Category Archives: RotR Journal Entries

Journal entries for the Rise of the Runelords campaign

Character: Takkad

Takkad’s Journal Entry for February

== Moonday, Abadius 6, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

This group appears to be a little disorganized, or perhaps it is their grief over their fallen comrade that makes them so unobservant of those around them.

I have watched them come and go from the common room of The Copper Griffin for much of the afternoon and learned a bit about each of them.

There are two fighters, muscular and well equipped, who seem all business with dour expressions and few words — all of them direct and to the point. They seem like lawful types, and the woman is probably a paladin. I take it from what little conversation of theirs I’ve overheard that the man was once a member of the Magnimar guard, but the background of the other is uncertain.

A very young man is a ranger or a spell caster, and this one is very talkative. Too talkative. Every thought that passes through his head seems to leap from his tongue as if escaping the cluttered and claustrophobic place of its birth. Or maybe this is but an act to put others off their guard.

And then there is the odd couple: a halfling and a small human woman. The two are inseparable and seem to have the same grace and furtive movements as Cyrith of the light fingers and dubious morals. The halfling seems very concerned about the safety of the woman, and hovers about her like a fruit fly about an over ripe peach. Maybe she is pregnant with his child?

I have met few half orcs in my travels, and none so friendly and talkative as Sabin. Or it might have been the large amount of drink he had consumed before staggering over to my table. Heavy with drink or not, he was still guarded in his conversation, and while he was willing to discuss adventuring in general, he shared nothing specific about the rest of his party or what they have been doing. He appears to be a rare blend of warrior and magic user.

I will continue my visits to the inn until either Sabin introduces me to his companions, or there is a good opportunity to introduce myself.

Watch and wait.
== Fireday, Abadius 17, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

I have finally been introduced to the entire party, although it came about in a rather haphazard way.

Sabin and I were quietly talking at our usual table when several of his friends came over and sat down. The young man, Trask (definitely a spell caster) has started training and had a lot to share about it. Quite a lot. And before I knew it the entire group was gathered around listening to Trask while eyeing me with curiosity and suspicion.

As Trask showed no sign of slowing down, Sabin, Nolin (the warrior) and I went over to another, quieter table to talk business. We exchanged stories about our respective encounters with Xaneesha and her cult, and I learned that they had lost their primary healer in their assault on the Shadow Clock.

Their loss was certainly to my benefit as I specialized in healing and other clerical matters.

It turns out that the party had formed in an impromptu manner only six months before to deal with some unpleasantness in the coastal town of Sandpoint. They share their profits evenly among themselves, which is a pleasant change from the usual arrangement.

The paladin is Avia; the halfling is Kane, who is actually a healer; and Rigel serves as the party’s expert treasure hunter.

They were interested in my story of the cultists and my group’s failed trip to the saw mill, and said they would contact me later if they were interested in my services.

No doubt they would check out as much of my story as possible, although little enough of it is public knowledge.

No matter, I will continue my evening meetings with Sabin for friendship sake alone.

Watch and wait.

== Sunday, Abadius 19, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

The group has decided to use my services, but for the time being there is little for us to do.

Neither they, nor I, nor my Irregulars have heard anything unusual that could be attributed to Xaneesha or her cultists.

Could it be that my new found friends had actually destroyed Xaneesha without realizing it, or is she is biding her time before acting again?

Nothing split seven ways is nothing, and while my daily expenses are small, they do exist, and my gold reserves are slowly dwindling.

Watch and wait.

== Toilday, Calistril 11, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

We gathered again this evening because the Lord Mayor has hired us (300 gold pieces each in advance!) for a special job.

A town to the north, Turtleback Ferry, had been having trouble with a number of ogres and their ilk and had requested aid from the nearby cities. Magnimar had been the only one to respond and sent a troupe of rangers, the Order of the Black Arrows, to set up an outpost there and deal with the problem.

Things had gone well for some time, with regular reports arriving weekly from their headquarters at Fort Rannick. But the reports stopped coming and were now long overdue, and the Mayor was concerned over the safety of his rangers.

We were to travel up to Turtleback Ferry and investigate.

Trask still has a week’s worth of training, but the rest of us will prepare for the trip and we will leave on the 18th.

== Wealday, Calistril 12, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

We had a small surprise this afternoon. We were gathered together in the The Copper Griffin’s common room when an elf clad as a ranger came over and asked to come along on our trip to Turtleback Ferry.

Her name is Shalelu, and my companions all knew her, but it became much colder at Rigel’s end of the table, and I noticed her glaring at the elf. At first I thought this must be some former lover of Kane’s, but Trask rather gleefully asked about someone named Sedgewick, whom apparently rather abruptly left the party (in general) and Rigel (in particular) to run off with Shalelu months before.

Shalelu is familiar with the way to Turtleback Ferry, which will prove useful, and so quite naturally we all voted for her to come along (with Rigel abstaining).

== Moonday, Calistril 17, 4708; Magnimar, The Feisty Fox; Evening ==

We leave on the morrow and I spent part of the week rounding up each of the Irregulars. I gave each a gold piece with the caution that it might be the last payment they receive from me for quite some time.

Most of them are street savvy and wise for their ages, but for some of the youngest ones I made sure they had an older companion to look out for their interests while I was away.

The most talented of my band of spies, an eleven year old girl who answers to Atuni, I have left with an organization with whom she can build a future. I have paid for her tuition and boarding for a full year, and have little doubt she will be more than able to earn her own way beyond that should I not return.

== Toilday, Calistril 18, 4708; The Lost Coast Road; Evening ==

Finally, we are on the coast road not far from Sandpoint. We have been riding steadily all day long and hope to complete our journey in 10 days or less.

The conversation around the small camp fire turned to encounters on previous trips along this same road. On one such trek they saw a huge black winged horse, known locally as the Sandpoint Devil, leap into the sky. On another a group of gigantic lizards attacked them.

They also discussed some haunted mansion to the west of here called “The Misgivings”, where apparently they still had unfinished business of which they spoke with dread.

We’ve set the schedule for the watch that we will follow for the remainder of the trip. I share the third watch with Nolin.

It will be a cold night.

== Oathday, Calistril 20, 4708; Nybor; Evening ==

We arrived in Nybor after dark. The trip has thus far been uneventful, which is hardly to be surprised with such a large group of well arrayed travellers, each mounted on his or her own war horse.

The town is small and it is hard to tell much about it in the dark, but they have an inn with four rooms for us to share, and a hot meal is waiting.

== Fireday, Calistril 21, 4708; The Sanos Forest; Evening ==

Nybor must be a picturesque town, perched on the southern most shores of the Ember Lake, and the western end of the Sanos Forest, but we left before dawn and so its charms remained masked by the darkness.

We crossed the river on town ferry, which is guided by one set of ropes and is pulled across by another. It took two crossings to get all of us and our horses over, and from there the trail immediately plunged into the dim forest.

Shalelu said the trail was safe enough, as long as you harbored no ill will towards gnomes. We saw a few gnomes at the inn, but we will be passing to the east of a large gnome settlement on our way through the Sanos. I have met many gnomes and get along with them as well as any other race, although I admit to chuckling out loud when I remember poor Og’s comment, “They taste like chicken!” I’m fairly sure he was joking.

It made for a nice change to move through the forest, and the soft earth trail covered by a cushion of leaves and needles has met with the approval of our steeds.

It is oddly quiet, but more in a muffled sort of way than disturbing.

Thick clouds rolled in after lunch, but it does not feel like rain. Darkness came early beneath the canopy, and we were forced to make camp before our usual time. We are mindful of the forest, and our camp fire is quite small compared with the blazes from our previous evenings on the road.

== Starday, Calistril 22, 4708; The Sanos Forest; Evening ==

A giant snake attacked our camp last night during Nolin’s and my watch, but we quickly dispatched it; and I spent the rest of our watch butchering the animal and smoking its flesh over the fire. Snake is tasty, and there is enough here to last us for a long while.

The day itself passed without event, or a glimpse of the sun for that matter, but other than a few hesitant drops, it has remained dry.

== Oathday, Calistril 27, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Evening ==

The cold rain began overnight, and we quickly broke camp and continued along the path. The forest soon gave way to an open but boggy woodlands, and not long after that we came to the end of the trees altogether. A long sliver of marshy ground, the Shimmerglens, stretches from Coal Lake to the north down nearly all of the way to Lake Syrantula. The Skull River flows through the middle of this land of fens, connecting the two lakes.

The rain renewed its assault with vigor, and travel by horseback would have proven all but impossible but for the most remarkable of structures: a boardwalk, aptly named “The Wicker Way”, which connected the Old Sanos Way to the small hamlet of Bitter Hollow on the river.

There is little to commend about Bitter Hollow, other than the strong will of its people, who built and maintained the passage over the marsh. But the town is filthy, as if all of the industry of its citizens was expended upon the Wicker Way, leaving none for cleaning.

We paused briefly to barter our smoke snake meat for some supplies at The Gator’s Nest, and pushed on through the wet and gathering gloom.

We were thoroughly soaked by the time we rode into Turtleback Ferry and sought refuge at the town’s only inn, The Turtle’s Parlor.

We queried the inn keeper about the rangers at For Rannick. He said the fort was thirty miles up the river, and the that rangers mostly kept to themselves, but came into town on a regular basis. It had been at least two weeks since their last visit, which he admitted was unusual.

== Fireday, Calistril 28, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Morning ==

After a comfortable night spent in the common room next to the large hearth we purchased more provisions for the trek north. As the inn keeper bustled about, Trask noticed a small tattoo on the innkeeper that looked like a sihedron.

We carefully looked at the other people milling about, and noticed another man with the same tattoo.

I mentioned the tattoo to the innkeeper, and he was reluctant to talk about it, but with a little encouragement he told us a disturbing story.

A while back a large boat showed up on the lake, run by an elegant lady who offered various forms of entertainment like gambling, drinking and whoring. The quality of services offered by Lucretia on the Paradise were well above average, and each evening the boat would dock at Turtleback Ferry, take on its load of eager customers, and then sail out into the lake until the wee hours of the morning.

Regular customers were offered the seven rayed star tattoo, which would give them discounts on board the Paradise.

A few weeks ago the entire boat with a full load of customers caught fire and sank into the murky waters of the lake — a lake filled with ferocious predators that prevented escape or any sort of investigation of the sunken wreck.

We none of us liked this news. There is too much coincidence here: the sihedron symbol associated with a beautiful and powerful woman — just as in Magnimar.

== Fireday, Calistril 28, 4708; Ogrekin Farm Stead; Noon ==

The rain resumed its steady assault as we followed the road north and back over the river. We caught glimpses of the very southern tip of The Storval Deep, on the far northern shores of which my clan has made many a camp.

The rain slowed and then stopped as ragged clouds parted to reveal a few patches of blue. The tips of mountain peaks peeped over the tops of the trees, but as we moved north the forest closed in, limiting our view to a hundred yards in any direction.

Shalelu lead the way, but it was Kane and Rigel who heard the muffled cries of an animal in pain. Rigel crept through the undergrowth and came upon a bear with its leg caught in a steel trap. It saw Rigel and let out a whimper, like a dog. The rest of us gathered around, and when Rigel released the trap the bear lavished her face with wet sloppy kisses.

Obviously this was a companion to someone… probably a ranger. I healed the bear’s wound as we heard the approaching sound of dogs baying. We moved forward into a small clearing when the pack of dogs burst through the shrubs and attacked.

The dogs were quickly killed, but a loud humanoid came crashing into the clearing where it stopped and stared at us. It wiped the drool from its chin before shouting out, “I is hunting that bear, so unless you wants to be hunted too you better stay clear.”

It looked like a small, deformed ogre — an ogrekin: the misbegotten offspring of an ogre and some poor captive. It then noticed the slain dogs laying about and burst into tears sobbing, “My dogs! My dogs!”

Trask was able to talk it into surrendering its spear (a very nice weapon), and then got it to tell us about where it came from. It, or he, said his name was Rukus, and he lived with his “mammy” and siblings a ways further on. He got his spear from the humans that his family had caught “and killed and et.”

He then showed us a blanket he carried that his mammy made, and Shalelu gasped: it was made from a collection of Black Arrows emblems!

We sent Rigel and Avia ahead to explore, and another ogrekin attacked them, but they made short work of it. They continued on until they caught sight of a farm-stead — a house and a barn — a mile or so from our clearing.

[244] +1 ogre hook
[245] iron ring of +1 protection (Avia)
[246] amulet of +1 natural armor (Nolin)
[247] +1 spear
[248] belt of +2 strength (Nolin)

Rukus was sent along to meet his brother in ogrekin heaven, and quietly we made our way to the small settlement. It was all in a ruinous state of disrepair and unpleasant smells wafted out from both buildings. Sad patches of crops could still be seen amidst the riot of weeds, but they were all wilted and dying.

Small human fetishes, made from sticks and bits of fabric and stuffed with mud and human hair, were set out about the path that led up to the house.

We opted to check out the house first, reasoning the ogrekin would be more comfortable in the barn and might use the house to keep prisoners. The windows on the first floor were boarded up, and there was a wide porch up front and a rickety set of stairs leading up.

The porch roof was held aloft by thick pine pillars crudely carved to depict gruesome things: manticores impaling children, wolves devouring women, and other obscenities. A large rocking chair made from various body parts sat off to one side while a wind chime of human bones clattered in the breeze.

Kane, Avia and Sabin climbed onto the porch and listened for a while, but all was quiet within. Sabin then opened the door, and as he did spikes shot out from the wind chimes as blades cut up through the floor boards, slashing the trio. I was surprised that Rigel had not gone up to check for traps, but apparently Kane has some skill in this area, but had simply forgot.

After a small amount of healing Rigel and I went into the house and the others followed, although Shalelu and the bear remained outside. It stank within. Really badly. The interior decor matched the exterior: a dire beg pelt lay on the floor before a large couch made from all sorts of disgusting things.

Avia detected an evil presence to the left, and so we checked the only other door for traps. The door opened to a large hallway that continued north, and branched to the left, with various closed doors on either side. Rigel did the usual for the door to the left, and Avia burst into the room.

A giant bed took up much of the space, and laying upon it was a gross, bloated ogrekin, with layers of fat rolling down from its head in waves, and pustules that wept greasy yellow excretions. Atop its head were thin lank locks of oily hair, and it opened its jowly mouth and shrieked for its offspring to come to its aid.

There was little doubt we had found mammy.

Keeping her company was a triplet of ogrekin, each boasting some horrific deformity, but all undead. They pressed the physical attack while surprisingly mammy launched devastating magical attacks that sapped abilities. Rigel moved in with her bow and began to shoot things at point blank range with good results.

Avia took the brunt of the spell effects, but still managed to cut through one of the undead ogrekin. Sabin also joined in the action, and I wiggled into the room to channel energy against the surviving two undead, which were quickly destroyed.

Mammy was of sterner stuff, and things may have gone worse had Sabin not touched her with an Enfeeblement spell, rendering her mostly impotent, and eventually dead.

This place makes me want to vomit: there are coffins in the north side of this room containing the remains of who knows what, and the stench is truly awful.

But we must find out what happened to the rangers, and so we press on.

[249] masterwork quarter staff
[250] potion of Cure Moderate Wounds
[251] scroll of Animate Dead
[252] wand of level 3 magic missile [43 charges]
[253] wand of Enfeeblement [27 charges]
[254] wand of vampiric touch [33 charges]
[255] belt of +2 constitution
[256-257] Varisian dolls [used when summoning creatures for extra HD]

ogrekin

Character: Trask

The Journal of Trask Feltherup

Moonday, 6 Abadius

In the end, my hearing was not faulty.  I did hear “spider climb” and I did hear ropes, and I did indeed hear “long way to fall”.  So we’re going to ascend the tower, from the outside, during broad daylight, with the crowd watching.

So Father, if you’re reading this between blood spattered pages, please do thank the person who brought you this journal and ask them if they know what became of my body.

For the first time I can remember — and perhaps it’s because this is such a public endeavour — I do feel apprehension.  You never mentioned this, Father, but perhaps it’s natural not to admit to your son that there will be times when you are scared but can’t do anything about it.

There is a shy but attractive girl in the gathering crowd that I saw at the market when I was picking up rope, and since I don’t believe we’re ready for this ascent just yet, I think I’ll go talk with her a bit as a bit of pleasant distraction.

Moonday, 6 Abadius

How prophetic my feeling was.  How profoundly prophetic.  All hail Trask the prophet, and then curse him for having blurry vision and not seeing the true target of misfortune.

Right after Avia rudely broke into my conversation with the girl, just as she was about to tell me more about where she lived and a bit more about the area, and had offered to

Ok, I have to write this.  I thought paladins were above petty emotions like jealousy but I really think Avia crossed the line, just because I was talking with someone my own age and she felt threatened.  I do agree that she is strong and skilled but I don’t see how that affords her the right to dictate who I talk to and find interesting.  A simple “we’re ready” would have done fine.

Anyway, so after my having been physically dragged away from the young lady, we all positioned ourselves in front of the tower, and Sabin cast Spider Climb on himself while the rest of us received the spell by virtue of the six scrolls we (well, Kane and Rigel) had bought.  (That ran us an astounding 1000 gold pieces.  When I think of how I was scrabbling for silver on my trip here, I’m reminded of how much has happened in just a few months.)  The seven of us arranged ourselves two to a side but one side, of course, had only one.  And up we went, much to the pleasure of the crowd, judging from the ooos and ahhhs.

Little of import happened until we reached the scaffolding near the top of the tower.  The four of us nearest the scaffolding had been suffering the occasional brick being tossed down at us by something so we knew we’d be pausing there to deal with something.  And so it was that Sabin, Nolin, Avia and I found three of the faceless creatures we’d seen in Aldrin’s townhouse, and once we neared they brandished their weapons and the battle began in earnest.  Although these creatures were powerful, fate had placed our three strongest fighters in their path. With some maneuvering, I was able to arrange line of sight so that I could toss in the occasional magic missile.

When the first one died, Nolin cheerfully announced it had to go over the side.  “The crowd,” he explained.  “A body falling from the tower will show them we’re really doing things.”  It had a strange twisted sense of logic to it, so over the side it went.  And we heard a noise come up from the crowd below as it hit the ground about 150 feet below: “ohhhhhhhh”.

While this battle was happening, the other three were still ascending. With the clock tower being between 30 and 40 feet on a side at this point, they were unaware that we had stopped to fight.  They could neither see nor hear the evidence of battle, and so they kept going.

The swordplay and magic missiles continued on the scaffolding and it wasn’t long before another fleshy corpse was hurled to the ground below. (“ohhhhhhhh.”)  With only one creature and three fighters left, I saw little I could add to the battle, so I continued my ascent of the last 20 feet or so.  When the last creature was defeated and sent plummeting (“ohhhhhhh.”) the others also continued their ascent.

It is well that we went up as quickly as we did.  By the time I got up there, I could see an inhuman yet strangely attractive half-dressed woman with bat wings flying slowly around the building, and Rigel and Kane seemed to be silently battling some sort of serpent woman with a very long ornate spear.  She was wearing a mask and …

And I realized I couldn’t hear a thing.  A quick word out loud to myself confirmed that there was probably a spell of silence in this area. Quickly reviewing my spells, I realized that there was none that I could cast silently.  Almost anything offensive, though, required line-of-sight, so I couldn’t step away to cast it if it caused me to lose sight of my enemy.  I found it odd that Olithar was not up here already, but perhaps he, like I, was seeking a place where he could say his spells. Since spider climb did not require I necessarily have a rope to climb, I ducked and scampered across the face of the walls, trying to reach the other side where I expected to find Olithar.  I found that only a few feet below the edge of the roof, the silence ended, and I also found that it was not uniform all the way around the roof.  I hoped that when I reached the other side I might find Olithar and a place I could use my spells.

About this time the three fighters came up, and Avia immediately engaged the creature.  Its spear was wicked fast, and although she took damage as she approached she steadfastly made her way to within her weapon’s reach and made it pay dearly for its attack on our party.  This snake lady, however, was not going to go down easily.  Meanwhile, the creature we presumed was Xaneesha continued to survey the battle, flying slowly around the building.

I poked my head up on the other side of the roof and discovered that while the silence did not extend as far down the wall here, it did still prevent me from even poking my head over the wall and speaking.  But I did see Avia battling the creature, and Nolin and Sabin coming to the top of the roof themselves, but I now was on the backside.

And there was still no sign of Olithar, here, on the side of the building he was supposed to be on, and I began to feel a tingle of concern move up and down my spine.  There was no sign of him on this wall that I could see.  I began to fear the worst.

Refocusing, I remembered from previous battles that our swordsmen had commented how much easier it was to strike an opponent who was concerned about an attack from the rear. So although I really am not well suited for close attack as others in our group were, I realized I was the only one on the backside of this creature. Soon she would have three formidable swordsmen in front of her, and if a distraction from the rear afforded them a better opportunity to defeat her, it seemed well worth it.  Besides, she couldn’t strike at all of us at once and although I was a distraction, I was much less a threat and might well provide a distraction without great danger to my much lesser armored self.  As a sorceror, I was rather useless in an area of silence anyway; here was a way I could contribute.

So I too engaged the creature, who noticed me instantly.  In the next attack she managed to get two jabs at Avia and one at me.  Wicked fast, I remembered belatedly as blood poured from my wound.

