The Lidu Diaries (a player's prospective of the STAP)


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The Exchange RPG Superstar 2010 Top 32

<OT> I THOUGHT it was baseball you played. Couldn't remember so I just wrote sport! </OT> :)

Sovereign Court

Oh, I umpire baseball. Most players only see 2 games a week, me, I usually see 2 games a night! I've been umpiring for 17 years now and I'm very much in demand. If I wanted I could be working seven days a week five hours a night but thankfully I usually only work 4-5 nights with most of the weekends off. Playoffs are starting soon though and that will likely mean my weekends will be shot till September.

After that it's only collage and high school baseball thankfully.

Sovereign Court

alright, it's late, I'm tiered, and I'm going to have no time to work on this tomorrow . . .

Here comes a completely unedited Lidu entry. Beware of typos.


Something lurked in the Sea Wyvern, something vile and slimy, like an insidious demon slug under a rotting plank. It had claimed our ship as its new home but today we had something to say about that . . .

Yesterday we’d watched our ship carefully from the tree line. An elasmosaurus was seen around the boat with alarming frequency. It seemed unlikely that it was living in the hull as the hole had been too small but it was possible that there was some cave in the reef that the thing called home. Normally I understood that these beasts preferred deeper water but obviously something kept drawing it to our ship. It seemed suspicious. The others were egger to investigate, but I had used most of my most powerful magic simply transporting everyone to the beach, and Amella (with the Blue Nixie) wouldn’t be arriving till today or tomorrow. I saw no reason to move too soon.

After a hearty breakfast we moved down to the beach. Buffy cast water walk on all the groundlings and I activated my ring of invisibility before flying off to investigate. I activated my boots of levitation as I flew so that I might safely hover (where ever) high above the ship. The rough surf showed no signs of the dinosaur so I decided to fly down to the ship and inspect the damage. I hadn’t the opportunity before. Kale, Kiki, James, and Orlani had visited the ship and delivered their verdict, but now I had a chance to inspect the devastation first hand. I flew around to the gaping hole and started surveying the damages . . . but something seemed wrong . . . it took a moment for my mind to piece together exactly what . . .

Outside the ragged hole it seemed that all the clutter, like the drift wood and loose boards, had been washed away, and inside the ship’s hold crates were neatly stacked to the side. In fact everything inside was tidy. Not far from the hole I spied some broken shells. It slowly dawned on me that something was living in our ship. At first I thought it might have been a survivor, someone that we’d somehow not counted among the dead, and for a brief moment I almost called out to tell them that they’d be rescued . . . then I remember Lavinia’s warnings:

“Tristan you’ll be careful won’t you?” She’d asked.

“Oh course, careful is almost my middle name, Tristan Careful Lidu,” I mused, “but don’t worry Lavinia, we’re only going to fix a boat. That’s not exactly high adventure.”

“But this is a dangerous island,” Lavinia said, “and I’ve heard that shipwrecks are quickly inhabited by all manner of horrid creature. You will be careful won’t you? You’ll approach with caution?”
“Of course,” I said, “I can’t even remember the last time I did something reckless . . .”

“The Troglodytes?” Lavinia prompted, a hint of anger or annoyance in her voice, “Yesterday?”

“Oh Lavinia,” I laughed, “This again? We were over this! They were only troglodytes.”

Lavinia suddenly seized me by my collar, which was very uncustomary of her, she was a bit stronger than me (must have been all that sword work), and she quickly hauled me around to face her, “Tristan,” she said with her eyes locked into mine, a hit of anger in her voice, “I want you to promise me that you’ll be very careful.”

“Fine!” I snapped, not particularly pleased with this rough treatment.

“No,” she snarled, “promise me!”

I looked into her eyes and something told me that I wasn’t going to leave without making the silly promise. You’d think I was Kiki or something.

“Fine, I promise to be careful,” I said, “but I don’t like being man handled. If you were anyone else I’d have very quickly shown you that I’m not a lady to be trifled with!”

“You can act like quite the child at times,” Lavinia growled.

“I could level this town!” I snapped, thinking that she wasn’t taking me seriously, “I’m not that young woman you summoned to your house all those months ago! I’m ten times more powerful . . .”

“Seriously,” she snarled, “I have half a mind to take you over my knee . . .”

“Eep!” I gasped as I quickly D-doored away. I wasn’t about to stay around for that sort of thing! Especially with the elections so looming so close.

