== Fireday, Pharast 7, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Evening ==

Night has finally fallen on this troubled day, and about us on the shore of the swollen Skull River survivors huddle in damp blankets. Smokey fires give off little heat and even less comfort after misfortune had piled upon misfortune to erase Turtleback Ferry from the map.

At least there are survivors — and far more than there might have been had the day gone much worse.

Hours before, as Kane and I watched the waters rising — threatening the sick and infirm that sought refuge in the beleaguered cathedral — we knew we had to act fast to save those who remained trapped in the drowning town.

Making judicious use of Water Breathing and Water Walking spells we recruited two young men to help us form a raft from the temple pews. The pews would help us float the weak to the relative safety of the shore, but of course they were in the flooded lower level of the cathedral. After about an hour we managed to manhandle four benches out to the front doors when we spied something wicked swimming straight at the cathedral.

A huge a snake like head with a gaping maw full of needle teeth rose up from the water as a dozen or more fanged tentacles wriggled about it menacingly.

I yelled to those within the cathedral to get out, but Kane stood his ground between the beast and cathedral as it thrust its ugly face towards us and belched forth a noxious cloud of greasy black vapor.

For perhaps half a minute I was in a state of utter panic and confusion, with no idea what was going on about me. I drew my knife and attacked the nearest thing near me, which always turned out to be Kane. I am not a fighter, and while I can scrape by in combat if hard pressed, I tend to leave the martial arts to those better suited for it. It was just as well, because to my lasting shame I actually injured my friend and ally when he was most in need of assistance.

All of this time the creature savagely tore away at the cathedral, attacking it with a cold deadly purpose, heedless of the helpless souls within.

Kane managed to dance away from me, and after a moment or two more I came to my senses. Seeing that Kane was only moderately wounded (by my own hand!) we quickly forced ten people onto one of the pews floating nearby and dragged it away to the western shore.

Of our two helpers I saw no sign, and learned later that they had fled as soon as the beast had risen from the waters.

As we turned to head back to rescue more, we saw the monster raise up to an incredible height and crash down upon the cathedral walls that were still standing, smashing them to stone dust. What was left of the structure disintegrated in the rushing waters, taking with it the bodies of those who had perished within.

The creature then screamed up to the rain laden clouds, as if in joy at what it had done, and slithered away down river.

And with that the rain lessened before stopping altogether.

We built a small fire, which heartened those we rescued, who gathered about the dismal smoking thing.

I calmed the horse upon which we had returned to town and rode about the area looking for other townsfolk who had survived. And so they began to return, all alone or in twos, or gathered together in bands. They came to our small camp fire, and about it their sense of community regrouped and reasserted itself.

Many came back with provisions which they had rescued from the flood, and some rode in on the horses they had taken at the outset of the catastrophe. My own horse, Butters, was among them, along with Trask’s trusty steed.

Hasty shelters were erected, and trees felled to provide fuel for more fires and longer term housing. The people of Turtleback Ferry are a resilient lot, and they voiced their determination to rebuild. As if to prove it they had in mind to start rebuilding right away.

In the midst of this hustle and bustle a stranger walked in from the west. His clothes were stained from days of hard travel, and he looked about the remnants of Turtleback Ferry as if it were no great thing to one as world weary as he.

He made his way over to Kane and I and introduced himself as a messenger from Magnimar. He expressed his condolences for the loss of the Black Arrows, but said that rumor of war kept Magnimar from sending any aid. As a reward for driving Lucretia and the ogres from Fort Rannick, our reward was the fort itself. He handed over a deed, signed by the Lord Mayor himself, and then walked over to the nearest fire and sat down.

Well, I can certainly see why they sent this somber fellow with such grim news and such a dubious reward as a twice sacked fort.

Townsfolk continued to trickle in from the woods as the day passed noon and our companions trudging on foot from Fort Rannick arrived. Pausing for a brief rest and a few spells to restore their vigor we began to discuss our next course of action, while Nolin set out to retrieve the rest of our horses.

The locals had no desire to journey to the fort, where shelter, food and safety awaited.

While talking with them we heard many curses and exclamations of horror about “Black Maga” — their name for the thing that had destroyed the cathedral. They shared many stories about the creature — some more believable than others — and said it served Lamashtu.

Sabin quickly pulled out a copy of Lamashtu’s Bestiary that my companions acquired during their adventures in Sandpoint, and found the pertinent entry.

Mothers of Oblivion. They are the favorite servants of Lamashtu, and have an unholy and insatiable hatred for all things uncorrupt. They can control weather, and as Outsiders can move through the planes (a warning was scribbled in the margins about not using teleportation magics near them).

Lovely. Local folk lore held that one of these things had been lurking in the depths of The Storval Deep. I can’t wait to tell the family about what has been hiding practically in our back yard all of this time.

We have decided that in the morning we will head up to the dam and deal with the threat of another, more catastrophic breach.

Nolin has returned with the rest of our horses (and a few stragglers), and so we will make good time on our travels tomorrow.