Emboldened, Rigel too was able to surprise the creature with an arrow (with surprisingly good results — she must have been practicing!) Avia continued to weaken it, and Nolin and Sabin joined their swords to the effort.  Bereft of my magic missiles and burning spheres, I brought out the claws and cut her up a little too.

I had a brief feeling of despair, like we weren’t winning the battle, but of course we were and I shook it off.  A quick glance, however, at the faces of Rigel and Nolin suggested they’d been hit by the same feeling and were fighting on grimly but with less enthusiasm.  Another spell, I realized.

Suddenly, she took to the air.  No longer in close quarters, Avia was able to peg her with a quick arrow before she winked out of sight. Xaneesha stopped circling and landed at one corner of the roof. Rigel shot an arrow at her and she too winked out of sight.  Hindsight suggests, since that was the first hit she’d taken, that she had been nothing more than a phantasm all along.  In fact, with greater hindsight, I realized that the creature we’d been battling was, in all likelihood, actually Xaneesha.

We noticed the silence had ended, and Kane hastily stumbled over his words as he told us that Olithar had actually been the first to engage Xaneesha, if you can call being turned to stone at first glance an engagement.  As we gaped, he continued that she had then pushed him over the edge and he had fallen over 150 feet to the ground below and broken into several pieces.  I glanced down and could make out a pile of stones which had been our friend. “I have a mend spell,” I said. “I’ll go down and put him back together and maybe we can do something for him.”  I started to descend.

Suddenly Xaneesha appeared one more time, hovering in the air, and shot a scorching ray which blistered Avia.  I stopped my descent and took the opportunity to send another magic missile her way, which struck most satisfyingly.  And then she disappeared again.  I hesitated, wanting to help Olithar but not wanting to abandon my friends if she were still present.  Avia tried to sense evil, but couldn’t find any sign of her. Perhaps she was gone for good.

And then, from below, we heard the most awful, gurgling scream that was quickly cut off.  The crowd, even from 180 feet up, seemed agitated and one or two broke away to inspect the broken status before backing away and pointing.  And I realized, there was no help for our friend.  The transformation to stone had been temporary, and the intended mending not in time.  He had resumed flesh form, but having been broken into several pieces, he quickly (we can hope) died, bleeding profusely onto the ground around him.

It took us almost two minutes to descend safely to the ground and make our way over to him.  By then it was certainly too late to do anything.  Kane explained that Olithar had no sooner realized that there was an area of silence over the roof than Xaneesha had turned her attention to him.  Her eyes had glowed green, Olithar startled … and then turned to stone.  No opportunity to defend himself, no opportunity to draw a foe’s blood. Her rush to then push him over the edge telegraphed what we could not know: the spell was not permanent, and if the battle went on long enough, he would become a threat again when the spell wore off.

And so, an ignominious — dare I say igneous? — end to our comrade. Like many of us, he had made arrangements in the case of his death, and first among them was an admonition that he was not to be brought back. Such an action would cost us thousands of gold even if we could arrange it, but his wishes took the possibility out of our hands.

We had on occasion discussed theology, he and I, and he was astounded to find that I considered clerics and paladins to simply be adept at manipulating magical energy, much as I am, and that I considered gods, churches, and religion in general to simply be a complex means of focusing upon the energy around us and manipulating it.  For me, I seem to be able to gather it and have it flow to me, but for people with “divine powers” they seem to require the trappings of the office — the garb, the weaponry, the symbols, the devotion — to attain the same command of magic.  They attribute this to gods while not realizing their own capabilities.

Although I dearly wish I could have such a discussion with him again, I see now the truth of my position.  If gods existed, and had power upon this earth, how could they allow something so evil as Xaneesha so meaninglessly take the life of not just a random person, but one of those few supposedly chosen to expand that god’s influence on earth? What’s the point of being a priest if you don’t get special treatment? If such gods exist and they treat those most loyal to them so shabbily, why on earth would anybody else give them the time of day?  No, it’s even more clear now that the pantheon of gods is just a human construct for explaining some people’s skill with magical energy.

We disagreed on this very basic belief, but still, it was always in a respectful way, and I shall miss him. I take no pleasure in being shown right.

It turns out that Rigel, that human truffle pig, had nosed around the areas at the rooftop and found a non-magical scroll [243] that was a list of names.  Many were crossed off, and we recognized them as victims from both Magnimar and Sandpoint.   It was clear by the mere existence of the list that the victims chosen were not at all random.  We had noted earlier that they seemed to come from all walks of life, but this list underscored that the collection, as a whole, was precisely designed and chosen to be a cross-section of the city and countryside.  To what end, I don’t rightly know.

Most notable among the names not yet crossed off were the mayor, and our own Rigel, which evoked an odd combination of pride and paranoia from her.  However, next to the mayor’s name were numerous notes about his comings and goings, his eating habits, his travel plans — many personal notes about his life.  If he was not yet a victim, he was destined to be soon unless he made some changes.

The guard was adamant about not being able to take us to the mayor until we made mention of what information this scroll held.  They paled and said they would talk to a supervisor.  So it was that Nolin and Sabin visited the mayor later that day; Nolin due in part to his having strong connections to the city, and Sabin due in part to his being particularly bored, I think. I can’t imagine he went along to facilitate the conversation.

They returned telling us that the mayor took the news most seriously, and had said he would see not only to his on safety but all of those on the list.  Nolin skeptically relayed this part, indicating by his gestures and inflection that he tended to believe they had simply been humored on the visit.  The mayor had stated, however, that if the killings did indeed stop for a week after this latest battle, we would be rewarded for our service to the town.

For our part, we’ve agreed to protect Rigel regardless of the mayor’s intentions, and Rigel graciously agreed to being the object of our protection, deciding that she liked being among the living and not becoming the canvas for a seven sided piece of grisly art.

Moonday, 13 Abadius

Seven days to the hour, Sabin and Nolin and I returned to the mayor’s office for a followup visit.  There have been no more killings, but we were unsure if the mayor meant what he said.  Can’t hurt to ask.  And to be honest, I can’t say if the absence of ritual murders was because she has truly left and moved elsewhere or she’s simply healing from the beating we gave her.  The mayor was not present at his office, according to his seneschal, but he was throwing a lavish dinner that evening in our honor and we should all show up at 6.

With the mayor not seen on this visit, we had visions of doppelgangers and golems and the perfect opportunity to kill us all in a single stroke were we to appear at this previously unannounced “dinner”.   However, upon reflection, we decided perhaps we were living just a wee bit paranoid.  Avia headed over a mite early to secretly scout the grounds and the area, and she did see the mayor, and evidence of a party being set up so perhaps our paranoia was a bit overmuch.

So we struck a balance, dressing well but by no means weaponless.  And other than hearty greetings, repeated toasts, many congratulations, and much shaking of hands, nothing unusual happened at the dinner.  Well the mayor DID award us each 6000 gold pieces. Each.  6000.  Gold.   Pieces.

It took a moment to realize that while we were not yet filthy rich, none of us was exactly dirt poor any more either. I’ll need to do some training in the coming weeks, and for once I’ll have no trouble paying for it. We really have come quite a distance in just a few months.

Most of us, I remind myself.  Some of us, sadly, were unable to complete the journey.

Character: Nolin

Nolin’s journal entry

Wealday, Abadius 15

Olithar’s death still hangs over us. Over me.

I am not naive. This work that we do is dangerous and not without significant risk, and Olithar like the rest of us knew those risks and faced them willingly and without hesitation. In the past months we have seen many terrible sights, witnessed violence on a scale unheard of in modern times, and confronted an ugliness that would chill even the most hardened man. Though we never spoke of it directly, we were all aware of how close each of us has come, some of us over and over again, to giving our life for this cause, and that it was but a matter of time before misfortune caught up with us. And so it did.

Part of me understands Olithar’s wishes to not return, but part of me also wishes that it wasn’t so. Such is growing up, I suppose.

I am frustrated that Xanesha lives. We were close. We had her. But we lacked skill with ranged weapons, having relied too much on magic in the past to meet this need. As prepared as we were, the assault on the tower has revealed a critical gap in our capabilities, and it is one that must be filled.

One wonders how much higher a price we would have paid had we not taken the time to plan our rather unusual ascent up the clock tower. It is clear from Xanesha’s meager defenses that she had expected nothing more than a simple, direct assault from the interior stairs. By coming up the outside with magic to aid our ascent we were able to reach the scaffolding nearly unscathed, closing the distance so rapidly that they had no time to adjust to our tactics. The best they could muster were a few bricks that were left over from the feeble attempts to repair the structure, thrown at us as we climbed.

If our plan had a flaw, it was that it simply worked too well and allowed half of our party to reach the roof without adequate combat support. From what Rigel and Kane describe, however, that may not have mattered in the end, for Xanesha had a few tricks of her own and Olithar’s fate was sealed in the first few seconds of her appearance. The best we might have managed had we all been there would be to give her more targets to choose from, and that is a sobering thought.

Even unprepared and disadvantaged Xanesha proved a difficult and capable foe. Had we been forced to come up that scaffolding as she had intended we might be mourning more than just one of our friends. Our cleverness is cold comfort, however, as Olithar is dead while Xanesha lives. I am not one for revenge and settling scores, but…this situation does not sit well with me.

Joaqin says that feeling will pass. I hope so, because I cannot afford to have my judgement clouded.

The mayor has made us rich men (and women) and I have to admit that I am surprised, shocked even, at what he has done. Not just the money, or even giving us his word and then keeping it, but also the actions he has taken to protect his town, and the citizens whose names appeared on Xanesha’s list. This is not the Lord Mayor Blah Blah Horse’s Ass that I thought I knew, or maybe it’s that he’s far more complicated a man than I ever gave him credit for and that I only knew one facet of many. I don’t know. In the end, he is doing the right thing, and not just for himself.

I would never have guessed.

Character: Kanelbene

Kane’s Eulogy for Olithar

At the memorial service for Olithar at the temple of Sarenrae.

Near the conclusion of the service, Kane wearing the formal robes of an under-priest of Desna (colorful butterflies and all) walks slowly to the front of the room. Head bowed, he waits for the chuckles from the party to subside and whispering in general to stop.

In a soft voice

“I first met Olithar a couple months ago. Looking back, I can see the gentle touch of the Lady guiding me onto this path. For I was indeed lucky the day I met Olithar, he and his companions rescued me from being a sacrifice to the darkest of enemies. I did not see the Lady’s hand at this time, nor did I see the Light that guided Olithar to this meeting place, but I know now our paths were meant to cross. Olithar, like all big folk, was a mystery to me. He was a man of fiery passions. That was no more evident than on the fields of battle, always leading the charge, taking the fight to those that preyed on the weak and helpless. But, after battle and off the battlefield, Olithar was as gentle a soul as you would ever meet. He was taken into the Light before I could truly begin to understand him. He was a companion, a friend, and a mentor. Though we followed different paths to where we met, we parted company much to soon.”

Kane walks over to where urn containing Olithar’s ashes rest. Pausing, he bows his head in silent prayer. A continual flame appears in front of the urn. Turning back to the audience.

“I will always feel his loss, but am comforted that he is at peace in the Light.”

With that Kane steps down and returns to his place in the audience.

Character: Olithar

Olithar’s Journal Entry for January 1

== Wealday, Kuthona 18, 4707; Magnimar, Kyver’s Islet; Afternoon ==

Having followed up on the contact information for payments to “B7” from Aldrin Foxglove we have found ourselves in a lumber mill called “The Seven” on Kyver’s Islet in the south of Magnimar. We’ve overcome attacks from the evil masked workmen there only to find ourselves in custody of one of the chief justices for the city itself, Ironbriar.

Avia had detected an evil presence in the room where Ironbriar was found alone and cloaked with invisibility. He was no longer radiating an evil aura by then, but we did detect two spells had been cast upon him — an enchantment and an abjuration. The latter could have been the result of his hiding his alignment.

And while Ironbriar did attack us at first, when the enchantment spell was removed he calmed down a great deal and became informative and almost helpful.

He claimed he had been enchanted by an evil enchantress named Xanesha, and that it was she who was responsible for the series of ritual murders that had plagued Magnimar for these past months. He admitted that he had played some part in the grizzly killings, but only while under Xanesha’s control. He was angry with Xanesha and wished her killed, but knew his influence and power in Magnimar was compromised, and he wished to leave the city as quickly as could be arranged.

Avia was dubious of his most of his claims, and thought the two best courses of action were to either hand him over to the city officials, or execute him ourselves.

The problem with the first proposal was that Ironbriar was the head of the city’s judicial system, and it was unlikely that our word would be taken over his. And the second proposal assumed his guilt with only the circumstantial evidence we possessed.

And yet to me he seemed to be telling the truth, or as much of the truth as concerned us. I spoke long with him about his faith, and found that he was a follower of Norgorber, which would indicate he probably did have an evil aura when not masked by magic. Followers of Norgorber are split among various factions, each following some specific aspect of their evil god and mostly ignoring one another. It made little sense for a career politician, of which Ironbriar was certainly one, to work toward destroying the very fabric of society from which he derived his power.

Ironbriar promised that if we let him go he would take care of the cultists (both dead and alive) that remained in the mill, and leave the city within twelve hours — just long enough to take care of some personal matters and provide an official reason for his extended absence from Magnimar.

He said if we allowed him this, he would provide us with information about Xanesha that we could use to find and eliminate her. Furthermore once he was safe and established in a new location he would send a reward back to us, as well as check up on our progress with Xanesha.

We debated his offer long among ourselves, and finally agreed providing that Ironbriar allowed Sabin and Trask to accompany him until we received the promised information. To this he acquiesced, using the cover of hiring the two as body guards to explain their sudden and constant presence in his company.

Unknown to Ironbriar, Kane and Rigel provided support for Sabin and Trask by using their stealthy skills to follow Ironbriar, and to make sure there was no obvious attempts at treachery.

They left for Ironbriar’s house a short while ago, and we are about to leave the mill ourselves. We gave Ironbriar the name of the inn at which we had been staying, but we plan to move to different part of town today. We will keep one room at the old inn for future correspondences with Ironbriar.

== Oathday, Kuthona 19, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Midnight ==

Kane arrived at our new inn just after midnight with news that Ironbriar was leaving the city via one of the southern gates. Task and Sabin were still with him and Rigel was tailing them.

As we quickly walked to catch up (at a discrete distance) can told us that Ironbriar had immediately gone from the mill to his grand house in the swanky Alabaster District, where he proceeded to send letters to various associates about town. He had been cordial to his two guests, even inviting them to share in his dinner, and hid nothing obvious from them. In fact at one point he apparently offered both long term employment, which they both declined.

Rigel caused a bit of commotion by sneaking into the house and setting off an alarm of some kind, but if he was suspicious of our party, he did not show it.

Shortly after midnight he changed into traveling clothes and left for the south of the city.

We ran into Sabin and Trask on their way back from seeing Ironbriar leave the city on foot. At the gate he had told them what he knew of Xanesha.

She had set up her headquarters in the ruinous structure known as the Shadow Clock. This tower was built in the Shadow district of Magnimar, an unsavory part of the city that resided completely beneath the ancient ruins of the Irespan.

The Irespan is nothing short of a massive bridge, perhaps built by or for a race of giants, that stretched westward over the bay from Magnimar. Everything about it is massive, although now all that remains of it is its eastern terminus. And yet even this tiny fragment is so large that it dwarfs all other structures on this side of the continent, and it covers an entire district of what is by no means a small city.

The name of the Shadow District itself may have its origins by being in the shadow of the Irespan, but it now reflects the nature of its businesses and inhabitants.

The Shadow Clock is a tall tower that was built many years ago to house a clock, but it was never completed and it has fallen into neglected decay. It is considered structurally unsafe, and the city has closed it off from the public.

Ironbriar said that Xanesha lived there with five “misshapen” men to do her bidding, and that it was she that taught him the vile sihedron ritual used in the murders.

She had also sent Aldrin to Foxglove Manor to collect the evil fungus that grew there, knowing full well what it would do to him.

Ironbriar also told us that Aldrin’s payments to the sawmill were for hush money to keep hidden the fact that he had murdered his fiance, Iesha.

We returned to the inn and briefly discussed our plan of action. Although Ironbriar saw to it that his departure from the city would not draw any undue attention, at least for a while, it would be obvious to Xanesha that he was no longer under her thumb. We decided to wait a couple of weeks before making our move against her in the hopes that she will have once again relaxed her guard.

This would also give time for Avia, Sabin, Kane and Rigel to train.

Trask, Nolin and I plan to make a short trip out from the city after sunrise to see if we can find a trace of where Ironbriar has gone.

== Oathday, Kuthona 19, 4707; Yondabakari River Valley; Evening ==

We set out on horse back as soon as it was light, leaving Magnimar by the southern gate and following the likely route used by Ironbriar. Despite the overcast sky and chill air our trip was at first pleasant as we traveled next to the Yondabakari flowing within the banks of its wide valley.

Small farms and hamlets lay on either side of the river with their fallow fields and prickly orchards of bare trees. Inns also lined the road, and after a pleasant break for lunch in one such pub we continued on.

The sun slowly wheeled around behind us and cast long shadows on the road ahead. Inns ceased, farms came further and further apart, and the number of people we passed on the road dwindled to a few hearty souls before petering out altogether.

The next village was an hour or more ahead and grey sky darkening with the fading light as we debated whether to push on to the comforts of a night indoors or find a suitable camp site near the road.

The road had dipped into a boggy stretch of land and was just beginning to rise back up again when we came upon three large mounds of mud and clay.

A grotesque toad-like head rose up from behind one mound and stared at us with protruding eyes. As we approached to investigate three slimey green creatures lept up onto the mounds and waved spiked clubs threateningly at us.

Boggards!

As a child my guardians had told us stories of the evil frog-like men who haunted the swamp lands, capturing and eating unwary travelers. I had thought these tales told to keep restless youth from straying far from the farm, but here they were in the flesh (warts and all) menacing my friends and I.

No doubt they thought we were farmers on the road at dusk hurrying to our home and fields and ill prepared to meet any attack. They thought wrong and were quickly slain.

Alas, but we found the remains of several hapless travelers on whom the boggards had feasted earlier. Little remained but 20 pieces of gold and a few basic weapons.

We wound up pushing on to the village and reserved a nice set of rooms for the evening. We had missed the usual evening sitting in the dinning room, but after hearing about our victorious encounter with the boggards the inn keeper was happy to stoke the kitchen fire and prepare a delightful late supper for us.

== Fireday, Kuthona 20, 4707; Yondabakari River Valley; Evening ==

An altogether uneventful day. We continued along the undulating road as it passed through a land of low hills which fell away to the south into a wide expanse of marsh.

By chance this evening we encountered a small caravan from Wartle heading towards Magnimar and we all agreed to share camp. They had seen nobody on the road matching Ironbriar’s description, which confirmed our suspicion that while he may have set out as a lowly traveler on foot, Ironbriar was a man of too many resources to remain so for long.

Our companions are a lively group, and we are all gathered about a small but bright peat fire which is keeping the fog from the swamplands at bay. While in stark contrast to the night before, our evening has proven to be no less accommodating.

== Starday, Kuthona 21, 4707; Yondabakari River Valley; Evening ==

A soft but prolonged drizzle started late in the night and we broke our sodden camp just before dawn. Being lightly burdened we left caravan behind as kept a brisk pace, and rode long until after dusk. We are but a few hours from Magnimar, but there is no urgent need for our return and the horses have earned a rest in a dry tall with hay and fresh water.

To be honest I too am glad to have a place to sleep indoors out of the persistent cold mist that followed us all day.

== Sunday, Kuthona 22, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

We returned to Magnimar by mid day and Nolin has has decided that he too should hone his skills and sharpen his abilities before our encounter with Xanesha, leaving Trask and I to fend for ourselves.

We decided to reconnoiter the area about the Shadow Clock tomorrow.

== Moonday, Kuthona 23, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

Like virtually all residents of Magnimar, I have seen the Irespan, and have even approached the top as close as city officials allow the public. But I have never before been at the feet of this cyclopean structure, and I must admit that it takes some getting used to. I walked about looking up and gaping like a yocal from the sticks who has wandered into a city for the first time.

The locals who we passed were completely oblivious to the thing under which they spent their lives. We followed their example and plunged deeper in the the Shadow District with eyes level. We kept a short distance apart, with me in the lead, but still close enough to rush to one another’s aid if needed.

The day was already dim with cloud cover, and it was like walking into twilight as we passed under the shadow of the bridge and made our way to the massive support near which the Shadow Clock had been built.

Had it been completed the Clock could have been a local wonder to lift the district up and above the unsavory reputation it now held. Now, however, it simply served to reinforce the feeling of sinister doings, secrets, and decay and ruin that permeated the area.

With a square base about sixty feet on a side the tower lumbers up on itself some one hundred and eighty feet, gently narrowing with its rise until it is capped by an ornate belfry. A large clock face frozen at three o’clock glares down upon passerby and the figure of an angel perches atop it all.

But it is all a ruin. The mortar between the stone and brick crumbles, the wood is gray and warped with age, and the windows gape out with no glazing. In some places metal framework pokes out from the ruptured skin of the building, and near the top on one side a teetering mass of scaffolding, itself now derelict, fights a losing battle to keep the structure from toppling down upon the business and residences that surround it.

We spent some time walking about the Clock, taking side streets and alleys so as not to be obvious in our intent, but saw nobody approach the tower, nor indeed pay any more attention to it than they did the bridge above.