Lavinia’s warning made me think though. What proof did I have that a survivor was living in the boat? There were likely still a few dry rations aboard the boat but were did these shells come from? High tide would wash them away. An intelligent creature had clearly rearranged the cargo, I naturally assumed that it meant human, but as I scanned the waterline it occurred to me that whoever was living here would need to be a strong swimmer to contend with the powerful tide that continually pounded the reef . . . and then there was the matter of the elasmosaurus. I’d thought that the dinosaur lived near the reef . . . but we’d seen no sign of him the day of the tragedy . . . what if whoever had moved into our ship also brought the dinosaur with them . . .

I took to the air, I was about to shout my warnings, when suddenly the dinosaur erupted from the water beneath my companion’s feet. The beast was ferocious, but so were we, and given time we would have bested the beast . . . suddenly a massive shark erupted from the water and started attacking my companions as well. This wasn’t a random encounter . . . unless I missed my guess someone or something had summoned it. Two can play at that game I thought . . .

I called forth my own giant shark like thing . . . and after it appeared, I called forth another, then some regular sized sharks. Soon the water was crimson and white around the Sea Wyvern. Those normal sharks were no match for my pseudonatural ones. My companions began scaling the ship while I commanded my horrors to circle the ship and kill anything that should try to flee . . .

“I can hear something casting below deck!” Kiki called.

I quickly threw down some of the ropes to aid in the boarding (some of our group are not the best climbers) then I flew down to investigate. The lower decks of the Sea Wyvern were dark. Without my torch every shadow looked dark and menacing. What horrible sea creature was living in our ship? I was almost certain that it was a sea creature now, too many clues pointed to that, but as of yet I wasn’t sure exactly what I was dealing with. My mind recalled bullywugs, Sahuagin, water trolls, but little would have prepared me for what I discovered . . .

In the hull of the Wyvern, where the water was waste deep and the sun had never shone something stirred. It must have sensed the door opening as it rose to greet me. In its humanoid hands it gripped a blade made of angry red flame and shadows danced across its puke green bulbous body. Its head, which I first hoped was an imagination of my low light sensory deprivation, seemed to resemble dread Cthulhu, for its mouth was surrounded with tentacles. The resemblance was short lived . . . I caught a glimpse of its eyes in the dark, and was disappointed to see the wall eyed glare of a common carp. The water rippled around its body and I caught the hint of more tentacles under the surface. Its body seemed to stretch out in the darkness, searching for the intruder that it’s fishy eyes couldn’t see . . .

Suddenly Kale splashed down in the hold beside me.

“It’s in the Hold!” Kale hollered up to the others, then he turned to our uninvited guest, “All right you freak get off our ship!” he growled. Wisely he waited for some support to arrive before lunging forward. Buffy’s ion stone quickly lit up the hold. With his opponent now completely in view Kale chose an overhand swing, perhaps hopping to finish the fight quickly, but his two handed chop seemed to deflect off of the monster’s rubbery skin. Then beast retaliated. The monster was like a windmill as arms and claws, tentacles, flame blade, and mouth all lashed out at Kale, and then the creature pulled him under the water. I quickly cast haste on my companions. Hopefully one of them could rescue Kale.

Kiki opened fire as Buffy and James circled the thing, even with my spell making them move twice as fast, it was slow moving through the thigh deep water. It was nearly up to Kiki’s neck! Lucky she didn’t need to climb all the way down the ladder to fire.

Kale resurfaced as the monster was forced to retreat. Seeing my opportunity I summoned an orb of cold, using all of my tricks, and blasted the vicious sea creature. To my surprise he didn’t drop. He looked up at me and for a moment I felt his mind try to invade mine. A pathetic and foolish attempt, between Hop-Toy, my summons, and my own manic and obsessive musing, the squid faced fool could scarcely make himself heard over the perpetual chorus. I laughed at his dismal effort and the beast, which had showed a rudimentary intelligence up to this point, suddenly lunged for me. Four blades sunk into his body, Buffy’s mace bounced resoundingly off its head, and Churtle’s spiked chain coiled around its neck causing its head to snap sharply to one side. The beast collapsed and started violently twitching. It would be nearly an hour before the thing finally lay still in death.

