the Runeforge, but its significance is still a mystery to us.

Also, our horses are still stabled in far off Galduria, and we need to bring them to Sandpoint as well.

== Toilday, Erastus 8, 4708; Sandpoint ==

That Rarallo is leaving us has been weighing on my mind, and has made me reflect upon the past for the first time in a while.

Has it truly been half a year since I met my traveling companions and (now) closest of friends?

But as I look back over these pages, and recall all we have been through together, I find myself asking, has it truly only been half a year?

Gone are the days of traveling with my clan on the trading circuit, hiring myself out to various bands to supplement a meager income. That life is gone, and even should my friends disband, I know now I could never return to that earlier life.

That younger me is gone, and I have grown. We have all grown.

I look now upon my companions, and see each more clearly than when we first met all those crazy and chaotic months ago.

Considering the troubles my people have had with orcs and half orcs, it is a wonder that my first and dearest friend of the troupe is Sabin. Direct to the point of abruptness, but seldom rash, Sabin is surprisingly thoughtful, as evidenced by his competence in both arcane and martial arts. It was Sabin who first approached me in friendship after the loss of cousin Menkat, and introduced me to his associates. And, oddly enough, in group debates it is with Sabin that I find myself most often in agreement.

There is more to my fellow cleric, Kane, than meets the eye. Unwaveringly devoted to Desna in all things, and nearly as devoted to his friends, Kane often acts as the moral compass of the group, but his needle spins rapidly in different directions. His keen eyes, alert ears, and deft hands combined with his knowledge of traps, treasures and secret ways are a great asset, but do make one wonder about his past.

One cannot mention Kane without also thinking of Rigel. Rigel is a bit of an enigma, and while she is without doubt the most skilled artisan with anything involving doors, locks, traps, valuables or things hidden that I have ever met, her motivations for being with the group are less clear. What is clear is her willingness to go headfirst into danger and use her skills in order to ensure our safety.

At first I was certain that Kane and Rigel were a couple, but these days I am not so sure. Sometime in her recent past Rigel was involved with a bard, who had been part of the group, but something unpleasant happened with that relationship, and the bard is gone (although occasionally alluded to with various derisive comments). However, it is obvious to anyone who observes them together, Kane and Rigel are as thick as thieves.

Former member of the guard at Magnimar, Nolin is unexpectedly intelligent, and boasts a wide range of knowledge — anything from animal training to engineering. But make no mistake, Nolin is a master at arms, and is one of the first to charge in and confront any threat to the group, protecting the rest of us who are not so capable. Besides his loyalty to the team, one of Nolin’s greatest strengths is his ability (and seemingly passion) for planning, and our successes are often a result of having spent many hours beforehand thinking through our actions.

Enthusiastic to a fault (sometimes literally), Trask is the youngest member of the party. Outgoing and boisterous, he appears to have an unnatural affinity with fire in general, and red dragons in particular. Fortunately his magical abilities extend well beyond things that explode, and he is the default operator for our magical devices. He and I are the only members of our party that regularly (and religiously) keep up to date journals, and even if he were not so affable, I suspect this alone would make us friends.

I have worked with a number of paladins over the years — and have heard quite a few unfavorable limericks about them: most variations on the infamous “There was a young paladin from Korvosa”, but I digress — and Avia is like none I have ever met. The fact that she has worked so well with this group of disparate personalities proves she is far more tolerant and wise than is usual for her line of work. A follower of Sarenrea, Avia’s past is a mystery even to herself. She seldom speaks of it, but I wonder if part of her yearns to know from whence she came. For now the present seems more than enough for her, which I find is true for me as well. One thing she does have in common with other paladins is her ability to inflict damage upon our foes, but even in this she exceeds the norm.

Despite (or perhaps because of) our differences in background, outlook, and social standings we all work incredibly well together. Arguments are rare, but never escalate beyond a willingness to simply agree to disagree. But far more often than not we work in relative harmony, and I believe our history and growing reputation more than speak to how effective we are as a team.

And greatly blessed am I to be a part of it.

Moonday, Erastus 7th

When I stepped into that room I knew that something was not right.

The battle with the Scribbler and his hounds and demons left me somewhat unnerved. It’s one of the few times that the party was not able to take the advantage, and we fought on the defensive at the mercy of his spells. Though he was no tactical genius, he was resourceful and he was prepared and it was enough to keep us off balance. Most importantly, it was enough to keep him alive. Once again one of our foes was able to vanish into thin air just when the tide was starting to turn.

My frustration with this encounter is why I chose, uncharacteristically, to take up the rear guard as we advanced through the fog. I don’t know why I did not trust my judgement, I just know that I did not. As it turned out this may have been the wisest decision I have made.

Sabin, Takkad, Rigel, and Rararallo all entered the hallway and that is when the confusion began. I still do not know the precise sequence of events, but within seconds spells were fired off and a wall of stone created to block our passage. Before I could move up to see what had happened, Rigel tore through the room and into the fog, running for her life. Running from us! And then Rararallo appeared, showing the same terror, the same wild look of someone who was consumed by paranoia and fear.