Trask and I returned to the inn where we compared notes and drew a few diagrams and maps. We had seen no other entrance at ground level than the heavy doors which had been chained and locked by city officials, but it seemed like that was as good an approach as any.

The rest of the day began to weigh heavily on me and so I found father Tyrion at the Temple of Sarenrae and volunteered to help out with the local outreach programs that aided the less fortunate citizens of the city.

== Fireday, Kuthona 27, 4707; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

Sabin and Kane have completed their training.

== Wealday, Abadius 1, 4708; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Morning ==

It is New Year’s Day! There was a midnight ceremony at the Temple of Sarenrae in which I participated, just as last year. I cannot help but to reflect back upon the old year and all the changes it brought.

== Fireday, Abadius 3, 4708; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

Avia returned to the inn looking confident and ready to resume the hunt for Xanesha. Rigel also returned from training, but is often the case with her we did not notice her arrival so much as we simply became aware that she was once again with us.

When we returned to our old inn for our daily check of message from Ironbriar we found a cloaked man waiting for us in the common room. Without exchanging any names or details we informed him that we were following the advice of our common friend and being cautious about tying up a certain “loose end.” We told him we ought to have more to report in two weeks time.

He stated that the parcel beneath the table was for us, and got up and walked out.

After the usual checking for traps and magical devices we took the box up to our room and opened it. Within were seven small bars of gold — each worth five hundred gold pieces.

This was more awkward for some of us than others, but I know that what is not immediately spent defeating Xanesha from my share — for I view the gold as payment in advance for services to be rendered — will go toward the local charities the Temple of Sarenrae supports.

== Sunday, Abadius 5, 4708; Magnimar, The Copper Griffin; Evening ==

There was another ritualized murder last night. While rumor of the killing swept through the city in the usual way, we sought out our contacts in the town guars to glean additional information.

The more than two weeks since the previous killing was the longest interval between any two killings since they began — typically there was a murder every few days. We could not help but connect this to our activities at Aldrin’s townhouse some two weeks earlier and Ironbriar’s departure from the city.

We found Nolin, and although he had a week of training left he agreed that we could not delay our investigations while the murder spree continued.

== Moonday, Abadius 6, 4708; Magnimar, Shadow District; Dawn ==

Well before dawn we made our way to the Shadow District and approached the doors enmasse. Our plan was to simply walk up to the doors, disarm any traps, unlock any locks, and then move inside as if we were authorized to do so. It seemed likely that any attempt at a covert operation in this shady district would generate more notice (and possible interference) than a direct approach.

Our plan worked and soon we were inside. But the interior of the clock, while perhaps fascinating to an architect or builder, sadly dissapointed us.

From within the Shadow Clock looked more decrepit and tumble down than even its ruinous appearance from the outside indicated. It was a single, massive chamber towering up into the darkness above with no floors or partitions beyond the handful of ramshackle walls leaning against one another along the eastern wall.

Windows were cut into the tower higher up, but the pre-dawn sky still looked inky black from within. We brought out our magical torches and looked about the place in dismay.

The floor was made from stone, and showed no signs of any secret trap doors leading down. A rickety stair led up and up, connecting with the outer walls some fifteen feet up and following them around and around as it spiraled up to the top, which skulked in darkness.

A few piles of rubbish littered the floor here and there, and through the gaping doorways in the eastern interior walls we could see that the ceiling for the rooms had collapsed and they were now open above the the main chamber.

We noticed a large number of foot prints in the dust on the floor leading up the stairs, and checked the stairway very carefully only to find that it was as unstable and unsafe as appearance made it appear.

One door to an interior chamber in the northeast corner was intact and closed, and as I made my way towards it to see what lay within, a huge creature stood up from what I had thought was a pile of refuse and attacked. It looked like someone had stitched together various parts from animals, humans and other creatures into a single nightmarish form. It wielded a scythe with unexpected skill and from a belt around its middle hung an assortment of shrunken heads.

It proved resistant to fire and damage our normal weapons, but Avia switched to using the adamantine sword and was dealing the thing deathly damage. After a fierce battle Sabin finished it off by planting his axe in its face.

[241] +1 scythe (Nolin)
[242] cloak of Elvenkind (Avia)

Beyond the door was yet another room with a collapsed ceiling and nothing more.

Trask and Sabin volunteered to clamber up the rickety stairs to see what was at the top of the tower, and as they began their ascent the rest of us continued to search the base of the tower, uncovering a sack with coins and a few other valuable looking oddments.

125 gold pieces
309 silver pieces
a tarnished silver ring with “To AV, with love” inscribed on it (not magical)
an ornate silver mirror

We heard a loud creaking sound as the stairs complained of their load and threatened to come down. Trask and Sabin came down, and Sabin, who could cast Feather Fall and save himself in the event of an emergency, climbed up alone.

Three times around Sabin ascended the stairs and came to the level where a window was set into each of the four walls. By now the sky was pale, and we could watch his progress in the wan light.

Sabin then paused, as if listening to something above, and all of a sudden there was an incredible cacophony of clanging and clanking as one of the massive tower bells came crashing down. It smashed through the stairs where Sabin was standing and tumbled to the ground, crashing into Trask before coming to rest on its side.

Sabin drifted slowly to the ground and said he had heard someone sawing through the ropes that held the bell just before it came down. We healed him and Trask and were debating our next course of action (a Fireball shot up to the top was momentarily a popular idea) when there came a great banging at the doors.

The entire west end of Magnimar had no doubt heard the frightful noise of the bell, and the City Guard had showed up to investigate.

The chief constable was highly suspicious of our presence at the tower, but we managed to deflect his concerns toward the corpse of the scarecrow monster we had slain. He asked the crowd that had now gathered around the doors if they had seen anything like this in the area before, and one man said he had seen it coming in and out from the tower, and another reported that things could be seen flying in and out from the top of the Clock.

The constable inspected the bell and commented on how it looked like the ropes had been partially cut through some time ago, and then the rest of the way quite recently.

We told him that we wanted to climb the tower to catch whoever it was that dropped the bell on us (and who was no doubt responsible for the strange monster), to which he acquiesced. He set up a watch about the tower to keep and eye on our progress and to see if anything flew in or out while we were scaling the Clock.

We are currently discussing how best to climb up now that the stairs are impassable, and have decided upon some combination of Spider Climb and ropes.

The sun is just now peeping over the horizon although it is still dark beneath the Irespan, and it is time for me to pray. We shall have full need of the spells Sarenrae can grant me this day.

shadowclockA

Character: Trask

The Journal of Trask Feltherup

Wealday, 18 Kuthona

As we wrestled with the question of what to do with Ironbrier, we reviewed what we knew. He claimed to have been charmed by Xaneesha into doing her will. He claimed that he would not have done it, otherwise. He claimed he would reward us for letting him go. He claimed to be a member of — indeed, a priest of — the same religion as Xaneesha, but a different faction. His god was known as Norgurbur, the Reaper of Reputation. He did in fact carry a holy symbol consistent with that religion, but his faction, one of four, was one more interested in the more secular issues of reputation and power rather than the masks and the killings. He seemed more angry about being used than about the deaths, but we shouldn’t hope for too much regret over the deaths, given his apparent alignment and spiritual background.

Avia was adamant that he should either be turned over to the town for justice, or killed summarily. Trouble was it would come down to the word of a band of people recently arrived from out of town and strangely familiar with the murders, against that of a high justice of the city. We’d likely not win that battle of accusations. And killing him ourselves was regarded not an option by more than one member of the party. I find myself among that group. Perhaps it was his rank, perhaps it was that he appeared to have been used, but it seemed his freedom would actually get us closer to the greater evil. It is dismaying to realize he will not see justice for the deeds he’s done, but sometimes the forces of good must choose between the lesser of two evils, not simply between good and evil.

And so it was in this case. It was by no means unanimous, but fortunately those in the minority did not choose to argue with their weapons. It is the single most divisive issue I’ve ever seen this group wrestle with.

His freedom was tempered, of course. Sabin and I would become his “aides” for 12 hours while he “put his affairs in order”. He agreed to take care of the, uh, disrepair at the mill, and make some arrangements so that much of his wealth and belongings could follow him (or meet him) where he was going. We did not ask where he was going for we knew he would not tell.

We went with him back to his residence, and to their credit his staff did not spend any time asking him why he’d acquired two new assistants, especially with one being a half-orc. We were briefly mentioned as “bodyguards” and nothing more was said. In this role, we had free rein to follow him, and gave him a modicum of privacy while he wrote numerous letters. He even allowed me to inspect one and while it could have been written in some sort of cipher I suppose, it seemed to be what he said it would be: a letter directing the disposition of some of his wealth and belongings.

Since we were still not entirely trusting of him, Kane and Rigel were to follow us discreetly and watch over us, to make sure we ourselves were not charmed by him into doing something untoward. So we were partially but not entirely surprised when we heard what sounded like a large explosion from his bedroom shortly after dinner. We three rushed to the room but found nothing but a tripped ward and an open window. He chalked it up to his enemies already having sniffed out his weakening power, but Sabin and I looked at each other and guessed Rigel had been too tempted by the sparkly and shiny things in his house. (We discovered later that we were spot on.)

Later that evening, a messenger returned with a box of platinum and gear. Ironbrier made a non-magical offer for us to join him, but both Sabin and I declined. There was a bit of hesitancy in Sabin’s response which made me look at him closely, but no, in the end nobody joined him. He announced things were in order and we’d leave in about two hours. He dressed in rather plain travelling clothes. He seemed to have a travelling bag that could hold much more than one might think. (I’d heard of bags like that but never seen one. Seems quite handy.)

We left for the town gates just before 1am. We presumed that one or both of our tails, Kane or Rigel, would notify the rest of the party. Although they didn’t get there before we said our final goodbyes, they were there within minutes of them.

Before he left, he kept his word and told Sabin and I of Xaneesha. She has taken up residence at the shadow clock. Beautiful but very persuasive; since she was able to charm him I suspect the persuasive aspect has significant magical components to it. He said she is the personal agent of the dark forces, and that she has 5 henchman we need to watch for. The clock tower is in the Underdark, and the front door is guarded.

Additionally, he said that Aldrin was paying 200 gp per week in hush money. He had killed his wife and didn’t want anybody finding out. 200 gp per week was draining him pretty fast though; had he not fallen victim to the fungus in his manor, he may have had other problems soon.

Fungus, by the way, is what Xaneesha was most interested in. Aldrin was back at the manor because she had directed him to bring samples to her. Those samples may well have been what led him to the fate he suffered.

After relaying all of this to the rest of our party, we returned to the inn for a good night’s sleep. Oh, and Sabin and I each earned 1 gp for our short stint as bodyguards. Not bad pay; maybe I should look into this line of work.

hah.

Toilday, 19 Kuthona

After discussing it among ourselves, we thought it wise for some of us to get some additional training before confronting Xaneesha. Some people only needed a week or so for their training, while a couple needed two. I myself was already “up to snuff”. Before undertaking this, we (Nolin, Olithar, and myself) decided to try to see if we could trail where Ironbrier went. Near as we can tell, his trail got lost on the road pretty quickly after leaving town. While none of us are expert trackers, we suspect magic still may have been the primary means of his transportation. After all, we may not have been the only ones tracking him.

Late in the day, we did encounter some sort of frog men that Nolin insisted were hazards to travellers because they were so close to the road. They seemed to be building, or at least hanging out near, three mounds of mud, and they did brandish weapons at us. But it was hard to take them seriously with their frog-like appearance. At Nolin’s insistence we did away with three of them and while I escaped unscathed, they did mark up Olithar and Nolin some. And we did find, after slaying them, they actually did have some weapons that were not theirs, about 20 gold pieces, and the remains of some people, so I guess they really did waylay travellers. Ya just can’t tell by looking, I guess. I didn’t look close enough to see if the travellers’ bodies had simply rotted or been eaten. Really didn’t need to know that much.

Knowing that the others were busily training anyway, we made a leisurely trip out of it, travelling a few days out and back. Although we did meet several other travellers, none of them had seen a man matching the description of Ironbrier. Neither did we encounter any more wildlife that needed to be put down. We returned to Magnimar midday on Sunday.

Sunday, 22 Kuthona

Our multi-day journey was easily summarized to the remainder of the party, and Nolin took it upon himself to do some training too. Olithar and I will go scout out the clock tower tomorrow while Nolin starts training and the others finish.

Monday, 23 Kuthona

The clock tower looks a bit intimidating, even in daylight. We tried not to stand out so much here in the Underdark, but I imagine we still looked a bit out of place. Although the front door seems secure, the tower looks like it may be in disrepair. That alone probably keeps a lot of the locals away, but a quick tug on the front door also indicated it was locked. Seven years ago, one of them tells us, the city declared it dangerous and took effort to close it off.

The base was about 60 feet on a side, but it towers up almost 200 feet, maybe about 180. It narrows some as it rises, so it’s not 60 feet square all the way up. The belfry still shows some elegance after all these years, and had it not fallen into disrepair would likely be a tourist attraction in its own right. In its current condition — mortar is crumbling, and bricks are falling out of it — it’s more of a distraction than an attraction. Near the top there’s still a scaffolding of some sort hanging precariously on the side of the building.

I hope the stairs inside are in better shape than the outside suggests, or thoroughly examining this properly will require more skill or magic than may be present in our group. I wonder if there are rooms underground? Such a building must require a firm foundation.

Fireday, 3 Abadius

The days have passed leisurely for myself and Olithar, as others complete their training. Well, actually, Olithar has been off hanging around his temple, I guess, but I’m content to spend the days resting mostly and occasionally getting out and walking around just to keep in shape.

We had had no messenger come by from Ironbrier, and we were beginning to believe perhaps the reward portion of his speech had indeed been fluffery, but lo, today a cloaked messenger arrived. Meeting him was like meeting with a state spy; we did not mention Ironbrier’s name out loud, but instead referred to “our friend” and “those incidents”. In this manner we communicated to the messenger that we had not yet attacked Xaneesha or the clock tower, but intended to within a few days. He might return in, say, one or two weeks if he wished additional news. He gave no indication if he would. We mentioned to him we had moved to a new inn; he nodded.

He did say there was a parcel at our feet under the table, and that it was for us. He then abruptly left. We casually removed it to our room and after Rigel checked it for traps and such, opened it to discover seven gold bars, each worth 500 gp. Normally we take out a share of what we recover or are paid for “group expenses” but agreed that given the form this particular recompense had taken, we wouldn’t try to split up 7 bars 8 ways.

I’m good with that.

Sunday, 5 Abadius

The murders are still happening, and Nolin, the only one still training, has agreed we can’t sit idle while more people are losing their lives. Tomorrow, in the early dark of morn, we will go to the tower.

Moonday, 6 Abadius

Our thinking about investigating before the sun rises is two-fold. One is that what we are about to do — break into an area closed off by the city — is something we’d like to be a little bit surreptitious about. We might be in and out in an hour, and if we can do that while it’s dark, even the twilight of a rising sun, all the better. Two is that if we find these forces seem to benefit from darkness, an increasing light works in our favor.

We really didn’t know what to expect, other than Xaneesha and five misshapen henchmen defending their turf.

We started by picking the lock on the front door; practically child’s play for Rigel these days. Carefully entering the tower, we could see in the dim light that the outside may well be worse off than the inside. We used our continual light rocks to see better, but they didn’t make the contents really look any better.

Debris was scattered around. Fallen framing and timbers were in each of six small rooms that started to the right of the door, as we entered, and ran counterclockwise to the middle of the wall opposite us. To the left was a staircase that looked like it had seen better days. It led up into the clock tower, winding around and around the outside wall as it rose.

Some footprints were evident on the staircase that indicated it still seen relatively recent use, so that offered some meager evidence that Ironbrier had not lied about this building being used.

We were a bit startled, but not really very surprise, when one pile of debris stood up as we were inspecting the damaged rooms, and approached Olithar. It had bits of people, animals, and debris integrated into a body-like shap, and a selection of shrunken heads dangling from its belt.

This must be one of the misshapen ones. And when it smacked Olithar, it smacked him HARD. And that was just the beginning.

First, it was huge; easily as big as any three of us. Second, much to my and Olithar’s dismay, flame seemed to have no effect on it. Olithar’s spiritual weapon passed right through it without damage. Kane tried channelling positive energy to it; no effect. Magic missile did seem to do damage to it, at least. Avia finally switched to an adamantine weapon she has and that seemed to do real damage at last.

We did dispatch it, but it took great effort and all but I were signficantly injured. Our clerics healed us, but this did not bode well if we encountered the other four henchman at the same time.

On the corpse of this abomination we found a +1 scythe and a cloak of elvenkind, that Avia accepted. Searching carefully through the debris also discovered about 125 gp, 309 sp, a tarnished silver ring with the inscription “TO AV WITH LOVE” and a silver mirror. The mirror and the ring might have some intrinsic value, but nothing found was magic.

We found nothing else of interest on this floor, in the main hall or in any of the rooms. That left nowhere but up. Sabin and I tried to go up but it was clear the wood would not likely support the two of us standing too close together.

Since Sabin could cast featherfall on himself if need be, and I’d, at best, have to read it from a scroll, he went up alone. He’d gone three times around and reached the first set of windows when he heard a noise from above. A sawing noise. With no further warning, a huge copper bell fell from the heights. It took out the section of stairs Sabin was on, and hurt him badly just from the blow. He fell, but was able to feather himself down.

Meanwhile, I had the good fortune to be in the target area, and when the bell came crashing down, careening off what structure was left, fate dictated that it should land on me. I took even more damage than Sabin, and had to be pried out from under the bell and healed almost immediately.

And so much for any degree of secrecy in this operation. Outside, it was considerably lighter but now people were gathering about the tower, gossiping about the loud noise. We quickly decided to spin this as best we could, because sure as the sun rises every morning, when we exited the tower there were a pair of constables there. We brought out the body of the creature we’d killed and loudly announced there was some foul presence in that tower.

As the constables (and crowd) looked over the misshapen corpse, you could almost feel the tide swing in our favor. We told a tale of having seen it and it ran into the tower. Knowing it would be harmful to the town and wondering idly if it might be responsible for the killings, we chased it in and killed it, as any capable townsperson would. The crowd was murmuring and although the constables were still mildly suspicious, they couldn’t deny that the body in front of them was not a citizen of the town.

We announced were going to go back in and see if there was more, and did they want to come? Nooooo, the constables were willing to let us go in but they would keep the peace out here. Already they were shooing people back (“nothing to see here, just a rotting building, move along”) One did comment, after looking at the bell, that the rope appeared to have been cut. Gasp, really? One of the onlookers commented that sometimes, people who live here could see something or some things flying in and out of the tower. (That’s distressing, that maybe we get up to the top and it just flies away. Not sure we can do much about that.)

Anyway, I need to wrap this up and rejoin the group. We are strategizing about what to do next. I’m hearing ropes, and I’m hearing Spider Climb and I’m hearing “long way to fall”. Sigh. I need to learn that featherfall thing.

Character: Trask

The Journal of Trask Feltherup

17 Kuthona

We thought we had a dilemma. We thought we had a tough decision. We thought we faced great risk should we choose unwisely. And we had no idea that within a day, we’d face a decision that would make this one look as simple as deciding whether to kill a charging goblin or not.

But I get ahead of myself.

The three bodies of the creatures that we’d vaguely identified as something of legend that ought not exist would begin to rot if we simply left them here. In addition, we had no idea if they had regenerative abilities, or would be even more fearsome if raised from the dead. We did not know why they had been here, nor did we know what their absence would mean to whomever knew they were here. And lastly, we had no idea what the town guard would make of this. Would we be viewed as heroes for ridding the city of this scourge, blamed for their appearing in the first place, or simply noted by the guard as a health threat. “We’ll have the usual corpse detail remove them by the end of the day; please make sure they are all the way out to the street, as there will be an extra charge if our men need to walk to the rear of the house to retrieve them.”

In the end, we decided we had to tell the town guard, and seeing what they made of it might tell us more of how they were handling the ongoing murder spree. So Nolin went to the nearest guard station (which happened to be the huge tall one that overlooked most of the city) and returned with a constable. There was a brief investigation — “Did they have weapons? Why did you feel threatened? What are YOU doing here?”

Finally, however, we seemed to win him over and he admitted they were a little unusual looking. We conjectured on whether they were connected with the murders here, and mentioned we’d dealt with some similar murders in Sandpoint. He looked a little interested and we talked a bit about our adventures. Conversationally, he mentioned that the murders here had been going on long before we dealt with them in Sandpoint; cases like this were going back several months. Cases like this? Er, just odd deaths, he meant, and looked as if he’d said too much. They did appear to be strong creatures, he admitted, and asked if we knew why they were here. Also — where was the real owner? We truthfully responded that nobody had seen the true owner in over a month, and that’s what had brought us here (pointedly holding up the key that allowed us to enter without incident.)

Nodding, he concluded his investigation by saying he’d send somebody around to pick up the bodies discreetly; no point in the neighborhood being upset by this. We agreed to leave the bodies in the garden and access to the garden unlocked so that it could be dealt with via the alley.

“One last thing,” he said as we moved to the door. “Where are you staying?”

When we replied we were staying at the inn near Nolin’s parents, he nodded and suggested we should not leave town anytime soon. We agreed, as we pointed out to him we still had a mystery on our hands and wouldn’t be leaving until we had a hand on that.