The Sea Wyvern was ours again and only Kale suffered any serious wounds. The mission was an outstanding success on all levels. Thankfully the ship seemed pretty much as we’d left it. We were happy to discover that much of the supplies that Lavinia needed were still in excellent shape. Our visitor also left us with some trinkets, including a ring, an ioun stone, and an amulet that Buffy was quick to snatch up. I’m sure we’ll be able to put these items to good use.

Amella and the Blue Nixie arrived sometime in the late afternoon and we soon began the long process of repairing the Sea Wyvern. Between Amella, Orlani, and Dranys (the carpenter from Farshore) we had more than enough expertise to repair the ship, and with those three supervising our work crews would be in good hands. After supper I asked the three how long they figured the process would take.

“Best possibility?” Amella asked, “we can get her patched up in three days, if we run into problems? Maybe a week, possibly more.”

“Is there anything we need from Sasserine?” I asked, “It’s not likely I’ll be much use here . . .”

“Someone has to guard the ships,” Kale said, “We can’t risk letting you go off gallivanting . . .”

“Fine,” I said, my words must have been as cold as one of my orbs of cold as James attempted to suppress an involuntary shiver, “My research can wait. We’ll guard the ship. I’m sure the crew will appreciate us watching over them for the next few days.”

“There’re all sorts of dangerous creatures about,” Kale continued, “we should set up watches again . . .”

“Absolutely,” I said glaring at Kale, “my time couldn’t be better spent.”

“It’s not a glorious job but . . .” Kale allowed the sentence to trail off.

“But what?” I asked.

“Somebody has to do it . . . owe!” Kale said looking to James (who I guess must have kicked him under the table).

“Yes,” I said, “and that someone is me is it?”

“We take turns . . . owe!”

“Right,” I snapped, “I’ll be in my room, ladies feel free to join me if you like, I’m sure you gentlemen can find accommodations on your own?”

I summoned my secure shelter on the deck of the Sea Wyvern. Despite the slope of the ship the shelter itself was completely level. It was an interesting feature of the magic which I’d often suspected but never had the chance to verify. Too bad the next few days would be a complete waste of time.

“I wonder if your rage is completely biological or not,” the stupid monkey head had the audacity to ask as I stepped into the shelter, “I understand that the female body goes through these changes sometimes with the cycles of the moons but . . .”

I reached into my haversack and threw the head across the room.

“Weee! Ouch!” The bodiless head said as it bounced off the wall, “Wow, I think this fleshy concept of pain is wonderful! Throw me again!”

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“Have we forgotten all formality?” he asked, I drew my knife, “I’ll let it slide this time. I’m only asking for acknowledgement. I’d like to think that you don’t simply seem me as another pretty face . . .”

“I’ll ask you one more time Chimpman,” I said, “what do you want . . .”

“Funny you should mention time,” the ape grinned, “notice anything?”

I looked about the room; suddenly it occurred to me that the entity hadn’t pulled me out of time to talk to me, “How?” I asked.

“Your mind is slowly attuning itself,” it said, “as you become more and more aware of the true nature of the universe it becomes easier for me to reach into your world.”

“So the others might soon be able to hear you?” I asked.

“Doubtful,” the head said with a roll of its eyes, “mortals see and hear what they want to see and hear. This is why your kind is so susceptible to illusions. Your lazy brains don’t want to accept the possibility of refracted light or . . .”

“So there’s still just the possibility that you’re a figment of my imagination as no one can verify your existence.”

“Nobody can verify your existence if you look at it that way. Everyone might just be a figment of your imagination.”

“I’m not concerned if I exist or not,” I said walking over and picking up the head, “I’m not a philosopher or an illusionist. I know that this head exists because I can touch it and feel it. Unfortunately me and Hop-Toy are the only ones that can hear you talk, and I’m beginning to fear that we may be the only ones to see you move . . . of your own accord . . .”

“It is quite possible that you are imagining everything. That your insanity has spread across that link which you share with your familiar . . . or your need to have someone else acknowledge my existence is so great that you’ve somehow pressured his tiny mind . . .”

“You enjoy this don’t you?”

“Enjoy what?” Kiki asked behind me. I jumped. I didn’t even hear her enter.

“Of course,” Chimpman said, “it’s like trying to prove the existence of blue to a blind man.”

“Are you pretending that head is Kale?” Kiki asked.

“No,” I said slipping the head back into the haversack, “but I’m sure it has about the same density.”