It was Kane that figured out that an enchantment was responsible, one that convinced those who entered that the evil Lamashtu had corrupted their friends. It was a subtle, clever suggestion. I am told that one so enchanted cannot be made to act against his or her nature, but twisting our own perceptions of reality would sidestep that limitation. Very clever, and very effective.

But not foolproof. Takkad, fearing the evil that he believed had taken over his friends, did what he would logically do in any such situation: he cast a spell of protection, and a side effect of this spell was to break the enchantment that was influencing him. Through the thin stone wall, which he had created for his own safety, we heard him exclaim a few choice words as the realization of what had happened came over him. Kane took my sword, for I did not trust myself to enter that hallway, and broke down the wall so that we could be reunited.

Takkad’s spell would eventually free Rigel and Sabin, at least temporarily, and so we retreated to the temple in Sandpoint to regroup and permanently dispel the charms that had afflicted us. Rararallo, however, was so shaken by these events that he has lost his nerve for adventuring. It is a shame, for in the short time that we have known him he has been a valuable companion, but I understand his decision. This is a very dangerous thing we are doing. His reaction is, I think, normal (which, disturbingly, suggests that ours is not).

Toilday, Erastus 8th

The Scribbler is dead. As I write this, my companions are searching the room at the end of the hallway and trying to make sense of the magical items and protections that are in place. Every now and then, one or two look my way give me “that look”. At least once I overheard talk about the Scribbler’s damaged falchion and what could be done to repair it. I know that some are upset about the destruction of a valuable magic item—an item that could have been sold for money—but I don’t care. I had long since lost patience with the Scribbler and with this place, and when I found myself face to face with him and feeling the business end of that weapon I deliberately smashed it to pieces. And it felt good.

If they want to try and fix it, fine. But I am not apologizing for my actions.

Moonday, Erastus 7 (cont’d)

Unfortunately, I find myself writing a lot of this portion of the day not from personal experience but from tales of my companions. As luck would have it, I (and several others in the party) suffered the effects of a fear spell or aura of some sort. But I’ll get there soon enough.

First the fireball. A fine fireball it was, too, quite capable of completely snuffing out the life of things smaller than the Scribbler. However, at the instant it exploded there was only him, and it turns out his response to the fireball was to invite in a few close friends, and none of his friends were smaller than he. In fact, several of them were bigger than any one of us. A couple were bigger than any two of us.

Seeming to shrug off the fireball, he chanted and summoned a half dozen dog-like (but dog-like only in shape) creatures. They were very hard to see when they were even close to shadows. But they were certainly susceptible to Avia’s, Sabin’s, and Nolin’s sword strokes.

But then there appeared some larger demons or devils .. I don’t believe anyone ever had a name for them. One of them, which also looked dog-like but bigger, I think Takkad declared to be “barghest”.

I was able to get off a second fireball which was felt by several of our foes. But then life got hard. First of all, gravity reversed. I had the choice of casting fly, or attacking prone from the ceiling (my new floor). Since weapons had been having a tough time damaging these newer things, I thought that lying prone on the floor and firing magic missiles might not be a bad idea. Wham! Hit the barghest but good. I barely had time to smile about that before one of the other big demons gestured, and … a fog descended upon me. I had trouble focusing and it was hard to tell friend from foe. Rigel seemed affected similarly and Nolin … Nolin just stood there with a surprised look on his face. >From his expression he seemed to be trying to clear his head, but it was taking all his effort. He didn’t move. He didn’t swing. He didn’t speak. It was as if he’d gone unconscious but hadn’t yet fallen. (I found out later he’d been hit with Power Word Stun.)

I only vaguely remember the rest of the battle, because there were lucid moments (I remember some magic missiles and even another fireball) but they were interspersed with times when I felt Kane and Nolin were too close and I swung at them (I was wielding no weapon, and really – fully armored Nolin??).

In the meantime, the battle raged on, and eventually Avia, Rallo, and Sabin (with invaluable and timely healing from Kane and Takkad) managed to dispatch the barghest and the two demons. At some point, gravity returned to normal but I don’t recall when. I believe Takkad got the final smite on the last demon. Nolin startled out of his astonishment only to find that he, like I, had only moments of lucidity. He, however, was much more dangerous when he decided you were too close so everybody gave him a wide berth for another minute or two.

When I regained my senses, we were in a room with black stone pillars 40 feet tall. A 3-eyed jackal was carved into the floor, and that was our clue that we were in the foul presence of Lamashtu. Or at least, a cathedral dedicated to Lamashtu. There were alcoves to the north and south, and a stone pulpit partially buried by a collapsed part of the room.

And hundreds of scribblings. The Scribbler had done his work here. My study of the Thasselonian language is beginning to pay off, and I could read several of them. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to say anything of importance; the ones I looked at were simply graffiti.