That left us with our first somewhat positive experience with the law in this town. I think we’d found one person who was still suspicious of us, but at least mildly impressed with what we’d done and how we’d done it.

Kane and Rigel thought they might have some contacts/references in town that could provide more information about the murders and where we might find the sawmill where the payments apparently took place. They took the remainder of the day to go to the Underbridge district and ask about; they returned about 50gp lighter but with little new information. That seemed a bit spendy to me, but both Kane and Rigel assured me (and us) that it was spent buying drinks and purchasing good humor during their “research”. They were confident that if anyone had knowledge of the murders or the sawmill they would contact us. Although they claimed nobody had followed them back, that still didn’t sound terribly safe to me because I rather suspected “contact” might be made with a sharp instrument rather than a brief note. Myself, I slept a little uneasily that night.

Wealday, 18 Kuthona

At least some of the murders in Sandpoint occurred at a sawmill. These payments we were tracing also happened at a sawmill. Coincidence? maybe. In any case, one of the things Kand and Rigel had learned yesterday was that a large number of sawmill were based on the island to the south of the city, and yes, one of them might happen to be named “The 7”. So after a good breakfast, we started off through town. Rigel and Kane thought it possible we might find an interested party following us, due to the previous day’s inquiries, and said they’d drop back a bit to see if we were being followed. As luck would have it, it appears we were. I didn’t learn of this until afterward, but Kane apparently cornered the guy near a shop and said, “Tell your bosses thanks for the escort.” The guy apparently looked startled and said, “Beg your pardon?” but quickly excused himself and disappeared again into the crowd. Nobody else seemed to be following us. Or else they were better at it.

After an hour or so of leisurely walking, we did reach the island, which had a bridge on both the north and south sides to connect it to, respectively, the main city and an apparent burg that contained some of the more, er, free-thinking members of the city. I think I heard somebody say the island was named Kiver’s Islet. This island did seem to cater towards wood and lumber. There were a large number of sawmills, as well as woodworking shops, ship construction, and ship repair.

And a sawmill named The 7.

The building appeared to be four stories tall, although there also appeared to be a basement at water level only accessible from the outside. What appeared to be the business entrance was at ground level, with three more stories above it. The group considered briefly how to approach it, but I said, “It’s a business, right? There must be somebody inside.” And indeed we did hear the sound of boards being sawed and lumber being cut. “Well, we are looking for business with this mill, friends. I suggest we go on in and ask. It’s the middle of the week, in the middle of the day, after all!” And before anybody could stop me, I strode onto the porch overlooking the river and approached the double doors that led to the entrance.

“Hello?” I asked, and knocked. “Anybody here?” With no response, I threw open the doors and strode in, the rest of the party hesitantly following.

But the room was empty. There was plenty of machinery around, and tools scattered about, but nobody minding the front door. Odd. Avia detected twelve distinct evil presences, all above us in some fashion. Up we go, then, to the second floor.

There, we were more successful. Although the stairwell seemed to be in a small room with a door, the door was ajar and we saw four men working, who looked up when we entered. This room had holes in the ceiling; evidently work passed vertically between this and the upper level via a system of pulleys and ropes. Noise from above was evident through the holes in the ceilings. I adopted my previous stance, stepping forward confidently and remarking, “Glad to meet you. I’m Perot Threshmore and I’m here regarding an account of one of your customers. Aldrin Foxglove has fallen behind in his payments and wishes to bring his account up to date. Are you the foreman?”

The man seemed calm yet a little surprised. “The foreman’s not here,” he said. “C’mon in, though. Nice to meet you. We can get him.” All the men stopped working as he spoke and looked at us. Avia silently signalled that they were all detecting as evil.

“Foreman’s not here? Are you a supervisor? I want to make sure we get this settled but I’m not sure who the right person to talk to would be. Do you have an accountant, or somebody who handles the money for you?” I asked, basically stalling to give everyone a chance to make it up the stairs and for Avia to refine her evil assessment.

“Foreman’s upstairs. We should go upstairs.” The men had moved slightly but deliberately while we were talking, but now I made no attempt to move to the stairs. “It’s a sizable amount of money; no offense but I want to make sure I’m talking to the right person. Is it the foreman or the accountant who is upstairs?” One impatiently reached down into a pile of lumber and pulled out a war razor hidden there. The others quickly did the same, and the battle was on. One nicked me a bit, as I’d basically given him a free attack owing to my method of entering the room with a purposeful stride and a bit of chatter. I quickly extended my claws and nicked him back but it startled him a lot less than I thought it might. Rigel darted in and out like a hummingbird, but a hummingbird with a stinger. She ended up laying out two of them, Olithar a third, and I the last. We stablilized their wounds, tied them up, and left them lying unconscious in a corner of the room not visible from the stairs.

Avia checked again, and said she detected evil above us, something like eight individual presences. That’s what we would have guessed, from the math, but it was good to have it confirmed. The weapons they’d used seemed quite well made, but we set them aside for now. Rigel snooped around the room looking for, well, anything else but found nothing.

We asked her to carefully sneak up the stairs and scout a bit for us. She reported that there were two doors upstairs, with noise behind one. On the top floor, there seemed to be a mostly open area in which there were two people and some closed doors behind them.

Concentrating, Avia reported the strongest evil presence was on the 4th floor. Since the third floor might represent reinforcements, we grabbed a board and some rope and rigged a bar across the door with noise behind it. Without nails or spikes it wouldn’t lock anybody in the room, but it would slow them down. And we continued upstairs.

I again used my insistent self-introduction on the two men we found up there. As Rigel had noted, there appeared to be two doors behind them; the room had some workbenches and they seemed to be working on planes. The room was full of sawdust, sometimes to a foot deep it appeared.

My chatter again allowed everyone to make it up the stairs while one of the men calmly told me to stop, and said I wasn’t allowed up here. It was too dangerous. I should go back downstairs. Avia took up a conveniently flanking position on one of the men as I again asked about the foreman. Or the accountant, whichever could best help me with my question. Meanwhile, Rigel started quietly searching the nearest workbench but almost lost her cookies. Noticing her reaction, several other party members moved closer and also became alarmed.

The workbench appeared to have been used for dissection. Recently. As in, blood still fresh.

But about this same time, the man I wasn’t speaking to pulled out a mask, put it on his face, and repeated that I should leave. “You might get hurt,” he said ominously behind a mask that appeared to be made of skin and body parts and featured a bulbous eye. “Man with a mask!” I yelled as the man opposite me also put on a similarly visceral mask. By this time, everyone was in the room and taking up battle positions.

The men reached down into the deep sawdust and pulled up more war razors hidden there.

Avia, sensing the strongest evil was not these two, quickly moved opposite the door behind which it seemed to be. And noted, much to her frustration, that it had suddenly disappeared.

Meanwhile, Sabin was told to FLEE! by the man I’d been talking to, and with a look of purpose on his face, Sabin ran to the stairs. I attempted to grapple the man and rip the mask off his face, but failed. Rigel, that sneaky damsel, again started darting among the attackers, wounding almost at will. Avia found her frustration to be an excellent focus for her sword, and before anybody else could lay an edge to them, the men were both down.

Olithar healed our wounded and prepared to stabilize our enemies so we might question them. Before he could do so, though, Sabin returned with a very angry look in his face, strode over to the prone figure of the man who had told him to flee, and with a single slice, separated his head from his body. “His condition is stable NOW,” he growled. We were stunned, but, well, that’s Sabin. He doesn’t take kindly to be ordered about.

Avia still wanted to get into the room the evil had escaped from and was dissuaded from simply breaking down the door. Rigel searched the locked door for traps — and found one. She disarmed the poison trap she found, and after a couple of tries unlocked the lock as well.

The room appeared on the one hand to be an office, or maybe a personal room .. but the walls in this place were covered with human faces stretched over forms, looking down into the room. If this was somebody’s office or bedroom, they were one twisted puppy. There appeared to be a trapdoor in the ceiling.

There was a foot locker, and in a flash Rigel had opened it. Inside we found a number of interesting items, ranging from fairly mundane items such as sea charts, etchings, and pamphlets (about a forgotten alchemical school of magic) to more interesting items like a spellbook and another gruesome mask.

[234] painting of a city carved out of a huge ice formation
[235] journal + ledger
[236] a spellbook whose cover bore the drawing of two entwined snakes, one red, one green
[237] an old filigree tome, “Fairy tales of the Eldest”
[238] sea charts
[239] mask – single long strip of dried flesh stretched into a spiral. fills your mind with images of murder and makes you more sensitive to the exact spot(s)
to murder someone, +1 profane damage with a slashing weapon against
living creatures, +2 to perception checks against creatures not immune
to fear, -1 CH, can cast confusion twice per day

Sabin cast detect magic to see if any of these things were magic and had a most curious result. Yes, the spellbook was magic. Yes, the mask was magic. But he also detected an area right near the door that seemed to radiate magic. A blank, magical space in the room. How odd. Sabin issued a swift kick in that spot and was rewarded with a muffled “oof” from the space. And then a voice. “Oh my goodness, thank you so much for rescuing me! Please don’t kick me again! You will undoubtedly receive a rich reward!” The voice identified itself as Justice Ironbrier, one of the thirteen Justices of the city. He related how he’d been tied up, made invisible, and left in the room but had managed to loosen himself. When he heard the noise outside, he didn’t know if it was friend or foe and so had waited silently. But now …

Avia was very suspicious. She’d sensed evil and it had gone away, yet here was this person, invisible, hiding in the room. “Oh wait,” said Ironbrier, “if I strike you it will end the invisible spell, right?” And he reached out and lightly tapped Sabin and suddenly there he was. He did have some rope with him as though he’d been tied, and still had loose bonds on him. Avia tried to read him but did not detect any evil.

He’d been investigating the murders, it seems, and had gotten too close for comfort. He’d been captured and hidden away here. “Who captured you?” we asked.

“It was a tall, bulky, muscled man in a brown cloak. Looked something like a half orc, perhaps. I’ve only been here an hour. He was here when you came, but he escaped through that trapdoor.”

After checking for traps, Rigel went up to check out the trapdoor. It led to what appeared to be a roost. Three ravens were in a cage, as well as a quill, some ink, and some paper in a cubby nearby. There was no roof, and a clear view was available for 360 degrees. If someone had escaped this way, they’d flown away somehow.

Kane and Nolin had kept watch over the prisoner, and Nolin quietly confirmed that this did indeed look like one of the thirteen justices, both in face and in dress. Olithar attempted to sense motive on Ironbrier, but he seemed to be telling the truth.

As Rigel and the others came down through the trapdoor, there was a call from outside the room. “Trouble.”

We exited to see the last of nine men entering the room from the stairway. Each was wearing a grotesque mask, and as our party exited the room, Ironbrier being kept firmly within sword’s length of Avia, we may have appeared slightly overmatched.

Then Ironbrier said something strange. He said, looking out at the men, “None of them should leave alive.” And the battle was on. Had he spoken to the men, or to us? At that point, it didn’t matter.

Olithar cast prayer to help us, and I jumped to the front of the group and color sprayed the men. Two of them fell unconscious, but three others were unfortunately unaffected. Sabin and Nolin quickly took two of them down before another ominous, unusual thing happened.

Ironbrier, during the heat of battle, turned to Avia (who had not budged from Ironbrier’s side, convinced he was really evil) and suggested he was impressed by how she carried and conducted herself, and that after this was over, there was an opening on his staff for her. It was, Avia realized, more than a suggestion. He’d attempted to charm her. She drew her sword to his throat and told him if he tried anything like that again she would slit his throat. He paled and apologized, saying he meant no harm.

Meanwhile, around this little drama the battle continued. Nolin took out another one, and Rigel came in from behind another to take him out. Nolin and I each received some minor injuries before, inexplicably, Ironbrier started to cast a spell.

Avia is not unskilled in the ways of magic herself, and from the gestures and mouthings, recognized it as the start of a curse aimed at her. She immediately sliced him well and good with her sword, and Olither moved in to support her. I managed to take out two more of the men with some well-aimed magic missiles, and Rigel found the vital spot of one of the unconscious men, leaving only one standing and one prone.

The one still standing ran off. Sabin tried to chase him, but was unable to catch him. Meanwhile, the battle between Avia and Ironbrier raged. Ironbrier found another war razor in the sawdust and smoothly picked it up. Kane started throwing curses at Ironbrier, and I magic missiled him. While Rigel dispatched the other unconscious man, Avia and Olithar laid Ironbrier low.

Olithar stabilized the near-dead men while we decided what to do. We took away all their masks and stripped Ironbrier. The latter was manacled using Rigel’s master manacles as we discussed what to do next.

His confiscated belongings:

war razor
[240] wand [12] of cure moderate wounds
mithril shirt

We checked the spellbook and it contained all the cantrips and the spells blink, cats’s grace, chill touch, enlarge person, fox’s cunning, grease, haste, lightning bolt, mage armor, scorching ray, shocking grasp, shrink item, spider climb, and web. No ‘make invisible’ there, although of course that could have been a scroll or potion too. Quite possible too that this wasn’t his spellbook. We didn’t see a holy symbol, but his wand was clerical in nature. Ironbrier had clearly attacked us. But he was a Justice. Who in the town would believe us? If we tried to turn him in and he pointed at us and claimed we’d kidnapped him, what would stop the town guard from arresting us, either because they were convinced he was telling the truth or simply from duty?

Could it be he was under some compulsion to attack us or work with the Brothers? But what about the evil Avia had sensed earlier? Was it possible that both were true — he’d been under a spell but was nevertheless evil? Could you be evil and be a Justice? I suppose if one were lawful it might still be a decent fit 🙁

He was likely not one of the doppelgangers, as they changed form when attacked and he had not. And now, having stabilized him and made him helpless, was dispatching him even an option? Did our morals compel us to turn him over to the authorities even it might result in our becoming outlaws?

How much time did we have before the man who escaped returned with reinforcements? Or worse, the city guard? If this Justice was corrupt, might others be too? If he was a victim of evil magic, might others be too?

We had no sure way of detecting his true intentions and we no longer believed his words. Sabin pointed out that if we wanted to wait just fifteen minutes, he could learn a spell which would detect the man’s thoughts. That might help us decide how to proceed. I tended to think the man might be bewitched, and so cast detect magic on his form. I detected two spells .. the strongest being an enchantment spell of some sort, and the second being an abjuration spell. If Olithar cast dispel magic, it would remove the enchantment. But I could not tell what spells he was specifically under; only their schools.

An enchantment spell could be a charm. And an abjuration spell could be thwarting our attempts to divine his intentions. While we discussed, Sabin studied. Finally, we concluded we would try to detect his thoughts and see if they aligned with whatever story he had.

Olithar cast dispel magic upon him. Sabin cast detect thoughts. And Kane first channelled energy to the group and then specifically healed Ironbrier.

I was able to tell the enchantment spell was gone, leaving only abjuration.

He shook his head as if to clear it. He looked at us, and looked aghast. He’d been charmed, he said, by Areesha. She had made him do horrible things, and … and … he could no longer show his face in this town. While he might be able to convince a court he was compelled to do these things against his will, his reputation would be shot. He would have to leave town. He suggested a deal: release him, give him 12 hours to put his affairs in order, and he would tell us everything he knew of Aleesha, including her defenses and where she currently was. She was behind the murders, though he didn’t say why. She was the one who had captured him while he was investigating, and then turned him into her tool. He’d cast a non-divination spell to stop her from finding him but it hadn’t worked.

And I know that spells like that could last as long as 24 hours, but spells from the same school could also be used to misdirect alignment. So again, he could be telling the truth .. or not. We could tell for sure in 24 hours but we’d be foolish to sit here that long.

Sabin quietly told us his thoughts matched his words. So now what?

We told Ironbrier we’d have to consider his situation, and retired to the other side of the room to have a good but quiet think.

The group was divided. We needed more information. Could one of the men that attacked us provide it? A few of us went downstairs to revive one of the men on the second floor and interrogate him, but he wouldn’t crack. He tried to make me FLEE! but failed, and began ranting on how we might win this battle but we’d lose the war, and then we’d be sorry we picked the wrong side, and … it got boring fast.

And so now, as I’d mentioned at the beginning, we sit with perhaps the most critical decision for our little party to be made. If we choose poorly, we may find ourselves doing the right thing but on the wrong side of the law. But are we doomed to that fate regardless? Should we just leave the carnage and the corpse of Ironbrier for the guard to find? Ironbrier presents a dilemma unlike any we’d faced before: release him, leave him, or kill him? There are some among us who cannot abide killing a helpless person, which he now is.

I think most of us are convinced he was indeed the evil entity that Avia had sensed, but is he now telling the truth with the enchantment removed? Was it a charm that he is now free from? Or was it some other magic that he had cast upon himself as protection or some sort of misdirection? Even with my admittedly limited knowledge of the schools of magic, I cannot think of an enchantment spell that could be used in any other way than to compel or control somebody so his story does have a hollow ring of truth to it.

Would we save an evil person to destroy a greater evil? Would evil betray us if we chose this option and thus destroy any hope of warding off the greater evil? Does evil imply not trustworthy? This decision could have a profound impact upon our future.

Character: Olithar

Olithar’s Journal Entry for November

== Starday, Neth 16, 4707; Sandpoint, Mid Morning ==

Our first morning back in Sandpoint went well; and we were quite productive going through the items we had accumulated, and determining what to keep and what to sell. In the end we all have more than enough gold to train, even after tithing and other expenses.

I never thought before that I should be in possession of such sums of gold, but equipment and training for our line of work is expensive, and I am not in jeopardy of becoming wealthy.

Speaking of expenses, I have purchase Nolin’s horse and tack, which he no longer needed now that the splendid war horse he rescued on Thistestop has recovered. I was surprised that Nolin had not named his old horse, and so I gave him one: Leopold Butters Stotch. Butters has proven to be a feisty but reliable mount.

Most of us begin training today, which will keep us busy for some time now.

== Sunday, Neth 24, 4707; Sandpoint, Morning ==

Kane has completed his training and began to investigate the loose threads we unraveled at the Misgivings. I have free time today as well as most evenings, which I will use to help as I am able.

I used a Make Whole spell to repair Vorel’s broken seven sided box — we might have use for it later.

== Sunday, Kuthona 1, 4707; Sandpoint, Evening ==

Kane, Rigel and Avia have left for Magnimar. The rest of us will join them once we have completed training.

We deem the trip necessary for several reasons.

First, the worthies of Sandpoint are either unable or unwilling to provide any information about the Brothers of the Seven — that accursed organization we believe is responsible for the tragic events at the Misgivings, and the grizzly murders around Sandpoint.

Second, we have heard stories from Magnimar that tell of the same sort of killings in Magnimar, complete with the sihedron rune carved on the victims’ chests.

Third, Aldrin returned to Sandpoint from Magnimar, and perhaps he left behind some sort of clue as to the nature of the Brothers, for whom he was working. Also we believe his sisters may still be living there — perhaps they can recall something useful about their family history.

Nolin’s family lives in Magnimar, and he has written a letter of introduction to his parents for Kane and company; thus providing them with a place safe to stay while they familiarize themselves with the great city.

Likewise I have provided a letter of introduction for Avia to take with her to the Temple of Sarenrae, where I was trained.

With luck they will have done much of the initial legwork for this investigation by the time the rest of us arrive.

== Toilday, Kuthona 10, 4707; Sandpoint, Evening ==

We have received a letter from our compatriots in Magnimar, providing us with news of their journey and what they have found thus far in that fair city of ancient ruins. Kane, Rigel and Avia have been gone more than a week, and it was reassuring to hear that they were well and safe as may be.

Their trip was not uneventful, and serves as a reminder for us to be on our guard when we follow their route four days from hence.

Late on their first day they beheld an amazing and horrible sight: they heard and ungodly scream in the distance, and watched as a huge winged horse reared up and flew away. Kane recalled a local legend that circulates up and down the Lost Coast Road about a nightmarish horse that stole cattle and unattended children. We’ve heard the locals refer to it as the Sandpoint Devil, but up until now I had assumed it was a story used to subdue misbehaving children.

The next night they found their camp invaded by hideous goblin snakes, which they managed to kill or drive away with little hurt to themselves.

They arrived in Magnimar on the third of Kuthona, where Nolin’s parents gave them a hearty welcome, and a brief introduction to the layout of the city.

Wasting no time they set out at once to the Marble District, where they thought the likes of a family as old and wealthy as the Foxgloves would live.

After spending a little time (and some gold) with a city bureaucrat they found that Aldrin Foxgloves’ two sisters had moved away some time ago. Far, far away — perhaps they possessed more wisdom than their fool hardy brother.

At an inn in the district they found an old acquaintance of Aldrin’s, who said that Aldrin was up in Sandpoint, but he still kept a a townhouse in the Great Arch District. A few gold coins later and they found themselves before Aldrin’s home away from home.

The ground floor windows were boarded over, and the windows of the other two floors above that showed no signs of life within. A large and unkempt fountain was choked with fallen leaves, which had stained the stagnant water a sickly yellow.

Out back an eight foot wall hid a garden rife with weeds and trees strangled by grasping vines. The gate was barred with boards hastily nailed across the entryway.

They decided to save the closer investigating of the dwelling until the rest of us could join them.

In the meantime they found a place to stay (not wishing to wear out their welcome at Nolin’s parents place), and settled into life in a big city.