“Kale can be thick sometimes,” Kiki said nodding, “but if something does go wrong . . .”

“Look,” I said sitting down on one of the bunks, Kiki climbed up beside me, “I’d never leave you guys if I thought there was any real danger. Those sea creatures were nasty but I think you guys could have handled it without my help. And it was living out here. I’m no expert on the ecology of the Isle of Dread, but that likely means that it wasn’t worried about something coming by and disturbing it. I can’t imagine large predators just randomly roaming the coast to attack things, I’d think that they’d follow some sort of migration, and I’m guessing that if tentacle face felt safe camping out in our ship, we’ll probably be safe for a few more days. Tell you what though, if I’m wrong, and you do need my help before the ship is repaired I’ll buy you a drink at the last coconut.”

“Deal!” Kiki said. It was a bet with no downside I realized later, but I didn’t think I was going to have to worry about spending my coins on alcohol.

Now begins the wait,
Cthulhu dreams


Just finished reading this enormous story. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Very friendly read, good character development, fun meta-crunch. All in all, one of the better stories on these boards. Keep it coming!


I could have sworn I left a post days ago...

Anyway.

Lavinia vs. Tristan: Go Lavinia! Anyone who makes heroes go "eep!" is full of win, simple fact.

"WEEEEEE!...Throw me again!" Chimpman and Hop-toy have the bulk of the best lines IMHO. ^_^

Sovereign Court

Donny_the_DM wrote:

Just finished reading this enormous story. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Very friendly read, good character development, fun meta-crunch. All in all, one of the better stories on these boards. Keep it coming!

Thanks Donny! I'll certainly try!

fey'Dorian wrote:

I could have sworn I left a post days ago...

Anyway.

Lavinia vs. Tristan: Go Lavinia! Anyone who makes heroes go "eep!" is full of win, simple fact.

"WEEEEEE!...Throw me again!" Chimpman and Hop-toy have the bulk of the best lines IMHO. ^_^

:)

I think Lavinia is the only one that can get away with bossing Tristan around at this point. If Kale tried a stunt like this he might not get his hands back. Tristan totally deserved it of course . . . she was deliberately being a pain, I think she rather liked the concern Lavinia was suddenly giving her and she was milking it for all it was worth . . . unfortunately for Tristan it may have back fired slightly :D

Hop-Toy, I've said before and I'll say it again, is Tristan's Jiminy Cricket. Chimpman on the other hand is something else . . . while Hop-Toy often represents Tristan's voice of reason I fear Chimpman might be slowly pushing her over the brink. They do get good lines though, and seeing as they're both voices that only Tristan can hear they do have an unfair monopoly on Tristan's attention, and thus get more lines on average then most of the PCs!

Scarab Sages

"" wrote:
“Have we forgotten all formality?” he asked, I drew my knife, “I’ll let it slide this time. I’m only asking for acknowledgement. I’d like to think that you don’t simply seem me as another pretty face . . .”

hehe... I still got it, baby ;)

Guy Humual wrote:


Hop-Toy, I've said before and I'll say it again, is Tristan's Jiminy Cricket. Chimpman on the other hand is something else . . . while Hop-Toy often represents Tristan's voice of reason I fear Chimpman might be slowly pushing her over the brink. They do get good lines though, and seeing as they're both voices that only Tristan can hear they do have an unfair monopoly on Tristan's attention, and thus get more lines on average then most of the PCs!

Muuhaahahahaha <hack> <cough> I've been thoroughly enjoying my little cameos by the way. Hmmm... so it seems that there might be a show-down in order. Monkey head verses frog (yes, you heard me... I called him a frog).


Guy Humual wrote:


Hop-Toy, I've said before and I'll say it again, is Tristan's Jiminy Cricket. Chimpman on the other hand is something else . . . while Hop-Toy often represents Tristan's voice of reason I fear Chimpman might be slowly pushing her over the brink. They do get good lines though, and seeing as they're both voices that only Tristan can hear they do have an unfair monopoly on Tristan's attention, and thus get more lines on average then most of the PCs!

LOL! I've got this image of the two of them on Tristan's shoulders telling her what to do. Just like the little devil and angel in cartoons.

As always, Guy. I really enjoy this story.