Takkad cast True Seeing upon himself, certain there must be more here than meets the eye. That did reveal a secret door which he was able to show to Rigel, but she determined it was magically locked. Our wand of knock was used to open it, but it revealed a short corridor (crack in the rock, really) with nothing in it.

There was fog coming from an exit to the southwest, and Rallo took the form of an air elemental to clear the fog out. This was a very messy (that is, bloody) area and we soon came across more of the shadowy dog creatures.

Unfortunately, they did something this time that I don’t remember them doing before — one of them howled. The howl was so unearthly, so utterly alien that I couldn’t stand it. I had to get away from it .. and so I ran from the room.

Meaning my understanding of what subsequently happened is again reliant upon my companion’s accounts. I apparently was the only one affected by the howls. Since they were difficult to see in shadows, Kane threw down a torch to reduce the number of dark areas. Rallo lightninged three of them, and Sabin and Avia and Nolin began to steadfastly but grimly hack them to pieces.

Fortunately my fear didn’t last nearly as long as my confusion, and I came back in time to find only two of six hounds remaining, and I contributed a flaming sphere to add both light and heat to the equation. It didn’t take long for the remaining pair to be dispatched.

Around us was what looked to be wreckage from the Sandpoint guards. There wasn’t anything in the way of bodies, but armor and weapons we could identify from the guard did lay strewn about. Earlier the Scribbler had called to his allies not to destroy our bodies so that they could be reused .. were any of these dogs previously humans? Previously guards? Never can tell with this foul magic. One thing was clear — there did not seem to be any apparent food for these dogs, so they were eager to attack us. Perhaps these same dogs did attack the guards and consumed them completely. We’ll never know.

The scribbles continue here, but there is one section that is both readable and a little different from the others. It reads:

On frozen mountain Xin awaits
His regal voice the yawning gates
Keys turn twice in sihedron
Occulted runeforge waits within.

A runeforge? That’s supposed to be a pretty powerful artifact, but I don’t think it’s a good thing 🙂

We’re not done here yet. There are doors unopened and a missing Scribbler. May my wits be about me more than they have been, as we advance. One good thing – having run away so much I have many of my spells left 🙁

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; after noon ==

The Scribbler, which is what our loquacious friend called himself, appeared to have shrugged off Trask’s fireball and began to chant.

Perhaps half a dozen large, dog like creatures appeared around us, with deep black coats that seemed to meld into the shadows cast by our torches. Their teeth, it easy enough to see, were long and razor sharp. They let out a series of unearthly howls and attacked the party.

Rigel found herself down on the floor, beneath one of the slavering beasts, and called out for help. I cast Magic Circle Against Evil, which afforded some measure of defense against the dog fiends. Rarallo launched a volley of magic missiles at one, Nolin seriously crippled another, and Avia eviscerated a third, which vanished with a greasy “pop”.

We looked like we had the dog beasts well in hand when the Scribbler called out, “Now, my fiends, it is time, wait no longer!”

A barghest (a canine looking daemon) appeared between us and the door through which we entered, and two massive devils appeared to the west.

As bad as things looked, the situation was not yet dire. For one, the protection spell I had cast prevented the newly summoned creatures from approaching us, and for another, the dog like creatures were quickly dispatched by our fighters and magic users.

Sabin and Trask began to attack the barghest behind us, with Kane providing healing support, while the rest of us turned our attentions to the pair of disturbingly large devils squatting between us and the Scribbler.

But by now the devils were no longer passive bystanders to the battle. One of them cast a spell (I assume Chaos Hammer), which left Nolin, Trask and Rigel confused and stunned. I frantically tried to think of a spell that would counter the effects, but at the same time the gravity in the entire area where our team was standing reversed.

Avia appeared to have no trouble with this, and she gracefully performed a pirouette, turning head to foot as she slowly fell toward the ceiling.

The rest of us fared more poorly, with the most acrobatic of the group (Rigel and Kane) managing to land on their feet while the everyone else just dropped, landing hard.

Healing was called for, and as soon as we were able both Kane and I sent waves of positive energy about us, healing those injured by the fall.

Sabin continued to hack away at the barghest, which had fallen with us (but did not benefit from our healing efforts), eventually killing it.

Nolin was out of the fight entirely, laying in a heap on the ceiling with a blank look on his face. Likewise Rigel was of no use, and appeared to keep sticking herself with a rapier. Trask appeared to pass through moments of lucid thought, but just as often he appeared to be angry at Rarallo, who had fallen near him and was (at least in Trask’s mind) the cause of his current misfortune. Mercifully Trask’s anger was expressed by fits of slapping feebly at Rarallo, who returned the favor until putting some distance between himself and his ineffectual nemesis.

We had managed to orient ourselves on the ceiling for combat, and even sent a spell or two loose on the devils before us, but lightening appeared to have little affect on these bloated fellows, much to Rarallo’s chagrin, and with the reverse gravity in effect we had to move cautiously if we were to engage them.