One thing they noticed right away was a great civil unrest. The murders, of which we had heard rumor in Sandpoint, were an almost nightly event, with the victims representing a complete cross section of the Magnimar social strata.

The public felt threatened, and felt the city officials were doing little to protect them.

The same said city officials were tight lipped about the entire affair, and our friends could find little information about the murder spree, other than the each victim had had a sihedron carved in their chest, the same as the victims in Sandpoint.

== Starday, Kuthona 14, 4707; The Lost Coast Road, Evening ==

Ah, to be back on the road again! It is a marvelous thing, despite the toil or dread ahead: for the road represents a fresh start, a new place, and more than just a hint of adventure.

True, we are but heading back to the place from where I set out on this grand adventure some five months before, but still I find my spirits lifted all the same.

Whereas on my earlier journey the days were warm, the trees wore jackets of deep green, and the air was redolent with the fresh smell of all living things; now the days are chill, the trees naked, and the crisp air smells of flint.

We have made comfortable camp with a blazing fire, enjoyed a dinner of fine rabbit stew, and have set the watch as the stars have come out and peep down at us.

== Sunday, Kuthona 15, 4707; The Lost Coast Road, Evening ==

Earlier this day as we trotted down the road with the sun blazing overhead we came across a scene of much carnage. The bodies of three horses, still tacked, and the people who had been riding them were arrayed across the road. Feasting on this gruesome supply of flesh were some half a dozen giant geckos.

Nolin charged his war horse directly at one of the beasts as the rest of us dismounted and took to the attack on foot. After fierce but brief battle all of the lizards were dead, but alas there were no survivors from the waylaid party.

We pulled the corpses from the road and arrayed the saddles and other equipment neatly nearby as a windfall to the next travelers who came this way. We found 20 gold coins, which we kept for ourselves, along with a wand that Task took.

[230] wand of knock [18 charges]

== Toilday, Kuthona 17, 4707; Magnimar, Noon ==

We arrived in the city early this morning, and immediately met with the others before heading out to search the city for what clues we could find about the recent series of murders and the Brothers of the Seven.

Nolin was once a member of the local constabulary, and he was able to confirm with his friends of the guard the details of the killings. He also found that the officials were intentionally keeping as much secret as they could, to avoid panicking the public.

It seemed very much like the intent of the slayings was in fact to cause as much public unrest and terror as possible. The common threads between this butchery and what we had uncovered in Sandpoint were the sihedron carved into the corpses’ chests and the Foxglove family, who had secret dealings with the Brothers.

We found obtaining any information about the Brothers of the Seven in Magnimar was just as difficult as it had been in Sandpoint. People either claimed to have never heard of them, or had only heard the name as some mythical organization from long ago.

I spent much of the morning over at the Temple where I had spent the past eight years of my life. Father Tyrion was pleased to see me again, and quite taken aback at all that had happened in Sandpoint since he had sent me there earlier this year.

Tyrion had heard of stories of a very evil, brutal and blood thirsty organization called the Brothers of the Seven, but had thought them merely legendary tales of horror from another time. Oddly enough he did seem uncomfortable talking about them, almost as if he had just realized that those stories of vile and despicable deeds and the group behind them might be for real, and possibly responsible for the recent killings in Magnimar.

Avia, who had accompanied me to the temple, and I joined our companions at an inn near Aldrin’s town-home. We plan to pay it a special visit after lunch.

== Toilday, Kuthona 17, 4707; Magnimar, Late Afternoon ==

We left the inn and made the short walk to Aldrin’s place. We gathered around the back gate — except for Nolin, who remained out front — and removed the boards barring our way. We discovered that the old iron key we found at Foxglove Manor unlocked the latch, and after fetching Nolin we entered the yard.

A sort of solarium was attached to the house in back, and its door was unlocked so we filed in. Beyond that was a formal dining room, with doors to the north and south.

Avia was detecting evil from in two locations within the house, and the room to the south was a study. The desk had been rifled through, with all of the papers thrown about the room and the drawers smashed against the wall.

The door to the east led to a pleasant living room, and there, sitting on a sofa, hand in hand, pleasantly smiling at us were Aldrin and Iesha Foxglove!

“Oh, welcome,” said Aldrin, “we thought we heard someone come in. Are you hungry? We can prepare something for you.”

Knowing the fate of the real Aldrin and Iesha we were quite puzzled and taken aback, and talked with these doppelgangers for a while to try and discern who they really were and why they were here, posing as the dead couple. That they were evil Avia had assured us.

Dispel Magic did nothing to change their countenance, and they continued to merrily chat about the weather and their life in town as if they weren’t dead as dust back up at the Misgivings where we had last found and left them.

Aldrin seemed really insistent about preparing dinner, and stood up to make his way into another room.

Meanwhile Nolin had opened the north door of the dining room and came face to face with some hideous creature with slavering fangs and a nasty set of claws. He quickly closed the door, but the beast burst through.

Having heard the commotion from up north, I confronted the Aldrin-thing about its evil persona, at which point he ceased to be the charming host as he and Iesha lashed out at those of us in the room. They too now looked like the monsters they were.

They proved incredibly tough adversaries, and with a great deal of skill and effort (and not just a little healing) we managed to kill them.

Sabin or Trask thought they were same ancient monster — the very first of such things to curse the world with their presence. Although why they were here posing as the lovely couple was still a mystery.

The Aldrin look alike had been carrying a fine sword, which we confiscated.

[231] masterwork long-sword

We then set about exploring and searching the house. We found the signs of a thorough search in every room, with furniture ransacked and items slashed and tossed about the place.

Someone was looking desperately for something, and it became apparent that they had not found it, and resorted to more destructive means of searching as their frustration grew.

The top floor boasted a grand master bedroom with an attached study to the south. The study had a zebra skin pelt on the floor, and a fireplace with an interesting mantle, sporting two lion heads. I began to search the lion heads for some sort of hidden mechanism to a secret compartment, but it took Kane’s clever eyes to spot the tiny, deep hole in one lion’s mouth.

The odd lion head key we had found earlier activated the mechanism, which dropped a panel to a hidden space in the mantel.

Within was 200 platinum coins, a case with legal paperwork, and documents for the townhouse itself, including a ledger of expenses.

In the paperwork we finally found written evidence for the existence of the Brotherhood! They had financed a large part of the Misgivings, as we had learned from the family journals found at the manor house.

The ledger held unusual entries for expenses (200 gp a week) paid to “B7” for “Iesha’s trip to Ashalon.” The entries appeared to be in Aldrin’s hand writing and dated as recently as a month before. Iesha in Ashalon? But wasn’t Iesha already dead a month ago? And why keep paying B7 for her expenses in that far away city if she were not actually there?

It looks like we have another mystery on our hands.

Character: Trask

The Journal of Trask Feltherup

We arrived back in town, having dodged the undead birds as I previously described, and found our friends already in treatment. Here in town, their situation seemed much less dire, and it did not take long at all before they were completely cured.

We were unsure of what to do about the Misgivings, but one thing was clear: we were a little underprepared for what we’d run into there. So it was that the party decided to undergo a little extra training, ranging from one to four weeks in duration depending on the individual, during which we honed existing skills and learned a few new ones.

I myself was able to engage a master sorcerer and, within the space of three weeks, learn the spells of identify and mirror image, and improve my skills with magic devices, spellcraft, perception, and healing. I also took up the study of arcane knowledge, learning more about the origins of magic and different forms it may take. Conditioning and workouts improved my toughness, and some concentration techniques allowed me to better focus some of my spells. It was, if I may say, 300 gp well spent. Although I must admit, it wasn’t all that long ago that paying 300 gp for an education was entirely beyond my capability.

I’m proud of how I’ve done. I find myself relying more on my magic than my quarterstaff or claws these days. I guess that makes me more like Father.

The group went through the items and artifacts we’d uncovered and decided to sell a portion of it for living and training expenses. My share came to 414 gold, 2 silver, and 5 copper. Deducting my training expenses, I find myself still adding to my wealth, which now totals 668 gp, 6 sp, and 5 cp. I am by no means wealthy, but neither am I destitute.

With some of the group finishing earlier than others, it is not surprising that some had the time to undertake some more research related to the Misgivings after their study was done. The caretaker, we had learned, was named Roger Craysbee, and we thought he might have been able to tell us more of the manor. And well he might have … had he not succumbed to ghoul fever and been killed at our own hand upon arriving in the area! Well, greater good and all that I suppose.

Kane and Rigel asked around and it seems there have been no new ghoul outbreaks. Locally, we seem to have addressed the problem. We did discover that apparently there were some rather grisly murders in Magnimar – faced ripped off, symbols carved into the bodies, that sort of thing — within the last month. Word has been slow to spread about this because the authorities seem to be trying to control communications about this.

About a week after this, Kane, Rigel, and Avia decided to go to Magnimar and investigate the rumored murders. It is also possible they may find information about Alderin’s (hopefully still living) sisters there. The plan was for them to investigate while the rest completed their studies, and return in time for us all to decide what to do next. They left, conveniently, on 1 Kuthona.

Travel to Magnimar is 2-3 days, depending on how long you travel each day, and the pace you set. We expected the earliest they’d be back would be about a week, and the latest to be about two. Instead, after about a week we got what appeared to be a hastily written note, saying that on their trip there they’d seen some sort of demon horse and fought off snakes and that there was more to tell about the murders and we should come there rather than they coming back to Sandpoint.

So it was that upon the “graduation” of the last student, Olithar, Nolin, Sabin and myself headed south to Magnimar. It was the 15th of Kuthona as we set off.

Sunday, 15 Kuthona, 4707

Later that same day, we came across a bloody scene. There were three dead horses, and at least one dead human .. and six giant geckos partaking of the buffet. They did not seem vicious enough to have initiated the carnage, but rather seemed more like opportunistic scavengers.

In fact, I took a couple of steps towards them and stomped my feet and shouted, to see if they’d scatter. (I don’t think my companions agreed this was a clever test.) Nolin remained on his mount and the others readied their weapons. When the gecko closest to me took an awkward swipe at me, the lizard exterminators went to town. Olithar’s gleeful use of a fireball did little to win them over (and it turns out that cooked gecko really doesn’t smell all that savory.) Five of them eventually went down; a sixth got away at a comparatively leisurely pace. The only person injured by these large creatures was Sabin.

Inspecting the remains we found only

20gp
[230] wand (of knock, 18 charges)

We theorized these might have been traveling thieves (travelling no longer).

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and we arrived in Magnimar on 17 Kuthona.

Toilday, 17 Kuthona, 4707

Upon our arrival Avia, Kane, and Rigel greeted us and told us in more detail of their adventures.

Apparently on their way here, they were camped the first night when one of them heard a sound. Not too far away, perhaps a quarter mile or so, they saw a big horse coming over the crest of a hill. It stood up on its hind legs and made a scream unlike anything a horse makes. Creatures ran blindly away from it. It spread its wings (!) and flew up into the night. It had a tail as long as its body, if not longer. Thankfully it flew away from them, not towards them. Kane says it sort of matches up with the description of the Sandpoint Devil, considered by many (but now none in our group) to be something of a legend. It’s supposedly responsible for missing livestock and children.

They slept uneasily that night.

On their next night, Kane was on guard when he heard rustling. Instead of waking the others, he investigated, and almost got outnumbered by a small group of 6-8 foot snakes. After a skirmish, they disappeared and Kane sheepishly admitted they were “goblin snakes”.

The next day, 3 Kuthona, they had arrived in Magnimar. They were staying with Nolin’s parents, who had graciously opened up their home to their son’s friends. They entered from the NE gates and Nolin’s parents’ house was actually not too far from that gate, in a moderately affluent section of town. Successful merchants tend to characterize the residents in this part of town.

Nolin’s parents had no particular knowledge of the Foxglove sisters, but suggested that the census bureau may know of them. Kane and Rigel each cleverly but foolishly independently bribed the officials with 10gp to get them to reveal that they might want to look in the Marble district.

Once there, they and Avia when to a pub and bribed a barkeep 10gp (only once, this time) to learn that they seemed to be in Korvosa. But they also learned that Aldrin’s townhouse was in the Great Arch district.

It was about this time they thought it better for the group to come to Magnimar rather than for them to return to Sandpoint, and sent the cryptic note to us.

Over the intervening days they continued asking trying to find out more about both the Foxgloves and the murders. But the authorities were really clamping down, because the citizens were getting so nervous as to be almost riotous. Victims allegedly came from all walks of life (again, the official were making no official statements) which meant nobody felt safe. Word on the street was that there was about one a night, but it was clear after a couple of inquiries that we were not going to duplicate our teamwork with the Sandpoint constabulary. They really were being very tightlipped here, and any investigation would have to be without the benefit of official assistance or authority.

On the other hand, that can make the investigation go more smoothly too. Clearly the authorities in this town are not doing the citizenry any favors by withholding information.

Upon our arrival, Olithar was quick to check with the head of his order at the church, whom he knows well, but again found there was little information to be had.

We were filled in with the efforts of the other half of our group, and the full group proceeded to Aldrin’s townhouse. It appeared to have an enclosed garden in the back (enclosed by a wall) and seemed locked up. A decorative fountain out front was not running. Strangely, the windows on the ground floor were boarded up, in contrast to the other houses around it. This did not seem to be a disreputable section of town, and the boarded windows made it rather stand out. But they were not boarded at the front of the house, just the side and back. From the front, it looked just like any other of the townhouses on this street.

Nolin was uncomfortable about prying the boards off and breaking into the house, but when we produced the key we’d retrieved from the manor and found it fit into the lock on the back door, he decided that owning the key meant we had every right to enter the house, and rejoined us. Having pried the boards off the back door, and unlocking it, we cautiously entered what used to be the garden. It obviously hadn’t been tended for a while and was overgrown (although not really gone wild.) There was no evidence that anyone had been through the garden recently.

There was a door into what appeared to be a little sunroom, and all the windows here were also boarded over. We entered the sunroom. The room was cold (boarded windows; no sunlight!) and stale smelling. Another door led into the main part of the house and was not locked.

This appeared to be the kitchen. A small pantry was found to the north, and doors led to the north and south. To the south was a study, but it appeared to have been ransacked. The chair was turned over, and the drawers on the desk were open with papers scattered around. Avia turned on her evil radar and announced quietly that there was evil to the east and north.

Sabin, Kane, and Avia went east — and found, much to their surprise, that Aldrin and Aiesha were seated their in the lounge, rising to their feet as the group entered. “So nice to see you. Have you eaten? We can make you some lunch.” They seemed utterly human but Avia confirmed again they were evil. A shout from the kitchen seemed to confirm that something evil might be entering the kitchen — Nolin had opened the door to the north only to find a horrible, largish creature on the other side, and shut the door.

Meanwhile, Aldrin was continuing the small talk and it seemed that this Aldrin did not know a) he was dead, and b) his dog was dead, or c) who we really were. Finally Olithar interrupted with “How long have you been evil?” and Aldrin replied “that’s a rude question.” And the melee began. Both Aldrin and Aiesha rippled a bit before becoming creatures that, we learned later when we compared corpses, were similar to the one that had decided to come after Nolin in the kitchen.

Olithar, Avia, Kane, and Sabin battled the two in the lounge, while Nolin, myself, and Rigel battled the one in the kitchen. They were awfully strong, and Olithar and Nolin both took damage before the creatures were put to rest. I used magic missiles to work on the creature in the kitchen, to good effect.

At the completion of this battle, Avia turned on her radar again and found no more evil within range. We discussed what these creatures may have been here for and why they took the shapes they did, but decided the answer must lie within the house somewhere. All the rooms on the first floor, including the trophy room from which the third creature had emerged, appeared tossed and thoroughly searched. We went upstairs.

On the second floor we found a hallway, a guest bedroom, an empty corridor (?!) and a library (with the floor, of course, full of tossed and thrashed books).

On the third and highest floor we found a master bedroom and another study. We observed from the dust that nobody had been here for about a couple of months, so the creatures we fought must have stayed downstairs. Were they responsible for any of the murders in town? What WAS their purpose? I guess we won’t know. Rigel went to search the study but it was who Kane noticed something unusual about two lion heads on the mantle of the fireplace. On the left lion, the back of the throat had a little hole. Rigel found that the lionhead key we got from the manor fit perfectly. The right lion head went click and we found the head now bent back. This is a bag of 200 platinum pieces in it and a shallow wooden case with legal papers in it and a thin black ledger.

The legal papers were with regard to the manor. 2/3 of the house was paid for by the Foxgloves; 1/3 by the Brothers. Over the last three months, payments for “Aiesha’s trip to Absalon” of 200 gp per week were made at the Brothers 7 Mill. A month and a half ago was the last payment … around the time of Aldrin’s death. The entries look to my untrained eye to be made by Aldrin. Who did the money belong to? What was this trip — Aiesha was dead too and must have been during the time these payments were being made. Was this some sort of code phrase or was it really planning for some sort of trip? Absalon is months away by travel, unless one goes by magic.

So now we sit in a building with three corpses and an enigma, and think.

Character: Olithar

Olithar’s October Journal Entry

== Oathday, Neth 14, 4707; The Misgivings, Evening ==

While I was updating my journal, Sabin and the others spent the past half hour investigating the odd basement room in which we found ourselves.

Sabin was convinced this was an arcane workshop at one time, with work tables and rusty tools and paraphernalia scattered across their surfaces.

The northern stained glass window depicted a gaunt man drinking from a vial filled with a shocking green fluid. The southern showed the same man, but with the familiar signs of rot and corruption associated with undead. His arms were uplifted in triumph as his form turned to smoke which was consumed by a seven sided box.

A set of moldy books on necromancy occupied Sabin, but when Rigel touched one she paused and stared out with vacant eyes. It lasted but for a moment, and afterward she described a vision where she was Vorel at his moment of triumph just as he was to consume the potion that would transform him into a lich. But as he drank the potion he doubled over in pain. This vision was quickly replaced with a powerful sense of anger — anger that a loved one could do such a thing to themselves — followed immediately by fear and a sense that she must save their children.

We took the books, which Nolin stored in his pack.

[214] 10 Necromancy books (Nolin)

A second door in the southern wall led to a short hall and another door, which opened onto a flight of stairs leading down and around to the north.

At the base of these stairs was a square room with walls carved from the surrounding rock. The floor was littered with blocks of stone and in the center of the room was a staircase, spiraling far down into the darkness.

Picks and chisels were laying about the rubble; and it looked as if the stairway had been bricked over with stone and mortar in the past, but this had been recently torn apart.

Wafting up from the pit was a terrible stench of death and decay.

We prepared to descend with Sabin, who can see in the dark, leading the way; but as soon as Avia stepped onto the stairs she gasped and began to flail about with her sword and buckler as if she were fighting some unseen foe.

Gashes and bite marks appeared on her skin as we raced to her aid, but we could neither see nor feel anyone (or thing) other than ourselves in the room. Detect Undead revealed nothing.

After a few moments she stopped struggling, and said she saw Aldrin frantically chipping away at the stone on the floor with a pickaxe, all the while repeating, “For you, for you!” He finally broke through the barrier sealing off the stairs when a stream of ghouls filed out from beneath and attacked her.

After a bit of healing we began the descent anew, carefully picking our way down the ancient cracked stone steps as they plunged downward into the darkness and ever growing fetid reek.

At last we reached the bottom, which ended in a large limestone cavern. Sabin estimated that we had come down 80 feet.

The air was damp and water dripped from the ceiling and oozed from the walls, which were covered in blue and black mold that spiraled about in crazy patterns. Bones from various animals and humanoids cluttered the floor, and a sound like a great beast breathing echoed out from the three tunnels that led from the cavern.

The tunnel to the north was narrow, while the one to the northwest was wide and looked well traveled. There were rocks and dirt around the entrance to the southwestern tunnel, which indicated that it was recently opened.

We moved out through the northwest passage into a large natural chamber when a gang of ghouls sprang out from the shadows and attacked. After a short and bitter fight we killed them all, and decided to make sure nothing unpleasant would sneak up from behind.

To this end Nolin volunteered to guard the entrance to the southwest tunnel, and Kane crept into the north tunnel. Unfortunately the northern tunnel was choked with thick matts of mold, which Kane breathed in and was incapacitated for a short time.

We then continued on to the west, winding our way around as the chamber narrowed and bent to the north where it opened into a vast circular grotto.

A side tunnel led due west, but the main chamber was nearly fifty feet across and towered up into the darkness. A wide pathway, or ramp, spiraled down past several cracks and openings before ending in a dark pool of water some fifty feet below.

Large cracks gaped in the wall to the northeast, while a doorway and a dark opening were to the northwest and west.

More bones (fresh and not so) and body parts were strewn about, all of which showed signs of having been gnawed upon, and the stench was horrific.

We took the west tunnel, which led to an oddly shaped chamber with a sloping floor that dropped down to the opening we had seen in the west wall of the circular chamber.

Sabin led us over to the nearby door, which he opened and passed through. I was right behind him, and Avia and the others behind me.

By the seemingly feeble light of our torches we saw a rickety table with a damp surface and all sorts of detritus scattered about it. Fine china and plates and bowls were filled with rotting flesh. A painting sat upright facing away from us.

Behind the table was a high backed leather chair facing the wall.

And behind the chair protruding out from the wall was a thick mass of mold which formed a humanoid shape. From the moldy figure came the most offensive and foul of the odors that had yet assaulted us, and it was all we could do to keep from gagging — indeed some of our team found themselves gagging and choking and could come no further in to the room.