== Starday, Pharast 8, 4708; Turtleback Ferry; Morning ==

There was some good news this morning: the town’s cleric survived Black Maga’s destruction of the temple, and managed to save another parishioner along with himself. They plunged into the flood waters and spent most of the night making their way back. The cleric shook his head when we asked him what he knew about Black Maga, and said it was untouchable by godly magic.

We also found Malin Shreed, the mayor of Turtleback Ferry, and he insisted that the town would be rebuilt, and urged us to hasten to the dam to stop any risk of further flooding.

And so we are mounting up and heading back north.

== Starday, Pharast 8, 4708; Fort Rannick; Noon ==

We paused briefly at the fort to update our trio of rangers on the happenings in town. We urged them to continue to hold the fort while we proceeded on to the dam to take on the giants.

== Starday, Pharast 8, 4708; Skull’s Crossing; Late afternoon ==

The dam at Skull’s Crossing is another of those ancient Thassilonian works of engineering that grace the continent. Being from the Storval Plataea my family passed down its own tales of the Storval Deep and the massive work of stone that held back those icy deep blue waters.

And yet those legends do not do the mighty structure justice, and it pains me to see the recent damage wrecked upon it by the agents of Lucretia. Those who are incapable of creating such marvels can still destroy them.

We arrived in the thickening gloom of a building storm as we peered up at the wall of rock. Giant skulls were set in the stone, with water pouring out their gaping jaws. A huge fissure had been smashed from the top of the dam down through one of the skulls, and it was through here that the initial flood waters had spilled the day before.

Half a dozen hulking figures moved about the top of the dam, and the dim sound of stone crashing against stone echoed down to us. Even as we watched a fat raindrop splashed on the ground nearby, with many more of its siblings following in close pursuit.

A set of uneven steps, now wet and slick with rain, clung to the western wall of the rocky chasm, leading up towards the top of the dam. Rigel and Kane crept up the stairs while Trask and I huddled at the base, ready to offer magical aid if needed.

Skulls of every kind lined the stairway, each marked with a skull-like rune. Rigel and Kane soon returned with news that the stairs ended in a dark gaping hole in the side of the cliff, and that it would be best if we made our way through the tunnel in mass.

The others joined us, and Sabin recognized the rune carved into the skulls as belonging to the Skull Taker tribe of trolls. Trolls! Perhaps an easier foe than giants, but still a tough nut to crack. It is said that trolls quickly heal from normals wounds, no matter how lethal.

Trask slipped on the slick stone work and slid down some 60 feet, but Kane tended to his injuries and we were soon all grouped at the top of the stairs.

A pungent stench wafted out from cave entrance of sweat mixed with something else… something unpleasant.

At the end of a dim tunnel was a wall 15 feet high, and above that a little more light and the sound of something heavy moving about.

I quietly fashioned a set of stone steps leading up via a Stone Shape spell and Sabin crept up and peered over. An ettin stood guard with a large flail in either hand. It peered down at Sabin with its dull, stupid eyes set in both of its heads and said, “You not be here!”

A brief conversation ensued where we it proudly announced that it was the guard for the Skull Takers, and after we offered the ettin a bribe, it held a hot debate with itself about how it had gotten into trouble for taking bribes before. Apparently one of the heads was more susceptible to this sort of thing than the other, but unfortunately it was not the dominant head, and so I cast Silence about it before it could bellow out a warning to the trolls beyond.

It was sad, really, at how quickly it fell. I almost felt sorry for it. Almost.

Past the ettin was a sleeping alcove, in which we found a small cache of items it had no doubt looted over its sad little life.

693 gold pieces
1240 silver pieces
[500] 6 peals in a velvet pouch
[501] phylactery of positive channeling
[502] ivory scroll tube with jade
[503] scroll: Cone of Cold, Hold Monster, Telekinesis

Both Kane and I eyed the phylactery with great intent, and he graciously allowed me to wear it. The next time I am able to train I will focus on learning a new ability — a feat that will enable me to chanel energy more often each day — and so make better use of this device.

We scrambled up another shelf and found ourselves at the far cave entrance that lead out onto the top of the dam. Halfway across the dam was a tower in the shape of several giant skulls, and between us and the tower were half a dozen ogres.

One of the ogres was larger than the others, and appeared to be the foreman in charge of the others, who were smashing rocks against the dam. They looked weary, as if they had been forced to work for a long time with little rest and less food.

One fireball, courtesy of Trask, and a few arrows later and they all lay dead.

We cautiously approached the tower and peered in through the large windows. The interior was coated with matts of green ropey fungus, and we carefully climbed inside.

Avia detected four evil things hiding behind a curtain of the fungus, as four trolls stepped out and attacked.

We killed them, some more than once, and noted that the use of Trask’s Burning Sphere limited their ability to regenerate from injury. The lesson learned was that fire was good, and we needed to employ it whenever we fought these fell creatures.

We’ve rested only for a moment and are ready to move on.