Fortunately the devils were not aware that we were in a zone protected from evil, and when one of them tried to teleport among us to engage in melee, it found itself instead shunted off to one side, dumped on its head, and stunned for a round.

Avia and Sabin, who were standing next to it as it appeared, began to viciously hack at it, and black otherworldly blood splashed about the place.

The other devil remained out of reach, eventually dispelling my area of protection from evil, but too late to save its companion.

I cast Airwalk on Avia who marched out of the anti-gravity area toward the remaining devil, while Sabin, who had cast Fly on himself earlier, followed, pulling me with him.

The Scribbler was still somewhere in that direction as well, making cat calls about the fight,

“Now remember, my pet, don’t harm them such that I can’t use their bodies to create more undead minions!”

“While somewhat impressive, this conflict is nothing compared to what was done at Runeforge!”

Runeforge again! I called out for him to explain himself, but he simply tutted, “You had your chance to talk.”

By now Avia, Sabin and I had reached the devil, and the Scribbler fell silent after that, perhaps having read the writing on the wall — figuratively speaking, since having actually written all of the writing on the walls, he was already familiar with his own ranting.

Avia and Sabin began to slice and dice the devil, while Rarallo and Trask, who was no longer confused, launched magic missiles at it, and Rigel peppered it with arrows.

Sensing its imminent demise, the devil cried out to Avia, “Obviously you are a person of great power and prowess. You have but to stay your hand and I will grant you a wish.”

Avia made some sort of derisive snort as I cast Holy Smite, killing the devil.

We now had some time to take in our surroundings, as we looked about for the Scribbler.

This great room had one time been a cathedral to Lamashtu. A great image of a three eyed jackal was carved into the floor, which softly glowed a rusty red light. Six alcoves lined the walls, three on a side, each with its own statue of a jackal headed pregnant woman, with khukris clutched to their chests.

At the western end, a dais, where once an altar stood, was partially buried under the ceiling’s collapse.

By the south western most alcove was an enormous crack that had opened as part of the cataclysmic events that had caused the collapse. A thick fog lingered here, as it did at all of the other entrances and exits to this room.

The entire chamber glowed with an aura of an abjuration effect.

I cast True Seeing, in case the Scribbler was standing invisible nearby, but saw no sight of him. However, I did see a door magically disguised to look just like the wall. After pointing to the exact location of the door, the others were able to see it as well, but Rigel found that it was magically locked.

We used a wand of Knock to unlock the door, and were disappointed to find nothing but a fissure leading to the north, which shortly dead ended.

Rarallo took the form of an air elemental and blew the fog out from the crack to the southwest, as the rest of us followed. The crack lead to a natural tunnel that turned back eastward and opened onto a larger cavern, which was partially separated into three chambers, fashioned like large kennels.

Blood and entrails squished the floor, and as we entered we heard more howling, and soon more of the shadowy dog like creatures appeared around us.

Trask heard the howling and fled back into the cathedral, where we could here him running off with a fading wail. The rest of us stood fast, and Avia began to hack at the monsters as they closed in on her.

I was standing in a small fissure to the south, when a dog appeared out of the shadows and knocked me down. I am not cut out for combat, and so I cast a Protection of Evil spell, effectively blocking any attacks from that direction, and forcing the creatures over to Avia, Nolin and Sabin.

Trask regained his composure and returned to us, and moments later all of the canines had been killed.

More blood and gore lined the floor here, and scattered about were the armor and weapons from the six Sandpoint guardsmen who came down just a few days before.

The kennel walls were covered in writing, which I took the time to read, as I had done in the other chambers. Most of it was of the same sort of ramblings and lunatic rants as before, but in the southern chamber, near another fog filled crack leading west, I found something completely different:

On frozen mountain Xin awaits, His regal voice the yawning gates. Keys turn twice in Sihedron, Occulted Runeforge waits within.

A clue, no doubt, but what does it mean?

Is Xin the name of a mountain? We already know from our reading in the monastic library that Xin-Shalast was a great capital city of the runelords, and that “Xin” was a prefix often associated with Thasselonian sites.

This reminded me of the time when my cousin Menkat and I hired on with a party to find the lost lair of “Tark the Bastard”, a local legend among the people of the foothills of the Kodar Mountains. Tark was a half orc magic user from a generation ago who commanded a squad of potent adventurers that scoured the lands for treasure and magic artifacts. Some claimed he was just a glorified rogue, stealing from whoever proved to be an easy target; while others claimed he brought justice to this corner of the Storval Plateau, freeing the common folk from the tyrannical overlords who controlled the region.

Old Tark and his band were active for many years, and rumor circulated that his hideout was brimming with an amazing amount of treasure. When Tark and his party simply vanished from the region without a trace, people began searching for his loot.

No one was sure about the location of Tark’s stronghold, but a rogue named Pipper had found an old map of the area with a bit of rhyme scribbled on it, which was said to have been written by Tark himself. Pipper put together a squad of various talents, into which Menkat and I had hired in.