We then saw a broken seven sided box at the foot of the mold man thing.

The chair then slowly turned towards us, with Aldrin calmly sitting there staring at us. He was no longer human, but he also did not look quite like the regular ghouls we had seen thus far.

He caught sight of Avia and became quite excited. “You’ve come to me! I knew my letters would convince you. Now let us consummate our love.” He gestured to the piles of rotting flesh on the table.

Trask made some sort of pert comment and Aldrin’s good humor vanished as he sprang up and attacked.

Avia struck him hard and he collapsed to his knees and began to cry. He sobbed, “The hurter is gone.” He looked back up at us and seemed about as pathetic a figure as a ghoul could.

We asked him what had happened to him, and he said he had to run errands for the Brothers: they wanted him to collect rats and the fungus to find out about the disease down here in the caverns.

Avia quietly confirmed that poor Aldrin was evil, but that the mold man creature behind him was an evil of a far greater power.

Aldrin sobbed on for a few minutes more, crying piteously for us to “Be kind to poor little Aldrin” when all of a sudden his face went blank and he looked up with a huge grin on his face.

“I am the Skinsaw man!” he proclaimed as he jumped up and put on a mask he had been holding. His face changed and morphed into that of Avia as he laughed and charged at us.

A few moments later and he was the dead Skinsaw man.

We then cautiously searched about the room while staying away from the mold man against the wall. On the table we found quite a few items of a personal nature that Aldrin had collected from Avia, like strands of hair and paper on which she had written. More disturbing were a series of drawings Aldrin had made of Avia, many of which had her posed without clothes.

I could not tell if the sudden flush of red on Avia’s cheeks were from anger or embarrassment, but the worse discovery was yet to come. The painting was a portrait of Iesha, but Aldrin had replaced her face with Avia’s by applying gore, blood and other bodily fluids.

We quickly grabbed the seven sided box from the floor.

[203] Seven sided box [broken]

We searched Aldrin’s body and found a handful of interesting items.

[204] +1 War Razor
[205] Ring of Jumping
[206] +1 Ring of Protection
[207] Stalker’s Mask: Crafted from leathery sections of cured human skin, stitched together in overlapping pieces like scales. This item can make the wearer translucent [+5 to hide]. Once per day it also allows the wearer to assume the shape of anyone within 60 feet. This latter ability improves as the mask feeds off of the wearer’s rage and jealousy.
[208] Cameo broach [painting of Avia on inside]
[209] Small iron key

We then torched the mold man with a flask of oil and a little flame, but even though the was mold burned into a cloud of greasy black smoke, the evil remained.

A handful of us then carefully made our way down the ramp to the pool of water. It was frothy sea water, and very deep. A rocky shelf formed a small island to the northwest, but there was little else to see.

I was quite puzzled about the water. How did the sea water get here? The top of the bluff on which the Misgivings was built was at least 300 feet above the sea below, and we had only come down some 140 to 150 feet (at most) from when we climbed down the stairs to the basement.

We returned to the main cavern, where I carefully retrieved a fine pick that Kane had spotted earlier when he had been engulfed in mold spores.

[210] +1 Heavy pick

Joining up with Nolin we passed through the opening to the southwest and into a long and large chamber that stretched to the west.

All manner of remains lay about, including the bodies of two Varisian nomads and another human. Searching them provided no clues to their identity, but we did find several useful objects.

56 gold pieces
[211] Pearl ring
[212] Adamantine long-sword
[213] Hat of disguise

As we were looking over these bodies we heard a loud thump from the west, and a gigantic bat flew in and attacked.

It took some effort, but we killed it and traced its arrival to a small round cavern to the northwest. A small circular opening in the ceiling led up to the surface, and to where I estimated the well was for the servants’ quarters.

We then returned back to the manor’s main hall to see if the odd mold stairway was anything special. Kane pulled the rope hanging from the mouth of the mounted monkey head, and the head shrieked, but nothing else occurred.

[215] Magical monkey head

Just then Trask and Nolin smelled something burning as the old stuffed manticore burst into flames and it whipped its tail about to hit Trask, singing him somewhat. And then it was just a stuffed (and now singed) manticore again.

I decided to experiment and carefully swept away the circular stairway pattern the mold had formed in the center of the hall.

We then decided to investigate the water level of the subterranean pool and using ropes verified that the top of the bluff was indeed 300 feet above sea level.

We then found some additional rope from the attic and returned to the pool where we found that the water level had changed with the tide, indicating a direct linkage of some kind with the sea beyond. How could this be?

Tying a rock to the end of our ropes we dropped it down to 140 feet before it touched bottom. That would put the base of the pool at or just above the level of the sea outside.

On the way back up we checked out the mold man room and found more mold was dripping down from the ceiling, replacing the mold we had burned away and forming another mold man shape.

Back up at the house some of my companions read the books on the Foxglove family while others studied the books on necromancy.

The Foxglove journals revealed a few interesting bits of information:

  • Rogers Crazby was the caretaker of the manor while it was deserted
  • The Foxgloves have long been associated with a shady organization called “Brothers of the Seven” and the their meetings had been hosted at the manor from time to time
  • Vorel original built the house, but his family died and it remained empty for 20 years
  • Aldrin’s family moved in until his parents went crazy and killed one another
  • Another 40 years and Aldrin returned to a tragic end
  • Construction of the manor was funded by the Brothers of the Seven After 100 years ownership of the house and lands would revert to them

Insightful as this information was, we had reached a dead end. Obviously some powerful evil force was still at work in the house, and our work was not yet done here. We needed to return to Sandpoint for extra training and more research before we could finish what we started.

We then experimented with the flocks of undead crows outside and verified that while they were indeed undead, they were not summoned creatures, and that there were more than enough of them to keep us trapped here at the house.

I devised a simple plan for escape that we can try in the morning light.

== Fireday, Neth 15, 4707; Sandpoint, Afternoon ==

Simple plans oft work the best. And so it was with our escape from the Misgivings this morning.

I cast Hide from Undead on all of us, including Nolin’s horse.

Nolin and Rigel then mounted the horse and galloped away, drawing off the undead crows that were unaffected by the Hide from Undead spells.

The rest of us then quickly ran to the northwest, away from the manor and avoiding the birds, until we returned to the road, rejoined with Nolin and Rigel and returned to Sandpoint.

We need to go over our list of recent finds to see what we can sell and how much income this will generate. I think all of us are ready to train, and that will require a large amount of gold.

And while we train we will continue our research on the Foxgloves and the Misgivings.

foxglove_manorB

foxglove_under

Character: Trask

The Journal of Trask Feltherup

Wealday, 13 Neth

I note that before retiring for the evening, Olithar cast magic upon Nolin and Rigel which seemed to improve their health somewhat. It was not healing of the usual sort, but somehow seemed to affect their whole body and vitality. He said it was a “restore” of some sort but seemed dismayed that he could do so little, mumbling to himself that if only he were more accomplished he could do so much better and apologizing for that being all he can do.

All that said, it seemed quite remarkable to me. While I still believe that the concept of deities is simply a means by which clerics focus their magical energies, it is clear that their faith in these imaginary entities is strong and is of great aid to them in their working of magic.

Oathday, 14 Neth

We awoke where we expected to, in the room that Sabin had identified as an arcane workshop. Now that he points them out to me I can see the features which mark it as such, although I myself had never been inside one until now. Reading about them is very different from seeing them (much like undead creatures.)

It is also apparent, now that we’ve read about him and seen a portrait of him, that the gaunt man depicted in the artwork here is, in fact, Vorel Foxglove.

There were books on what appeared to be necromancy in the room, and Rigel announced she was going to check them out. When she touched one, however, she had a vision of Vorel drinking a potion and apparently transforming into a lich. At the same time, however, she felt a strong rage at his doing this to his family.

From our point of view, however, her attention simply seemed to leave us for a moment before focus returned to her eyes and she relayed her story. At least this vision didn’t have her killing us or herself like some of these had. I quickly cast detect magic on the books, but they did not seem magic. I am puzzled about how these magical effects can take place without their being any apparent magic about. I’ll bet if Father were here, he’d have an explanation.

Ah, well now, I mustn’t be wishing for things that can’t be. The whole point of my lengthy trip was to improve and expand the scope of my powers. And I can feel that happening, although I wish Father had told me more of the process. “Each in the family has had to feel it for themselves,” he had said. “As your power grows, so must your control.”

We took the 10 necromancy books with us, although most are not in good shape because of mold and rot.

From this point forward, Rigel seemed a little on edge. She was constantly searching doors, locks, even bare areas of the floor searching for traps. That’s not a bad thing I suppose, but it seemed a little obsessive.

We entered the corridor and past another door we found a stairs down to a broken floor. It seems that the floor here had been broken through with pickaxes, revealing a much older stairway that led down. From the shaft came a foul stench like rotting meat.

Olithar announced he was closing the iron door behind us, primarily to prevent the rats from following us should then reenter this area. But unexpectedly, Avia drew her weapon and started thrashing around. More startlingly, red weals began to appear on her flesh even though there was no visible combatant. When she finally sat down, panting, she looked like she’d taken on ten men, with injuries to show for it. She was bleeding and in need of healing; whatever vision she’d had had been very real to her.

Olithar quickly moved to her and healed her a remarkable amount. While he as doing that, she described her experience. “I saw Aldrin Foxglove,” she explained, “and he was clawing at the floor. ‘For you, for you,'” he kept repeating. When he finally broke through, a host of ghouls had streamed from the hole and, in her vision, attacked her.

A bit of history? Or harbinger of things to come? I cast mage armor upon myself (as did Sabin) just to be safe. And the group descended, about 80 feet.

This led to a limestone cavern, dripping with water, and green and dark blue mold. Bones were scattered about. There lay before us three paths, and a rhythmic, pulsing sound emanated from all three. The one to the southwest appeared to be newer. The northwest and northern passages seemed as though they might connect and loop. We advanced slowly into the NW passage.

We had not gone far before we observed a ghoul with his back to a wall. And then we noticed another, and another .. and we flung ourselves into battle. I think there were 5 that we took out, at least initially. All told, I think 8 of them attacked our party. Avia, of course, was out in front taking them down, but my flaming sphere was doing some damage too!

The threat from the ghouls removed, Avia and Sabin followed the corridor a short ways to a large, sunken pool. It was in a cathedral like cavern, at least 30 feet high down to a pool of what smelled like sea water 50 feet below. Rivulets of water emerged from some gaps in the rocks and cascaded down to the pool. What appeared to be a small (6’ wide at most) island appeared to one side of the pool. It looked like it could be reached by a careful jump from shore, if desired. A slippery looking path spiraled down to the water’s edge. The pool appeared to be sloshing slightly, so it probably had access to the sea outside, and was tidal in nature.

There appeared to be two doors about across from where we stood, about halfway down to the water. Both were shut. From our vantage point and all around us, we could see bones and remains strewn about. The ghouls had obviously been here for some time. The stench was strong.

I must admit, about this time, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d signed up for. Working in the town, and helping disperse the goblin menace, now that’s what I had in mind. This area of necromancy and undead left me out of my element. Thank Go — I mean goodness for my flaming sphere. Fire is to undead like … like .. water to a cube of sugar. They practically dissolve in it, as near as I can tell.

We proceeded to the first door, and found it unlocked. We entered carefully.

The smell in here was especially strong. Initially upon entering we noticed the odd appearance of decor — a table, a large leather chair facing away from us, and a painting. Upon the wall was a large pattern of fungus or mold that almost looked like it had grown over a man. But when looked closely, the table was covered with crystal and maggots; the arms of the chair were sticky and red with blood, and the fungus made several of our party retch uncontrollably.

Before we could get a good look at the painting, we were “greeted” by a likeness of Aldrin Foxglove, sitting in the chair. Turning the chair around and looking right at Avia, it exclaimed “You’ve come to me! Now let’s consummate our hunger!” I merely remarked that he seemed a changed man, when his face seemed to twist in rage, and he rose as if to attack.

Avia struck him full on, and although he was clearly still a ghoul, his face lost its anger and he claimed “the hurter” was gone. “His lordship is at your mercy,” he sobbed.

Olithar cast bless upon us all and asked Aldrin “What are you doing down here?”

“I was doing the errands of the Brothers,” he responded. “They wanted to collect rats and fungus and find out about disease.”

I felt at unease, and threw a color spray such that it got both Aldrin and the evil moss wall. There was no reaction from either.

Avia confirmed that Aldrin was still evil, and that the fungus was very evil. Suddenly, Sabin announced that the fungus was actually his shadow, and made as if to eat it — as if anybody could understand the connection between the two statements. But before anyone could make a move to stop him, he caught himself in mid-reach, and seemed to shake it off.

At the same time Aldrin underwent a change again and he no longer looked so pitiful. If anything, he looked piteous. “you may call me the Skinsaw Man!” he exclaimed. He placed a mask over his face and his visage contorted … and then he looked like Avia.

I cast a flaming sphere on him. He seemed adept at dodging it, however. Avia, probably standing nearest to him, was incensed at seeing him assume her face and lashed out at him viciously. Sabin, too, was wicked with his weapon. Aldrin got a couple of attacks in on Avia that wounded her gravely, but nothing a cleric couldn’t help with. Giving up on the flame, I hit him with a couple of magic missiles and after the beating that he’d already taken from Sabin and Avia, that took the last vestiges of life from him. The Skinsaw Man quickly dissolved to nothing but a pile of rotted flesh and smelly clothes.

Olithar tried burning the “mold man” with oil and while it successfully burned, it did nothing to dispel the evil, according to Avia, other than to disperse it around the room as if it was now borne by the smoke.

The portrait was originally of Aiesha, but Aldrin had grotesquely altered it with blood and other gore to make it look more like Avia. In addition, there was a small collection of Avia-related bits: a used vial, a bit of her hair, a note she’d written. There were speculative drawings he’d made of her … suffice it to say that Avia felt Aldrin had disintegrated far too soon for her wrath to have been fully demonstrated.

From the room, we took a +1 war razor [204], and a stalker’s mask [207] which was made from human skin. Were one to wear it, one would find they could assume the face of a particular target, and make themselves faint and less detectable, making it easier to hide. They also would find it easier to attack the person whose face it was resembling. There was a ring of jumping [205], a +1 ring of protection [206], a cameo brooch with a picture of Avia in it (golden, with a gemstone) [208] and a small iron key [209]. We also picked up the broken, seven sided box [203] which we believe was used during the elder Foxglove’s failed attempt to lichify.

We inspected the pool of water but found nothing of note. The water appeared to be fairly deep. By our rough calculations, the water should not be here (and should not be tidal) as we thought we’d only descended about half the distance to the sea. But we found nothing to explain this apparent discrepancy.

Returning to the stairway by which we’d entered, Kane showed Olithar the pickaxes. Although most were destroyed or rotted, one seemed to still be in good condition. We identified it as a magic, +1 pickaxe. The diggings near the pickaxes apppeared to be recent in the sense of within the last few months, while much of the area down here seemed much older.

As we went to explore the last passage from the stairway and found more remains, some of which appeared to be human. Holding our noses, we did find among the bones a pearl ring [211], an adamantine long sword [212] and a hat of disguise [213]. While deciding how to best split these up we heard a thump from further down the passage, and upon investigating discovered that a large bat had apparently descended down an opening in the ceiling. It too seemed to be possessed of some sort of undeadness because it proved difficult to dispatch. But Avia’s and Sabin’s weapons, and my magic missiles again proved persuasive. Eight on one is overwhelming odds and we did succeed at making it a corpse again. Kane did find himself immobilized at one point, but the effect was temporary.

Thinking of the terrain above us, we concluded that the opening thru which it had descended must be the old well. But since the well went no deeper than this, that implies that at one time there was water here, and it was not the sea water we’d found in the pool but fresh water. What had driven the water away? Yet another puzzle.

We returned to the main hall to investigate the moldy stairway that seemed to be located over the stairway we’d just discovered. While we didn’t find any apparent connection, both Nolin and I smelled something burning. And faster than you could say “another fatal illusion” I was battling a manticore. Although it was very real to me, and I took damage from its tail, an instant later it was again a fake manticore before me. Olithar healed me, and discussion turned to what else we could do here.

The house was still full of mold and evil things, but it seemed beyond us to cure its condition. We still had two party members suffering from the effect of spore-exploding paintings, and they would probably be served best by getting them back to town. But there was the problem of the ever-vigilant undead swarms of crows sitting outside, which seemed intent on extending our stay. And it seemed there were still a few mysteries to solve here as well.

We went outside to inspect the cliff. None of us felt particularly competent at judging heights, but felt it was about 300 feet. We then tied together our ropes and went back down to the pool, dropping it over the side weighted with a rock, and we could tell that the bottom of the pool roughly was at sea level. This still didn’t explain why the water would rise so high, but there is obviously still magic in place here and that must be part of it.

On the way back, we stopped by briefly in Aldrin’s room and found that the mold was beginning to reform the “mold man” lump. That was disconcerting but, apparently, harmless to us.

We returned to the Foxglove family journals trying to understand better if there was something more we could do here by studying the history of the place. We learned:

  • Rogers Craysbee was the caretaker of the manor during the times it was deserted — he may be of use in determining what’s been happening.

  • The manor is about 80 years old and has always been in the Foxglove family. Local people started calling it The Misgivings because of the way it made them feel. There were reports of a huge batwinged devil.

  • It was originally built by Vorel, who lived in it over 20 years. It was empty for about that long again before Aldrin’s parents moved in. It went empty again when they killed themselves about 40 years ago and now Aldrin had returned to a bad end.

  • Mention was made of the Brothers of the Seven. Their meetings had been hosted at the house from time to time, and perhaps most oddly, the construction of the house had been funded by the Brothers, and after 100 years of ownership, the house and lands would revert to them.

It was decided that we would stay one more night and then try to get past the crows and return to Sandpoint.

Fireday, 15 Neth

Naught happened overnight, and so it was that in the morning, Olithar cast hide from undead upon all of us plus Nolin’s horse. Nolin and Rigel, being still affected by the strange disease, took the horse and left knowing they’d get to Sandpoint faster. A couple of flocks of crows noted them, but they could not fly faster than a galloping horse and soon fell behind. We, on the other hand, ran away to the northwest and none of the remaining flocks saw us. Reaching the road, we too turned to Sandpoint.

Which is where we are now. If ever one needed proof of evil in the world, The Misgivings is the place to obtain it. Things undead, disease, and harmful apparitions underscore that. Had Father told me of these things, I think I’d have … well, no, I wouldn’t have. I’d have dreaded them and perhaps not been so eager to “seek adventure” but I would have still ventured forth. I would still have made my way to Sandpoint and still have met up with those I now mostly consider my friends.

At least, that’s what I’d like to think, and we’ll never know different now.

Character: Trask

The Journal of Trask Feltherup

Wealday, Neth 13

I’m disappointed that through an unfortunate accident, a few pages of my journal got a little wet and so my last entries are now smudged and unreadable. I must be more careful to close my journal and wrap it in something absorbent to avoid such mishaps in the future.

So to recap briefly, today I returned from a trip back to Sandpoint (or thereabouts) having taken a man we found to be suffering from ghoul disease to the cathedral for healing. When I returned, the party had decided to go to the MisGivings, which is the Foxglove family manor. Although I’ve very sure when we arrived that there were no animals of note visible, now that we want to leave there seems to be hundreds, maybe thousands of crows or ravens dangerously sitting outside the door, inviting us to try. Just try. Anyone getting too close to them — or too far from the house — seems to be an invitation for them to not-too-subtly herd the person back to the house.

But I’m ahead of myself. Much has happened since we arrived here.

We were in the entry hall, which apparently also served as the dining area, when a random check for magic objects detected that the monkey’s head with a rope/chain coming out of its mouth was in fact magic. However, unlike a shiny urn that radiates magic, or a dusty lamp, or a nice shield, nobody seemed particularly eager to go use the monkey. I think it is true that we prejudge the nature of magic by the vessel that contains it. Something shiny, clean and bright radiating magic will be picked up, touched, or handled before something dingy, grungy, or decayed looking. I shall have to remember that if ever I have cause to set a trap, or have cause to hide some magic.

In any case, this room has a stocked bookcase. Among the volumes I found were three detailing a history of the Foxglove family. This was more of a handwritten family history than a published reference book, and I spent a few moments reading the various entries. I noted a couple of things:

1) The first volume begins in 4620, or almost 90 years ago. While this is clearly not an ancient family history, it is surprising that a record of only 90 years would take three volumes. There must be significant detail here.
2) Judging from what little I’ve seen of his handwriting, and from the observations of the writer, the history appears to end with entries of Aldrin’s.
3) He speaks of Aiesha, whom he would marry, within the last year.
4) A cryptic note at the beginning, when the homestead was being located, mentioned that “the Brothers may help.”

While the books on this bookcase were interesting, upon entering the next room we discovered an entire room with books, floor to ceiling. And we also discovered many of them seem to be afflicted with mildew. Those of us who appreciate books find this to be a pity, such a fine library falling into such disrepair. There was a fine looking red and gold scarf [200] near an overturned chair. Oddly, the scarf showed no mold. A book of Varysian history lie open on the floor. In the fireplace, a stone bookend lie smashed into fragments.

Kane walked into the room and seemed to pantomime choking. This would have been odd enough, except it was accentuated by the scarf leaping from the floor and wrapping against his throat. We barely had time to rush forward before he was whipping the scarf away and panting.