The rhyme on the map led us to a small cairn at the head of a valley, buried at the bottom of which was a flat stone tablet with another rhyme. This led us to a small cave on the Karzaron river, where carved into the wall was yet another rhyming riddle, which when solved revelaed the whereabouts of Tark’s hideout.

And so, after weeks of searching and research, and scrabbling about the scrubby and inhospitable lands, fighting off brigands, animals, thirst and hunger, we arrived at our destination. The entrance was located, traps disabled, a band of kobolds defeated, and we finally entered Tark’s long lost lair.

Bones, rusted weapons and armor, and dust were all we found. Almost all. Engraved upon the backrest of a stone throne carved in the native rock, in the same hand that had left the clues that lead us here, was Tark’s final message to any who might find their way here.

A word of advice among the bold,
Who make a living seeking gold.

Or magic, gems or items of wonder,
To horde in secret gathering plunder.

But then one day old age must come,
And all thy minions must keep mum.

To divvy all the precious loot,
Or chivvy them and give the boot.

For treasure split is treasure lost,
And this you may find too steep a cost.

A little arsenic will see it done,
Though arse thyself ye have become.

But now old Tark, his fortune made,
Has gone to Korsovo to get laid.

Menkat and I laughed all the way home. We could afford to. We were simply hired hands who had been paid a flat rate. But Pipper and his friends were in it for shares.

Anyway, the Scribbler’s bit of near nonesense may require a return trip to the monastic library for further research, but for now we still have the Scribbler himself to deal with.

A pair of grand, if not blasphemous, double doors we have left unopened behind, for I feel that our true goal down here lies beyond the fog filled crack before us.

Rarallo is preparing once again to assume an air elemental form and blow the way clear so we may proceed.

== Sunday, Erastus 6, 4708; Magnimar; late night ==

We searched the Black Tower (in the valley of the same name) for secret rooms or passages, but found none.

We lowered Derreldon’s body down into the cold crypt below, still wearing a Sihedron Amulet, and closed the secret trap door. It seemed appropriate that he, being a monk, should be laid to rest in a room purposefully built as a monk’s tomb. We will return as time allows to Hallow the place and add extra protections.

We then teleported to Magnimar and began the slow task of selling off our surplus inventory. Being Sunday, many of the larger main stream businesses were closed (as were all of the banks), and so selling off our more exotic items and exchanging the large amounts of copper and silver for something more portable must wait until tomorrow.

We set up a meeting with the Mayor for the following morning, and then each of us set out about our own private business. For most it was time to unwind and rest, and a suitable inn was found and rooms rented.

Nolin left to meet up with his old comrades in the City Guard, and Kane left to visit the Temple of Desna.

I had two things on my mind that gave me no peace: how to track down citizens with sihedron tattoos so they could be removed, and the where abouts of Xanesha — we had expected to find her lurking in Mokmurian’s lair, but I feared she must be still in Magnimar, working her ill-will against the city and its people.

My first stop was Pharasma’s Temple, which was not difficult to find, being easily the most Gothic structure in the city and situated next to a prominent cemetery (both as usual).

I was able to speak with the head priest, and explained my concerns. She had not seen or heard of any unusual tattoos on anyone, but an acolyte who was working nearby overheard our conversation and volunteered the following story.

“It was maybe a month ago when a woman, who was with child, came in. She was close to giving birth, but was in an unusual amount of pain, which is why she came to us. She had a tattoo where you’d normally never see it. And her child was stillborn, which was a blessing as it was deformed, like it was half animal, half child.”

She had never seen the woman before, but said her manner of dress indicated she was from one of the less affluent districts — probably Shadow.

Xanesha once haunted the Shadow district, and the story reminded me too much of Lamashtu for comfort. I strongly suspected our old nemesis was still operating in town, and that immediate action was called for.

I returned to the inn and rounded up everybody except Kane and Nolin. After hearing what I had found we were all eager to head out and find Xanesha, but first we returned to the temple where I could cast Scrying using their mirror dedicated for this purpose. Unfortunately the attempt failed, and so we’d have to locate Xanesha the hard way.

We set out as the sun was setting: our first stop was the Shadow Clock, that derelict edifice where the party had last faced Xanesha. That conflict had ended with a dead party member and Xanesha flying away.

It was as they had left it several months earlier. Signs of the battle scarred the tower, but it was obvious no one had been there since. Looking out from the top I could see the lights of the inns and public houses glowing beneath the colossal span of the Ironspire. The sounds of people drinking, wenching, and gambling drifted up from below. Gambling. That was where we would find Xanesha or her cohorts.

The nearest such business was seedy, but thronged with people lining the bar and seated at tables, heads close together as they conducted private business. A larger, boisterous crowd was gathered at the far end, crowding around the gambling tables. We made their way over to the action and surreptitiously looked over the players for sihedron tattoos peeping out from clothing.