Although we heard nothing, Kane had distinctly heard a woman’s scream. As the scarf pulled tightly against his throat, he had a vision of Aldrin before him, clearly angry, and his hand twisting the scarf tightly against Kane’s throat. Then it passed.

Olithar opened the drapes (also mildewy or moldy) to let in some light. We detected no magic, but Avia did momentarily sense some evil in the room, but it faded quickly. She could not tell to where it may have gone. We found it odd that there was no apparent source of moisture in the room that would explain the mildew.

We examined the bookend, and discovered that it had what appeared to be dried blood and hair, and maybe even skull fragments. Did Aldrin kill his fiancee/wife in this room? What powerful force caused that to be re-enacted? Or was this all for our consumption, to get us to believe that Aldrin had done this? After all, it seems certain we WERE expected to come here.

At this point, we just didn’t know.

So the party moved into another room off the dining room, which turned out to be something of a lounge or sitting room. It was rather smallish, but had some a large couch, and of course another fireplace. The couch, unfortunately, seemed to have some sort of white fungus on it. Rigel lifted it with her foot, but nothing seemed under it or around it. As Rigel examined the fireplace, several odd things happened at once.

First, she noted there was a movement of dust around the fireplace, as though somebody other than Rigel was moving near there. Second, Avia announced the presence of evil. At the same time, in case there was something corporeal and invisible, I threw down a caltrop. Some later said they heard a whispered “Laurie”, but I didn’t. I just knew with utter conviction, that it was dangerous to be there. I grabbed Rigel and told her we needed to leave — SHE needed to leave. She was trying to go check out another room to the west. I remember thinking, I need to get my daughter out of the house before it affected her too. She was resisting, arguing, typical for a child. Why wouldn’t she just listen to her mother? There wasn’t time for a discussion or an argument! How long would it take before she wandered down to the basement and discovered it? That mustn’t happen!

And as I grabbed her again with greater resolve, the memory faded. Olithar had cast remove fear upon me, but we still don’t know if that had an effect or if the effect wore off on its own. I found myself facing a perplexed but increasingly agitated Rigel, who was reaching for one of the 1379 knives she always has somewhere on her body, and I quickly released her, looking around at the party. I think it was Kane who said, “It happened to you this time, didn’t it?” I nodded, and described my experience.

We did go inspect the room to the west, which appeared to be a bathroom or at least a cleaning room. There was a washbin that had a decidedly diseased rat in it, unable to climb out. It was eyeless and clearly in distress. Nolin killed it.

We continued to the room in the NW corner of this floor. This appeared to be a parlor of sorts, with a remarkably preserved piano. The rest of the room showed extensive decay and rot; it made the piano stand out all the more. We opened the double doors to the outside to let some fresh air in. Olithar played a simple tune on the piano and announced with some surprise that it appeared to be in perfect tune! It was at this time that we noticed Kane’s eyes had glazed over a bit and he started swaying, almost as if dancing. Then he abruptly returned to us.

He’d had another vision. In his vision, he’d been dancing with a beautiful woman. She changed as they danced, with bruises appearing on her neck first, then deepening as her eyes bulged. Finally her lips turned blue and she’d dropped to the ground, a pile of dust, as the vision ended. Had this been Aiesha?

We may have been called to this house explicitly, presumably to face some evil entitye, but the house was also trying to talk to us. There were tragedies that had occurred here, some of them, quite possibly, fairly recently. How long had this house been cursed? And what precipitated it? Were the players we were seeing evil themselves, or also victims of some evil influence? Curses don’t just drop out of the sky, and ordinary people don’t wake up one day and decide to kill a family member.

It was time, we decided, to go upstairs. We’d explored everything on the ground floor. While some wanted to go see what was in the basement that I’d wanted to keep “Laurie” away from, we figured it more prudent to make sure nothing corporeal could be following us down.

Near the top of the stairs, we found a hallway with several doors. We opened the one nearest us and entered.

There appeared to be a child sized bed, and a toybox, filled with toys suitable for a young boy. While it’s not clear who may have occupied this room, it seems fair to assume it was at least a young boy. About half the people hear a mournful sobbing. It was sorrowful, but none of us had the reaction that Avia did. Our paladin ran into the fireplace and cowered, trembling. We just stared in utter surprise. After a short time she sheepishly rose from the fireplace, took command of her countenance again, and reported that for a short time she’d thought she was Aldrin. He had run in fear from his parents. His father was trying to kill his mother, and his mother was trying to kill him. He rememberes his father had bulging eyes.

This lent a little more credence to the possibility that Aldrin was already dead, but did little more to solve the mystery of the MisGivings.

We continued north in the hall and entered the room to the right. This should have been the room above the room downstairs that had had the odd stained glass pictures. We were not disappointed. This room had

1 glass of a pale ghostly scropion
1 glass of a gaunt man holding out his arms while a dozen bats hung from them
1 glass of a moth with a skull like pattern on his wings
1 glass of a tangle of dull green plants with bell-shaped flowers
1 glass of a young maiden sitting beside a well while a dog-sized spider dropped beside her

It was Kane who recognized these were all depictions of ingredients common to necromancy spells.

Sabin remarked that these could be used to create an apotheosis; that is, turning one’s self into a lich. And with that statement, some of the pieces fell into place. I suspect what we see here is the end result of an evil spell gone awry. One of Aldrin’s ancestors, perhaps, had dabbled in the dark arts and created something instead that consumed this home or this land.

We went across the hall into what turned out to be a gallery. Here hung several portraits. They were dusty and covered with cobwebs and some mold. Olithar began to uncover them. Upon one wall we found

  • a tall middleaged man – VOREL FOXGLOVE. Dark hair, blue eyes, blue noble clothes
  • a stern faced woman with flex of gray – KASANDRA FOXGLOVE. brunette, blue dress
  • a little girl – LAURIE FOXGLOVE.

All these were about the same size, and appear to have been done at about the same period in time. On the south wall, we found

  • TREVOR FOXGLOVE – tall, thin, narrow face, thin mustache
  • CYRLIE FOXGLOVE – long red hair, young woman
  • ALDRIN FOXGLOVE – a boy child
  • SENDELI FOXGLOVE – a girl child
  • ZEVA FOXGLOVE – a girl child

As Olithar uncovered Zeva’s portrait, which did seem especially obscured, a dramatic change occurred. The room immediately chilled, to the point where we could see our breaths. And all but two of the portraits turned into ghastly versions of themselves.

Kasanda and Laurie slumped into misshapen tumor-ridden corpses. Trevor displayed a long cut upon his throat, with blood running down his chest. Cyrlie blackened and charred, and appeared to develop many broken bones. Aldrin’s hair fell out, and his face contorted into a ghoul like appearance.

And worst of all, Vorel’s picture rapidly developed a spreading mold, filling the room cloudily with a muffled explosion.

Cyrlie and Sendeli were unaffected, and that suggested to us that to this day, they were still unaffected. We wondered if they were fated to die, or if by avoiding this place they had managed to dodge their fate.

Moments later the portraits were back to normal, although the air was still thick with a moldy dust. This was not an illusion like some of the other visions seemed to be; it was magic, and it had really happened. Every one of us saw it. And worse, Nolin and Rigel thought they saw a mild rash on their skin, although we saw nothing. We hoped it was an active imagination.

We exited the gallery and entered the west most room. This too seemed to be a bedroom, but contained naught but a desk. Olithar was inspecting the desk, which had a dark stain on it, when he picked up a fragment of wood and stared at it. For a moment he hesitated and before we could do anything, he put it back down.

He’d just had a vision where he’d picked up a dagger, not a piece of wood. In his mind, he had just killed the person he loved most, and wanted nothing more than to end his own life. Whether thru luck or fortitude we’ll never know, but Olithar was able to resist the urge and put the “dagger” down. Had he taken action against himself he probably would have hurt himself badly before we intervened. While the wood was not a dagger, it did have a dull point to it.

We theorized this was Trevor’s room, judging from the wound that appeared on his painting, and that he had killed his wife and burned her body before tossing it over the cliff. Then he’d killed himself.

We resolved to watch each other more closely as we explored. There was no telling when one of us might become a danger to ourselves or the rest of us.

We entered a room to the northeast, only to find the whole room caked with a spongy green layer of green-black mold. Many of us heard a child’s voice ask, “What’s that on your face mommy?” And with that sound, Sabin began clawing at his own face. He was able to hurt himself some before we restrained him and he came around. We theorized that Kasanda and Laurie had met their end this way.

We entered the room to the north. Like downstairs, it was a washroom.

Lastly, the room to the NW found a smashed bed and the walls and paintings all slashed. One painting was intact, but turned around. We heard a shrill angry woman’s voice say “What DO you get into in the damp below?” Rigel looked dizzy and staggered for a moment before charging at Avia, of all people. Her dagger caught a surprised Avia, who then easily subdued her until the moment passed. Rigel guiltily put away her dagger as Olithar turned the picture around. We recognized it as Aiesha. While there is some mold in this room, the dust here appears to have accumulated over months, perhaps, not years.

Having explored every room on this floor, it was time to go up again.

The stairs exited in a workroom, which appeared to have a leaky room because there were several pots and urns spread about to catch dripping water. There were woodworking and carpentry tools here, none in particularly good shape.

Entering the hallway, we found several storerooms and closets. Then we heard an unmistakable scream of horror and pain from the end of the hall.

The door on the right was locked, and seemed to be from where the scream had come. Rigel worked the lock while we heard a sobbing noise from inside. Finally, with Kane’s aid, Rigel was able to unlock the door. Avia charged inside.

This seemed to be a bedroom. It was cold and damp, and there was a mold encrusted chimney. A mirror angled toward the window, and sitting in front of the mirror was a woman gently rocking. She looked a bit like Aiesha might have looked if she were rotting. There was a bedsheet wrapped around her. The face may have been contorted in fury or fear.

Somebody, I think Avia, shattered the mirror, and she almost seemed to recover her senses. She screamed, “Aldrin, I can smell your fear! You’d be in my arms soon!” Then she let out a shriek which had Rigel running off and cowering in fear. We thought briefly about letting her lead us to Aldrin but too late — we were blocking the door and hallway and she’d already grabbed Nolin and given him a good squeeze. It actually hurt him quite badly; she was not all she seemed. I lit her up with a couple of magic missiles but she was focused on Nolin. She squeezed harder as Avia beat on her mightily. Between four of us beating on her, we eventually killed her, and none too soon for Nolin. And when Aiesha died, there was no corpse. Most of her sort of melted into the floor. Avia blessed the mess.

We examined the other rooms up there and the thing of note was that I did find two scrollcases in one of the rooms. In that same room, Olithar had another “experience”, wherein he strongly remembered feeling excited about his expectations for his life, but having to set all that on the shelf because he had to marry that harpy. Feelings of resentment, bitter disappointment, and regret filled him, but he again managed to gain control over them. Even so, the feeling of what could have been was strong to him.

The scrolls I picked up were [201] lightning bolt, and [202] keen edge.

The last room had two notable stained glass windows like its companions below. One was a dark-haired woman with pale skin and green eyes. She was wearing red and black clothing and wielding a jagged iron staff. The other had a hole in it that was covered by canvas, but it appeared slightly burned as though something had been set alight and gone through.

There was a trap door above us, and Nolin was able to repair the ropes and pulleys used to open it. Gaining access was anticlimatic. We climbed down and discussed our plans.

Before going down to the basemen, we thought we might rest up and regain our spells. Nobody thought it would be smart or clever to stay in the house, so we resolved to go up the road a mile or three. And that’s when we found a large number of birds had an uncharacteristic interest in us. And that’s where we came in, above.

And so it is during my watch that I am writing this entry. Despite the birds, we decided it was safer to sleep outside than in. And much to our relief and surprise, nothing unusual happened.

Oathday, 14 Neth

Bad news. The marks on Nolin and Rigel are now visible to us too, and they are beginning to show signs of tumors and pustules. They need attention ASAP. We need to resolve this so that we can get them back to town.

So we reentered the house, and headed for the downstairs. We find there a kitchen, but it too is in disrepair and exhibits molds and rat droppings. There are large cracks in the basement — about a foot wide — which would adequately explain the rats. And in fact, we were able to hear the movement of a bunch of what we can only assume were rats, coming to greet us. A flask of oil and a flame served to barricade the entrance, but that would only last for so long.

We quickly began exploring, and discovered one room with some beds and the pantry, which seemed filled with as many rats as we had found birds outside. We quickly closed that door.

We found a wine cellar, with naught but broken bottles. To the south, we finally found a hallway which led to a locked iron door. After much effort, Rigel and Kane were able to open it. This room would be beneath the rooms with stained glass windows in them, above us, and this one did not disappoint.

There was one window of a thin man drinking a green potion. And another of a thin man diseased and decayed as if dead for several weeks. Sabin offered that this had the look of an arcane workshop. There were three iron bird cages, each holding a corpse of a rat.

We have not yet found Aldrin or for that matter anything large an evil down here, but we’ve also not yet explored all the rooms. I hope this journal survives me if I do not.

Character: Olithar

Olithar’s Journal Entry for September

== Wealday, Neth 13, 4707; The Misgivings, Evening ==

After our break for lunch we continued to explore the house, and exploring the main hall in more detail revealed that the grotesque monkey head with the rope dangling from its mouth was magical. We also found that the bookcase beneath the circular stairs held tomes of the Foxglove family history as well as a few religious texts.

The last entry was made by Aldrin himself, sometime within the past year. He describes arriving at the house in order to prepare it for his fiance’, Iesha, who would be arriving soon.

The very first entry in the oldest book was dated 4620 and discusses the family’s search for a new home; and mentions that perhaps the “Brothers” would help.

To the south of the dining area was a large library with an extensive collection of books. Unfortunately most were suffering from damp, and had mildew growing on their spines and covers. Of more interest to us were the two chairs in the center of the room. One of the chairs lay on its side with a bright red silk scarf draped across it. The other faced the toppled chair, and between the two was a book on Varisian history. In the fireplace a stone bookend had been smashed.

As Kane entered the room he paused for a moment and turned very pale. He then described the vision, or memory that had enveloped him. He heard a woman’s scream and the scarf leaped through the air and around his throat. Suddenly Aldrin was before him, his face contorted in rage and his hands twisting the scarf tightly around Kane’s neck. And then the vision passed.

At the same time Avia had detected a cold, evil presence around Kane, but it too passed with the vision.

Kane left the room, clutching the scarf in his trembling hands.

[200] silk scarf (~100gp)

Rigel had discovered that the bookend in the fireplace, which was of the shape of a praying angel (sans one wing, which had broken off), had bits of bone, hair and blood smeared on one end.

Other than the impressive accumulation of books (albeit moldy), we found nothing more of interest.

A sitting room lay to the north of the dining area. A large sofa facing a stone fireplace with capering imps and birds carved into the mantel. The sofa was coated with a thick layer of white fungus, which we carefully avoided.

We pulled back the drapes, as we had done in the other rooms, to let in some light, and there before the fireplace, Rigel saw that the dust was churning about, as if invisible person were walking back and forth.

Avia said an evil presence was in the room as Trask bent down and set out caltrops in the path of our invisible host. The dust stopped moving, and at just that moment I heard a voice whisper, “Laurie.”

We decided to check out the door in the west wall when Trask became quite agitated and insisted that Rigel not open the door. He then demanded that she leave the house because it was not safe for her. “It is dangerous, and no daughter of mine…!” I cast Remove Fear upon Trask and he fell silent. After a moment he said he was concerned because he didn’t want “her” to go into the basement.

Another vision, or perhaps possession? Or maybe a warning.

The west door opened onto a hallway, and the first door on the right was a washroom, with a rusting metal tub set against the far wall. Something was scrabbling about in the tub: it was a hideous rat, half eaten away by some wasting disease, and its empty eye sockets rimmed with white fungus. Nolin put it out of its misery.

The next door off the hall was a conservatory, and a grand piano sat off to the side while a giant glass chandelier sat in ruins in the middle of the floor. The walls were paneled with rich dark wood, and frescoes of dancing figures decorated the lintels, but everything was coated with mold, and the floor boards of the dance floor were twisted and warped.

I pulled back the curtains and opened the double doors, which led back out to the drive along which we arrived. I then walked over to the piano and played a simple tune I was taught as a child back in Magnimar. While I am no musician, and my training on the piano was limited to one or two hours at the keyboard of the temple’s old upright, it was obvious that this ancient thing was in perfect tune!

We all then noticed that Kane was standing in the center of the room; his eyes vacant as he swayed from side to side. Suddenly he started and looked around at us as if trying to remember where he was.

As soon as I had begun to play on the piano he was swept into a dance with a beautiful woman. As they danced she changed as bruises formed on her pale neck, her eyes bulged and her lips turned blue. She then dropped to dust, leaving Kane back with the rest of us.

We made our way back through the small corridor and into the main hall and then across to the circular staircase, which we ascended.

The first room was obviously a child’s room, with a child sized bed, a toy box and a fireplace in the corner. The sound of a child crying wafted through the room, although I could not hear it.

The crying affected Avia, who hid in the fireplace as best she could and refused to speak to any of us. After a few moments she came out of the fireplace looking confused. She said thought she was Aldrin, frightened and running into the room to get away from his father, who had bulging eyes and a knife in one hand while chasing Aldrin’s mother about the house. His mother was also running around with a burning torch, trying to kill his father.

The room to the north had been a music room, with a few music stands scattered about and old harps, violins and flutes against the wall. The east wall was bowed, like the eastern end of the great hall below, and its windows were also of stained glass, depicting five scenes — one in each window.

  • A pale ghostly scorpion
  • A gaunt man holding our his arms while a dozen bats hung from them
  • A moth with strange skull like patterns on its wings
  • A tangle of dull green plants with bell shaped flowers
  • A young maiden sitting astride a well while a spider the size of a
    dog descended from a large web

Kane noticed right away that they represented the following:

  • scorpion venom
  • bats wings
  • death wing moth
  • belladonna
  • the heart of a maiden killed

Sabin commented that a lich based apthiousis was based on these ingredients.

Across the hall from the music room was a gallery of sorts. A stone fireplace crouched in the northwest corner, while cobweb covered portraits lined the north and south walls.

The north wall appeared to boast paintings from an older generation than those on the south, and on the frame beneath each painting was the name of the subject. The paintings on the north wall all appeared to have been painted at the same time in the same style (and no doubt by the same artists), just as those on the south, while different in age and style from those on the north, were done by one artist.

North wall portraits, from east to west:

1. Vorel Foxglove: a tall middle aged man, clean shaven with dark hair and blue noble clothes.

2. Kasanda Foxglove: a stern faced brunette with slightly graying hair, cut short, and wearing a blue dress.

3. Laurie Foxglove: a doe eyed little girl, much the same in the face as her mother, although less severe and stern.

South wall portraits, from east to west:

1. Trevor Foxglove: a tall and thin man with a narrow face and a long thin mustache.

2, Cyrlie Foxglove: a young woman with long red hair.

3. Aldrin Foxglove: a boy with the same foppish weak chin he sported as an adult.

4. Sendel Foxglove: a girl — obviously Aldrin’s sister.

5. Zeeva Foxglove: another sister.

Zeeva’s portrait was especially obscured with cobwebs, and when I brushed them aside the temperature in the room suddenly dropped, and our breaths came out as steamy puffs.

And with that all but two of the paintings underwent a change.

Vorel’s portrait turned to fungus, which spread about the room at a frightening rate, and, as we would soon learn, infested Nolin and Rigel with some sort of disease.

Kasanda and Laurie slumped into misshapen, tumor ridden forms.

A long cut opened in Trevor’s throat and blood washed down his chest.

Cyrlie blackened and charred and suddenly her arms, legs and back fractured in a dozen places.

Aldrin’s hair fell out as his face rotted and he transformed into a ghoul like creature.

Sendel and Zeeva remained unchanged, and we speculated that we had witnessed the end of each of the Foxglove family members as it had actually occurred. We assumed that Aldrin’s two sisters remained alive and well in Magnimar.

Moments later the room returned to as it was before, but the air was still heavy with the powdery mold that sprang from Vorel’s painting, which left us with little doubt that what we had experienced was real and not an illusion.

Nolin and Rigel both claimed that they had red spots on their arms, but the rest of us could not see them, nor could they see one another’s. We had them draw with ink where the spots were, and saw that both formed similar patterns.

Curing of diseases is currently beyond my skill, and we resolved to quickly explore the rest of the house and perhaps return to Sandpoint on the next day to seek a cure.

West of the gallery was a large bedroom, dusty and unkempt. A desk was set under the north window with a dark stain on its surface. Oddly enough there was no mold in this room.

I looked through the desk, hoping to find some document or clue about what happened here. Suddenly I became aware of a dagger and I picked it up and held it to my throat. I had just killed her! The woman I loved most in the world, and without her, what point was there in living? No. Wait. That wasn’t me, but I found that I had picked up a large sharp splinter of wood.

The papers in the desk indicate that it was Trevor’s room, and from the mental image I had just had and his painting’s transformation we deduced that Trevor burned his wife and threw her out a window onto the rocks below, and then returned to his bedroom where he slit his own throat.

Next we went to the far northeast bedroom — perhaps a guest room — caked with a thick layer of spongy dark green and blue mold. In here we heard a ghostly child’s voice ask, “What’s on your face mommy?”

Sabin started to claw at his face, and we had to restrain him until the fit left him. Poor Kasanda and Laurie ended this way. We carefully backed out from the room.