Fortunately the night was warm and the patrons were dressed accordingly. After a minute or two Rigel discretely pointed to one of the players shooting dice, who’s tattoo occasionally peeked out from beneath his shirt as he leaned over to toss the dice onto the table.

Trask squeezed his way next to the man and looked on in wonder. It took little time for the tattooed man to notice what he took for a young man fresh from the farm on his first trip to the city. He talked Trask into putting up some gold in order to join the game, and began to explain the rules, which appeared to change as rapidly as the sides of the dice.

Meanwhile I sidled up to the bar and, after ordering a drink for which I put down too many coins, asked the barkeep about my friend’s new found playing companion. The barkeep said he was known as the Snake, and if I cared about my friend I would do good to keep on eye on him and his companions. He also mentioned that the Snake had a particularly cruel girlfriend, whom he described as a real piece of work.

This immediately got my attention, and I began to describe the woman for whom we were looking, to which the bartender replied in a low voice, “Do you mean Xanesha?” I confirmed that that was indeed the woman, and I explained how she was fooling innocent people into getting tattoos, which she claimed allowed them special access to certain events and locations, but which really harvested their souls for her dark master, a powerful mage.

At this the man became somewhat nervous, and wondered out loud how someone thus marked could escape this fate. Sabin had joined me by now and offered to use an Erase spell, which was a harmless way to remove the tattoo and break the binding. The barkeep cautiously lifted up his shirt and his tattoo vanished.

I pushed a small pile of coins across the bar and asked him to spread word around the Shadow District about the tattoo, its true deceitful purpose, and how desirable it was to have the thing removed. He grateful took the money and wholeheartedly agreed to spread the word.

While Sabin and I were having our conversation, Trask had bravely managed to lose all of his stake to the Snake and his friends. Rigel, who is an expert at all games of chance, had been watching and seen how the Snake and Friends had cheated, and so she put a sizeable stake of coins on the table and proceeded to clean up, in a friendly sort of way.

Upon seeing that Rigel was a serious “player” he invited her to go to a nicer house, with higher stakes. Rigel agreed as long as her friends, Avia and Trask, could come along, and so the four of them got up to leave.

I cast Status on the foursome as they left, while Sabin grabbed a boy cleaning tables and sent him off to fetch Nolin and Kane. We discretely watched as the Snake led our friends to another building some distance away, where after knocking on the door and speaking a password, they were all let in.

Sabin, Rarallo and I returned to the Clock Tower to await reinforcements.

In the gambling house, Rigel played several games with modest success, while Avia and Trask looked on. A young woman came over to Trask and introduced herself as Isabelle, then asked if he was playing. Trask replied no, and she invited him upstairs to a private party, where everyone wore masks. He said he’d come up and join her once Rigel had finished playing. She winked at him, ran a long fingered hand down his side, and told him not to be too long about it.

Eventually Rigel tired of the game, and the three made their way upstairs to the party. There was a hallway, and a handful of rooms, but no obvious signs of merriment, so they opened a door to a room where a handful of masked figures were standing around.

“What are you doing here?” barked one.

“Isabelle invited me, um, us,” stammered Trask.

Hearing her name, Isabelle appeared, wearing a medusa mask, and led our friends to a storage area where masks and other party essentials were stored. She indicated that they should select something appropriate to wear.

No sooner had the door closed than the eyes of Isabelle’s mask glowed green and rays of putrid green light shot out, striking Avia. But Avia shook off the intended effect, and said, “Your time has come, Xanesha!”

“Bring it on paladin!” spat Xanesha.

And the paladin did.

Xanesha, spitting out blood, cried “Curse this!” and vanished.

Trask, thinking quickly hastened himself, Rigel and Avia, and after briefly searching for a secret exit, they ran out from the room and down to the exit.

But the rest of us had not been idle during this time. Nolin and Kane arrived just as Xanesha had revealed herself to our friends, the shock of which registered with the Status spell, and I called out, “They are in need, we need to run!”

We raced through the streets toward the gambling house, and Rarallo sent a bolt of lightening before us, blasting the door to flinders so it would not impose any delays.

As we approached the doorway, Avia came running out shouting, “It was Xanesha, but she teleported away.”

Trask and Rigel joined her, and Trask, looking at the door (or where the door used to be) shook his head and created the illusion of a red dragon, “To provide a cover story for what blasted the door.”

At that moment a set of bright red rays engulfed Avia and Trask, and from down the street came a wicked laugh as Xanesha appeared, in her true Lamia Matriarch form.

Less than a moment later Sabin and Nolin were at her side — something she clearly did not expect — and Nolin savagely hacked at her. Avia, who was still hasted, charged in and beat the shit out of her. Xanesha was swaying unsteadily on her feet, and I could see she planned to flee combat once again, and so I sent an icicle in her direction, which sank into her chest as she dropped, joining the rest of the filth on the street.

Rigel then came up and casually cut off her head. “Nothing to see here!”

I looked down at the hideous, broken body of Xanesha at my feet and thought of all of the carnage she had caused. Vengance for my cousin Menkat’s death now seemed a small thing compared to all the other sufferings, but it still tasted sweet all the same.

We took the opportunity to explain to the gamblers and operators of the house who Xanesha was, and what she was doing in Magnimar. The thought of their tattoos being used against them unsettled most, and I have little doubt that by morning not one of those present would be left sporting a sihedron rune. Word of Xanesha’s treachery and betrayal should rapidly spread throughout the district, if not the entire city.

We took Xanesha’s mask and spear, the latter of which Sabin recognized.

[1010] Mask of the Medusa: a gold mask with eyes of green crystal. Grants +4 bonus to all saving throws for visual effects. Once per day the wearer can seen a pale green ray from the eyes to a target, which must make a Fortitude save (DC15) or be turned to stone (like Flesh to Stone) for 1 minute.

[1011] Impaler of Thorns: an Ancient Thassilonian weapon used for crowd control. A +1 spear of dark wood, once per day it can be used to create a burst of despair in a 30′ radius with a DC16 Willpower save (see Crushing Despair for a description of the effects). Those who fail must make an additional save (DC15) to avoid being nauseated.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Magnimar; mid morning ==

We met with the Lord Mayor, and explained what we found about the Runelord Karzoug, and his accomplice Xanesha. I explained the tattoos, and emphasized how important it was to set up some sort of city wide program to ensure that afflicted citizens could have their tattoos erased.

At first his Lordship was not particularly moved by our arguments, but after I explained how the tattoos would enable the return of an ancient power, who would most certainly look to conquering all of the major cities for himself, he began to warm up to the idea of having the city somehow assist.

I then offered up a plan whereby those who could afford it could pay for the removal of the tattoos for others, and that if each person who donated brought in others to donate, they would receive a share of that donation, and so on down the line. Quite naturally, I explained, the city would need to administer the program, taking an appropriate share required to manage it.

By then the Mayor was quite ecstatic about the program, and called in his financial administrators even as we were leaving.

We then finished selling off our excess items, got the coins exchanged, and purchased a few additional equipment and supplies.

We are about to teleport onto the Lost Coast Road, just south of Sandpoint, and walk to the city from there.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; noon ==

We entered Sandpoint, and were heartened to see reconstruction from the giant invasion and dragon’s fire well underway.

We have spoken with Mayor Devlin and Sheriff Hemlock, but they could only repeat what they had already said. Sandpoint was rocked by an earthquake, and soon thereafter the sinkhole appeared in the northwest corner of the town. At night an unholy howling can be heard from the sinkhole, and the guards who were sent down to investigate never returned. Later, cries of pain and agony had echoed up from the pit.

We peered down into the thirty foot wide crater and could see a passage leading off to the northwest. The southern end of the sinkhole exposed the cells of the city garrison, which provided easy access to the bottom of the pit, some fifteen feet below street level.

Hauling out Olithar’s journal and map entries I judged that the sinkhole was approximately where the underground temple had been, with its (now) inactive (or so we hoped) rune well.

I have taken Olithar’s old map of Sandpoint and sketched in the location of the sinkhole, and have copied his map of the underground complex into my journal so I can update it as needed.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; after noon ==

The narrow passage from the sinkhole had a smooth, worked wall on the right, and a rough jumble of stone and earth on the left. Following it we soon reached a short set of steps leading down before sharply turning to the left. A door was on the right hand side of the junction, and a set of collapsed double doors further down the left passage, set in the right wall.

Comparing this arrangement with Olithar’s map it became apparent that part of the ceiling of the ancient underground temple had given way, and the passage was in fact the southeastern edge of this main chamber. Although littered with rubble, the area beyond the double doors matched Olithar’s map, and on the ground we could see fresh boot marks leading further into the complex.

We followed the prints, which led deeper into the Thassilonian ruins, through rooms, passageways and chambers where my companions had explored more than a year before. The rubble and damage caused by the sinkhole petered out as we went further in, and soon there was but a fine layer of dust on the floor, in which it was easy to see the prints of the ill-fated Sandpoint guardsmen.

In and down and around we walked until once again we encountered rubble strewn about the floor. This time it was at the top of a spiral staircase leading down.

Nolin volunteered that, “This was blocked the last time we were here, but it looks as if someone has removed the rubble.”

Olithar’s map confirmed this.

The boot marks led down, and so we followed until we ran into large spider webs blocking the stairs. Trask used a flaming sphere to burn these away, but found the stairway simply dead ended at what we assumed to be the bottom. Rigel squeezed forward and found a latch to a secret door, which she skillfully opened.

Wispy tendrils of cold, clammy fog wafted in from the darkness to the west.

We paused here to organize ourselves, and I have taken the opportunity to update our progress.