The washroom was off the north wall, with an iron tub perched upon a floor, sagging beneath its weight.

In the northwest corner was a large bedroom. The bed had been smashed and the mattress slashed, along with the walls and paintings. One painting was still intact, but turned around such that it faced the wall.

A voice shrieked high and piercing, “What do you do down in the damp below?!”

Rigel staggered about and then charged at Avia, screaming! Avia simply held her away with one arm until the evil mood passed.

I turned the painting around to reveal a portrait of Iesha Foxglove, wife of Aldrin, whom he murdered in a fit of rage.

We estimated that the damage done to the room was recent — within the past few months. And so it seems that each generation that lived in this house was destined for some great tragedy… or evil.

A door next to the bedroom led up a flight of stairs to the attic.

The first room was a work-room, with large holes in the roof and pots and urns strategically placed to catch the rain. Woodworking and carpentry tools line the shelves and rest on the work table.

The next four rooms were simple storage rooms holding furniture, bedding and all manner of household goods and supplies.

The southeast corner held a small bedroom and had a low ceiling slanting down to the east. From this room we heard a shriek from the north, and we ran out and over to a door at the end of the hall.

Rigel and Kane fumbled with the lock and Avia burst inside. It was a cold and damp bedroom, with a mold encrusted chimney in one corner and a mirror leaning up against the slimed bricks. There, huddled on the floor and wrapped in a sheet was a woman rocking back and forth and staring at the mirror.

It was Iesha. That is, it was at one time Iesha, although what it was now we were not sure. Avia said she was evil. No real surprise there.

Avia broke the mirror, and then the Iesha thing screamed out, “Aldrin, I can smell your fear! You’ll be in my arms soon.”

Someone suggested letting her go and then following her to find Aldrin (and perhaps provide an unlikely ally in the ensuing, but inevitable conflict), but we had stood in her/its way for too long and it was grasping at us. It had got a hold of Nolin and squeezed him with almost bone crushing strength.

We killed it, and if there was any part of Iesha still present, we ended her misery. The body rapidly decomposed as it lay there, and we covered the remains of the remains with a sheet.

Across the narrow hall from Iesha’s place was a locked door, and beyond the door was an interesting room filled with books, skulls with candles, scroll cases, statues, an empty birdcage, tribal fetishes and other odd but interesting paraphernalia.

A small desk stood squat before a fine leather chair, and as I sat I was overwhelmed with the sound of book pages rapidly turning, and my thoughts turned with excitement over planned expeditions and sea voyages to far away and exotic lands. But these were just pipe dreams now: all forsaken and lost because I had to settle down and marry that harpie!

Hmm, yes, well now I do hate it when that happens.

Two of the scroll cases held magical scrolls:

[201] scroll of lightening bolt
[202] scroll of keen edge

The books were all of tribal cultures, and the Ashanti tribes. A painting of a bull fight hung on the wall caught our eyes as being of high quality.

The final room was over the music room, which itself was over the dining area of the main hall, and this room shared the same bowed alcove and stain glass windows of its fellows. A desk and chair sat in the middle of the room.

  • Northern window: a dark haired woman with pale skin and large green eyes, wearing red and black clothing and wielding a jagged iron staff.

  • Southern window: the bottom has been broken and the hole covered by canvas, but in the top half we saw a handsome man wearing an ivory and jade crown.

The frame around the broken part of the window was burned, as if something (or someone) was set alight and pushed through.

On the desk was a battered telescope, and in the ceiling above was a trap door, secured by a series of ropes and pulleys. Nolin managed to get the contraption working and we climbed up and out onto the roof. It was late in the day and the sun was close to setting.

We climbed back down from the roof, and then down to the main hall on the ground floor. There we decided it would be prudent to walk the three miles back to the Lost Coast Road to make camp.

Once outside we noticed that in the clearing that had once housed the out buildings for the manor a vast flock of black birds or ravens had roosted. Only these birds had glowing red eyes, and they followed our every move.

Anytime we tried to walk away from the house they would drive us back.

We debated trying various tactics and spells to escape, but decided instead to conserve our magics in case we could not get away and had to camp here anyway.

We set camp between the main hall entry and the ballroom entry, beneath the bare limbs of a twisted tree. We expect trouble overnight, and despite the watch, sleep does not come easy.

== Oathday, Neth 14, 4707; The Misgivings, Morning ==

The night passed quietly and uneventful, if you can call having thousands of beady red glowing eyes staring at you uneventful.

Nolin and Rigel do not look good, and now everyone can see the angry red sores that have erupted from their skin. Kane and I used our healing skills to help as much as possible, but I fear we must escape this place and return to Sandpoint for any hope of a cure.

And apparently the only way to escape is to confront what awaits us in the basement. We’re fairly certain we will find Aldrin, or more precisely what Aldrin has become. No doubt this trap was of his creation, but he may have underestimated our abilities, or so we hope.

We scrambled down the regular stairs, leaving the mold stairway and the magical mystery monkey head as a last resort.

A kitchen. We were not expecting a kitchen, complete with table and fireplace.

The table top was covered with mold (imagine) and rat droppings (disgusting).

Disturbingly large and wide cracks, a foot wide each gape from the southwest wall. Kane has volunteered to go in if we run out of options.

As we explored the area the sound of chattering rats came from the cracks, but with some oil and a little fire we kept the diseased rodents at bay.

A door in the north end of the east wall opened onto a large room with bunks and a chair, but very little dust.

To the west a door opened onto a pantry and the rats. We quickly slammed the door shut before any could squeak through.

Next to the pantry was a door to wine cellar, filled with racks and broken bottles.

A door in the south end of the east wall opened onto a hallway, which turned north and ended in a locked iron door. Rigel and Kane worked hard to pick the lock, and when it opened we found ourselves in a chamber beneath the dining area above.

Of course the east end was bowed, and held two stained glass windows.

Sabin thought this was an arcane workshop at one time, and there is a work bench in the center of the room with three iron bird cages set upon it. In each cage is a diseased rat corpse.

It is too dark to see the images in the stained glass, and I will need to hold a brighter light source near them to see what they portray.

There are no other exists from this room than the way we came in, and now we are deciding what to do next.

Searching for secret doors is high on the list of priorities, but I fear we will need to tread the fiendish ways of a more ethereal stairway to find where Aldrin awaits us.

Postscript:

I have just completed a sketch of the basement floorplan, and noticed that we have not found a way into the area beneath the mold stairway.

foxglove_manor

foxglove_manor2

foxglove_manor3

foxglove_manorB

Character: Trask

The Unpublished and Extremely Condensed Journal of Trask Feltherup

== Toilday, Neth 12 ==

Today we discovered undead things were hanging around the insane asylum. Or possibly lunatics were bothering the undead, but it appeared more the former than the latter. Nevertheless, just to be safe, we bound up the insane guy we came to see and I put him uncomfortably on a horse and took him against his will to Sandpoint, where Nothing Odd Ever Happens. We told him we might be able to make him feel better there; that always quiets them for a while. Father Zantus always knows what to do with our less advantaged friends.

I had a good dinner in a soft bed. Wonder what the rest are doing?

== Wealday, Neth 13 ==

Got up early, took a refreshing shower, and felt clean and ready to meet the day. Ah, it’s good to be alive. Retrieved the horse and returned to the party.

Met up with the rest of the party, having left our patient in Sandpoint to heaven only knows what sort of horror of “treatments”. I told him with great sincerity, “you’re now in your happy place” and he stared at me in such a manner that I think he may have believed me, or wished me dead — the expressions are so similar.

And having returned, I see that sure enough, with the insane guy gone, all the undead are much more quiet. It may have just been a neighbor noise issue. I know he was annoying. Could he really been so disruptive so as to literally wake the dead? I suppose that phrase had to come from somewhere.

So, using the key one of the undead gave us, we went over to the Amityville Horror house and looked around. Our paladin gave the obligatory “I sense evil” soliloquy and then we looked around a bit while soaking up the ambience. We found darkness and severed animal heads and mold, but no walls with “redrum” written upon them. Once we were thoroughly disheartened, we took a break and wrote in our journals as our therapists have suggested we do whenever we’re feeling down.

Spirits raised, I’m now pumped to look at more depressing stuff.

Character: Olithar

Olithar’s Journal Entry for August

== Toilday, Neth 12, 4707; Hambly Farm, Night ==

The night passed with nothing untoward occurring at Ibor Thorn’s place, which was almost disappointing in that it resulted in no new information about the recent murders.

The sheriff had mentioned a scholar camped out at the Old Light who might be able to provide insight in the sihedron rune carved into the victims’ chests. There was also the mad man found wondering near the first murder site, and he was at the Saintly Haven of Respite, an asylum south of town.

We took leave from Prickleback Lane as Ibor left for the lumber mill and made our way to the ancient ruins which the locals called the “Old Light.” There in the midst of the rubble was a small camp, composed of a single tent, a fire ring, various crates containing tools and quite a few provisions. It looked quite comfortable, although I fear our arrival startled the scholar, who was softly snoring within his tent — no doubt recovering from the previous days’ toil… or the bottle of rum that lay empty just outside.

Our mysterious scholar proved to be Quink, the head of the Sages’ Guild, with whom we had an established business relationship. Quink was delighted at having visitors, and assumed we had come to talk about the ancient Thassilonian ruins. He quickly launched into his pet theory about them: conventional wisdom suggested that the Old Light was a beacon that warned away ships from the rocky shore, but Quink was sure it had been a massive flame thrower used to repel invading forces from the sea.

We mentioned the carving of the sihedron rune on the victims’ bodies, but he was unaware of any significance such a desecration would hold. He explained that originally the symbol represented the Seven Virtues, and only during the declining years of the Empire was it subverted to the Seven Sins.

When we mentioned that Aldern Foxglove was missing, Quink said that misfortune appeared to follow that family. Foxglove Manor, on the Lost Coast Road to the south of Sandpoint, was built before the city was founded, and the Foxglove family was wealthy and prominent, and remained so until the “Late Unpleasantness.”

Aldern’s mother was found dead on the rocks beneath the cliff upon which the manor perched, and his father apparently took his own life in an outbuilding nearby. The children, Aldern and his sisters, were found hiding within the house and were taken to Magnimar to be raised. The Manor has been called “The Misgivings” ever since.

Noting that Foxglove Manor and the asylum were in the same general area we left Quink to his research and began our journey south along the Lost Coast Road.

The grey funk that had enveloped Sandpoint over the past few days lifted and our journey south became a pleasant walk through wood, rolling hills and quaint farm-steads. before long a small sign directed us onto a narrow lane that wandered about the foot of a green mound and ended in a meadow beneath the eves of a forest.

Sitting in the meadow was the Saintly Haven of Respite, a large three story building of stone. At first glance the building could have been mistaken for a large manor house for the nearby farm lands, but closer inspection gave lie to the illusion. A few grimy windows peered out from the main floor, but the upper levels were blank walls; and the single heavy, iron bound wooden door made the place feel more like a prison than a hospital.

We knocked and waited. And waited until we knocked again. Presently the door creaked open a few inches and a dirty, pinched face man peered out and demanded to know what we wanted. We explained that we were here to see Graist, the lunatic from the first murder site. The man’s face twisted into a scowl and he replied that the doctor did not wish to be disturbed, and we would do well to be off.

Immediately we became suspicious and my friends fanned out around the building as I informed the unhelpful servant that we were here on official business of Sheriff Hemlock, and they would do well not to obstruct our investigation. He burped and wiped his face with a filthy calloused hand before opening the door and telling us to wait in the office while he fetched the doctor.

Naturally we did not sit passively but explored the first floor, but saw nothing untoward. The doctor appeared and while cleaner than his henchman, was no more polite nor any more helpful. He introduced himself as Erin Habe and said his patient was far too ill for visitors. We persisted and he granted a few of us a brief visit with the invalid.

Sabin, Avia and I followed the doctor up a flight of stairs to a large dim hallway with many narrow doors lining either side, and then across and up another flight to the top level.

There, huddled in the corner of a small room was a pale, gangrenous looking fellow bound in a straight jacket. He was sobbing and his greasy hair stuck out wildly like the straw in a scarecrow.

We could make out snatches of what he was muttering, over and over, “Razors! Teeth! Too many teeth?”

Sabin used a mind reading spell and picked up thoughts of being bound and forced to watch the carving of the bodies. He also picked out a name, the “Skinsaw Man”, as the identity of who or what had done this.

Graist suddenly realized he had visitors, and he quickly gazed first at Sabin and then I with a puzzled expression, but when his glance fell to Avia his eyes practically bulged from their sockets.

“You would come,” he raved, “He saved a space for you! You come to the misgivings and he will end the killings.”

The madman was filled with rage from what look to be unbridled jealousy over the thought of Avia and… the Skinsaw Man. He suddenly dropped to the floor writhing in agony as he screamed, “Me! Me! It should have been me!”

He then burst out of his straight jacket and lunged at Avia, but he was subdued before he could do any harm to us or himself. Doctor Habe confirmed what I had suspected: the man was in the final stages of “Ghoul Fever”. But his condition was curable, and I was puzzled at why Habe would allow anyone to suffer for so long when relief was half a day away in Sandpoint.

Meanwhile the rest of our group had taken up defensive positions outside the asylum (old habits die hard) when an old man came running up the lane, crying out something about scarecrows.

Rigel was able to calm him down and found that his name was Crump, and that he had just been by the Hambly farm where dire things were afoot. “People was dead, but they was still movin’, and eatin’ animals alive like what is unnatural. And some was hung up like scarecrows, and with the full moon tonight they’ll turn and he’ll be back!”

We had heard the commotion from inside, and came running out along with Habe, who knew Crump and said he wasn’t known for his flights of fancy. We could only assume the worse.

We first sent Trask to Sandpoint on horseback with the securely bound Graist in the hopes that Father Zantus would be able to cure him. Then Crump led us south, towards the Hambly farm where unnatural things awaited us.

Crump provided an informative narration about the lands through which we walked. For instance the nearby wood was “Whisper Wood, where gnomes and pixies play and lay traps for mortals foolish enough to go in. But the best land is right up agin them woods, and so that’s where the farms are.”

Fields of corn stretched away to the south, interlaced with paths and roads. According to Crump, scarecrows were set out about the fields, and some had come to life.

We made straight for the farm house and barn, where a scarecrow was perched outside on a post. The thing began to struggle wildly on its perch and sprang down, lurching towards us. Avia confirmed that it was evil, and we quickly dispatched it. It looked vaguely human, but with strongly ghoulish features.

Avia then detected half a dozen evil entities in the barn, and a single strong source of evil from the house. We silently barred the barn doors from the outside, and then rushed into the house from the front and side doors. A very large ghoul awaited within, and cried “Ghouls to me!” as we charged it.

We quickly killed the ghoul and found that it had a leather cord about its neck from which hung an iron key with an engraved symbol upon it: a flower surrounded by thorns. Avia recognized it as the Foxglove family herald.

[198] iron key on a cord with Foxglove family herald

On the floor, beside the ghoul, were the remains of a man with a seven sided star carved into his chest. A note next to the body read, “Take the fever into you, my love. It will be my first gift to you.”

Crump identified the body as having been farmer Hambly.

So was the ghoul with the key hung from its neck Foxglove, or was it his emissary and the key intended to go along with the message? At the time it seemed unclear, but now, as I pen this entry the latter seems far more likely.

Over at the barn there was a great deal of commotion as the ghouls we had trapped within banged against the doors to get out. We opened one of the doors and killed them one by one as they tumbled out.

Oddly enough the barn was built on top of old stone work that looked like the top of a giant helmed head.

We then set about the gruesome task of walking the roads through the fields and checking on each scarecrow. When we encountered ghouls we killed them.

On the way back to the house we found a small boy hiding in the fields, whom we put in the care of Crump, who was ready to head back to his farm now that the ghoul infestation was under control.

We returned to Hambly’s house where a search uncovered a small cash of gold coins in a strong box beneath the floor boards, and a key to the box on Hambly’s body. We kept them to return to his next of kin.

With dusk drawing nigh we set up camp in the farm yard.

I am spending the hours of my watch making this entry, as wolves howl from the nearby wood. It would be a tranquil scene, but for the mayhem and carnage of the past few days.

== Wealday, Neth 13, 4707; The Misgivings, Noon ==

In the morning we returned to the Lost Coast Road, where we met up with Trask who was returning from Sandpoint. We continued south and crossed the Foxglove River through covered bridge, where we turned west.

The way had once been a grand and stately avenue lined with trees on either side, but had been neglected an disused for decades. Weeds grew thick beneath the tangled half dead limbs of the trees, cutting off the view and making it feel stuffy, despite the cool weather.

Following the twisty road some three miles further we came upon the glowering hulk that was Foxglove Manor — it gave off both a sad and sinister air, and we realized why the locals all called it “The Misgivings.”

An irregular low tumble of stone was all that remained of the out-buildings that crouched in a clearing before the house. The drive led past this and up to the house itself: a tall and ungainly thing perched right at the edge of the cliff — as if it too meant to cast itself upon the rocky shore far below.

The grounds were on a narrow, high headland that jutted east into a crescent shaped bay that had cut back into the mainland. Thorny brambles choked the hanful of trees barely clinging to life, and the wind came in from the sea in a raging shriek, cold and bitter.

We searched the site of the service buildings first, but found nothing but scorched stone and bits of charred wood. A well sat at one end, and sickly looking ravens hopped about the place, staring at us with their beady black eyes, and occasionally objecting to our presence with croaking caws of reproach.

The house. That forlorn structure, crooked, sagging and neglected waited for us. And I mean just that: it felt as if the thing were alive and waiting for us, but whether with malice, benign intent, or total indifference I could not say.

We walked about it, peering into windows and trying to get a feel for the layout within. But the windows were clouded with grime and most were blocked by heavy curtains. On the east side the house crept to within inches of a precipitous drop of some 300 feet.

Looking at one another we realized we had nothing left to do but enter the house. Rigel did her usual checks for traps at the front doors and used the key to unlock them. The wooden floor stretched away from us into the gloom.

As we walked into the grand hallway Nolin said the place reeked strongly of burning wood, but nobody else noticed it, and a few moments later Nolin reported that the smell had gone. We all heard the creaking as the wind hammered on the house. And we all could smell the dank smell of mouldering wood and plaster.

The wide hallway ran the entire length of the house and a massive, rotting stuffed manticore faced the entrance. Large stone fireplaces lined this part of the hall, and heavy blue curtains covered the windows and gave the place a dusky feel. The lintels over the doors boasted freezes of gargoyles and angels, and a circular staircase wound tightly up and out of sight in the southern wall.

Avia said the place was evil. Not any particular part of the house, but the house itself, as if evil had soaked into the walls, floors and ceiling.

I wandered further in and past the stairway I found a door which opened into a drawing room. I pulled aside the curtain to let in some light when just for a moment I saw the likeness of a beautiful woman, face forlorn, reflected in the glass.

Back out in the middle section of the hall an antique monkey head was mounted on the wall, and a bell pull ran out from its gaping mouth. The floor was covered with a tattered rug, which barely concealed a large patch of mold. I pulled away the rug and revealed a large swirling pattern of blue, green and black mold growing in the floor boards.

Concentrating on the swirling pattern I realized that it depicted a spiral stair case leading down, with skulls and bones littering the steps. I quickly stepped back from the moldy image and warned my companions of what I saw.

I then opened the door in the southern wall to what looked like a closet and found regular stairs leading up. To the north a similar door opened to stairs leading down.

The eastern end of the hall bowed out like the prow of a ship. A large mahogany table with high back chairs filled this end, and another pair of fireplaces to the north and south lined the room. A great chandelier covered in dust and draped with cobwebs hung over the table.

The real interest of the hall, however, was the bank of stained glass windows in the eastern wall. Each depicted a stylized monster pouring out like smoke from a seven sided box with spiky runes. Looking closer we realized that the runes were necromantic and that the monsters were being pulled into the box, with snarling faces.

One window depicted a gnarled and tangled tree with a face.

The next an immense hooked beak bird with blue and gold plumage.

The next a winged centaur like creature with a lion’s body and a woman’s torso.

The last window showed a blue squid like creature with evil red eyes.

As we gazed at the windows my companions all heard the sound of sobbing coming from upstairs, but I heard nothing.

I found it odd that these intricate stained glass windows had been placed in the eastern wall: the wall that overlooked the bay and must provide an amazing view. And yet the Foxgloves chose to block out the view in favor of… well, some rather tacky glassware.

There are stairs to explore, both up and down, and more doors on this level to open; but we’ve taken a moment to think about what it is we came here for, and I have taken this opportunity to enter the morning’s events and review my entries from the past few days.

Postscript, or things we know and things we suspect:

  • We suspect Aldrin Foxglove of being behind the murders in Sandpoint and the ghoul fever outbreak in the farmlands to the west of here. The key to the manor taken from the ghoul along with the accompanying note makes it seem obvious that either Foxglove is responsible, or someone wants us to think he is.
  • Our presence is expected here at Foxglove Manor, and we should expect a trap.
  • Recall the words of the lunatic Graist spoken to Avia: “You come to the MISGIVINGS and he will end the killings.”
  • Also recall the name Sabin pulled from Graist’s mind: Skinsaw Man.
  • If this is how Foxglove Manor was built, then they were odd people when they arrived here some 80 years ago.

assylum

foxglove_manor