== Moonday, Erastus 7, 4708; Sandpoint; after noon ==

I know not what function this chamber served, but entering it sent a chill through my soul. The well worked stone walls, floors and archways were covered in Thassilonian writings… but the size, style and means by which the words were written varied.

Some passages are written in bold, blocky letters three feet tall, while others are in the smallest, most graceful script imaginable. Some words are written in a greasy black ink, and no small amount appear to be in a dark brown substance that can only be dried blood, and no few have been engraved into the stone itself.

Peculiar patches of magic fog cling to the eastern doorway, through which we came, and to the north, where a rough corridor dead ended. A door in the eastern wall to the corridor was locked, but Rigel’s nimble fingers quickly unlocked and opened it to reveal a very short hall with another locked door.

This locked proved no more difficult to Rigel than the last, and soon we opened the door and looked in to see a round room with a round pool in the center rimmed by a lip of stone. A domed ceiling arched overhead and runes covered every surface, praising Lamashtu, goddess of deformed creatures. The water itself was perhaps three to four feet deep and lightly radiated an aura of evocation.

Back in the main chamber a set of closed double doors, bearing the engraved likeness of a three eyed jackle (the symbol of Lamashtu) were set in the south wall, while westward a wide hallway appeared to open up to a much larger room.

But now a voice speaks out from the darkness: a grating, screechy sound speaking in ancient Thassilonian, and I shall attempt to record here all that is said as the conversation unfolds.

Voice: Greetings good people, what news of the world? What can you tell me of the Runelords who govern the lands?

Takkad: The Runelords are long dead, and only a few scholars remember them or their deeds.

Voice: What great power replaced these mighty rulers?

Takkad: While there are many empires, there is no single great empire: ancient Thassilon has crumbled to dust, and only a handful of ruins remain.

Avia: I sense a very evil presence over to the west.

Voice: Who in these lands wields the greatest power?

Takkad: There are many who wield mighty powers, but do not feel the need to subjugate others to prove their greatness.

Trask: I wield great power.

Voice: So there are no true wielders of great power left in the world, just impotent little war lords gnawing over their insignificant territories, or rag tag wanderers like yourselves.

Trask: No, really. I do wield great power.

Avia: If you are so powerful, then why do you hide in the shadow? Reveal yourself!

A fiendish humanoid appeared to the west, wearing a breast plate, and wielding a wicked looking falchion in one hand, and a dagger in the other. One of his eyes was glazed over — completely milky white — and he smiled at us with what I can only describe as an insane grin.

Takkad: The free peoples of the world represent far more power than your ancient, cruel overlords.

Voice: From what you say, nothing in the world today can compare to the great Runelords, and their Runeforge…

Trask: I said, I WIELD GREAT POWER!

A fireball has engulfed the figure — Trask!

The black tower becomes the final resting place for Derreldon. I still say this would make a great meat locker; the cold should keep meat for a long time. But at least for now this will be used as Derreldon final resting place. The thought occurred to me that we would place longtooth’s carcass down hear in case there are body parts that could be sold off for profit, This though did not occur to me until we already in Magnimar. Luckily for me I spent the time in columned hall studying an area so that in the near future I will be able to teleport back. With the use of teleport so effectively used in the longtooth situation I briefly had thoughts that with the combination of teleport and fireball I could get even with my old clan.

Back to Magnimar via teleport we went, such as great spell. On the way to the in I dropped off a vial of longtooth’s blood to my old master; I may be a little greedy keeping two bottles of dragon’s blood while only giving him a small vial. I just remember him talking about always nearly being out of dragon’s blood, this should keep him going for awhile. Walking through the streets the smell of cinnamon in the air provided instant memories of the cinnamon bread baked fresh daily by the bakery just ahead. The bakery was still open and I purchased the last loaf, combined with beer this truly a wonderful meal. I was taking a shortcut through an alley on my way back to the inn when three combatants from my early days as a wizard blocked the alleyway ahead. My plan was to head over to the agreed upon inn for a meal but three young wizards stood between me and my meal.

Teddy: “So you have the nerve to show your face in Magnimar again. Obviously we need to teach you another lesson. This time your feeble shield spell is not going to help you. ”

John: “Come on lets get started I want to see if catches on fire when we hit him with scorching ray.”

Teddy: “Tell you what you give us all your money and equipment and we will let you crawl out of this alley. You don’t want to mess with us. That ax of yours isn’t going to help you, we will burn you before you can get close.”

Sabin: “Go bother someone else before you get hurt. Besides by the time you get close enough to use scorching ray you will close enough for me to hit you with this ax. “

Teddy” Your just trying..AH”

Dimension Door to right in front of the three of them.

Sabin in an intimidating voice: “Leave me alone or I will rip off your arms and feed them to the dogs!”

Teddy: “AH AH”

All three looked to be shaken as I walked past them down through the streets to the inn. The rest of the trip back to the inn was uneventful and I have just completed my wonderful meal.

Takkad has just returned and has a determined look upon his brow. Looks like it is time to get back to work. At least he did not interrupt my meal.