Sovereign Court

Chimpman wrote:


Muuhaahahahaha <hack> <cough> I've been thoroughly enjoying my little cameos by the way. Hmmm... so it seems that there might be a show-down in order. Monkey head verses frog (yes, you heard me... I called him a frog).

Wasn't it Sun Tzu that said: "never pick a fight if you are small and easily fit in waste paper basket . . ." or something like that. Remember Hop-Toy is a familiar . . . Chimpman, at the moment, is still only an oddity. If Tristan needs to choose between one or the other, I'm thinking that Chimpman had better quit while he's a head . . . (ya, ya, we all knew that line was coming sooner or later).

thereal thom wrote:

LOL! I've got this image of the two of them on Tristan's shoulders telling her what to do. Just like the little devil and angel in cartoons.

As always, Guy. I really enjoy this story.

Thanks Tom, I always loved that dichotomy of angel vs devil, I've always thought it had great potential for comedy and drama, but I've never much cared for the simplistic good vs evil. I hope to use these contrary elements to help explain some of Tristan's choices in upcoming stories . . . for dramatic effect. ;)

P.S.: I'm still swamped right now, still working on the next update when the mood hits me, but at this point I can't say when this next update will be ready. I have a feeling that these next three entries are going to be pretty large (5000 word range). The playoffs should be finished next week though and that'll give me more time to write.

Scarab Sages

Guy Humual wrote:
Chimpman wrote:


Muuhaahahahaha <hack> <cough> I've been thoroughly enjoying my little cameos by the way. Hmmm... so it seems that there might be a show-down in order. Monkey head verses frog (yes, you heard me... I called him a frog).

Wasn't it Sun Tzu that said: "never pick a fight if you are small and easily fit in waste paper basket . . ." or something like that. Remember Hop-Toy is a familiar . . . Chimpman, at the moment, is still only an oddity. If Tristan needs to choose between one or the other, I'm thinking that Chimpman had better quit while he's a head . . . (ya, ya, we all knew that line was coming sooner or later).

:D Seriously though, I doubt at this point that Chimpman (the head, not me) even notices Hop-Toy, and if he does he probably considers him beneath said notice.

In the future though, who can say... that showdown would definitely be one to remember.

Sovereign Court

Chimpman wrote:


:D Seriously though, I doubt at this point that Chimpman (the head, not me) even notices Hop-Toy, and if he does he probably considers him beneath said notice.

In the future though, who can say... that showdown would definitely be one to remember.

Well, if he is to be believed, he can read Tristan's mind . . . which means he knows all about Tristan's familiar. Hop-Toy may also be one of the few creatures on the material plane that can hear him. I'm thinking that corrupting or converting Hop-Toy might suit his needs better.

Scarab Sages

Guy Humual wrote:
Well, if he is to be believed, he can read Tristan's mind . . . which means he knows all about Tristan's familiar. Hop-Toy may also be one of the few creatures on the material plane that can hear him. I'm thinking that corrupting or converting Hop-Toy might suit his needs better.

Hmmm... now there's a creepy thought. What happens when the angel and devil on you shoulders start sounding the same? Come to think of it, Hop-Toy might actually enjoy having someone else around (besides Tristan) with whom he can have an intelligent (albeit slightly insane) conversation.

Oh, by the way, just curious when Tristan is going to start using her new name?

Sovereign Court

Chimpman wrote:
Guy Humual wrote:
Well, if he is to be believed, he can read Tristan's mind . . . which means he knows all about Tristan's familiar. Hop-Toy may also be one of the few creatures on the material plane that can hear him. I'm thinking that corrupting or converting Hop-Toy might suit his needs better.

Hmmm... now there's a creepy thought. What happens when the angel and devil on you shoulders start sounding the same? Come to think of it, Hop-Toy might actually enjoy having someone else around (besides Tristan) with whom he can have an intelligent (albeit slightly insane) conversation.

Oh, by the way, just curious when Tristan is going to start using her new name?

Not till the end of CoBI. Someone of that name has been making appearances at the World Serpent Inn

PS anyone is welcome to create a character and join the conversation . . . think of it as a other worldly Cheers.

The Exchange RPG Superstar 2011 Top 32

Guy Humual wrote:
PS anyone is welcome to create a character and join the conversation . . . think of it as a other worldly Cheers.

Where everyone knows your True Name...

... Man, that would suck.


Khartan wrote:
Guy Humual wrote:
carborundum wrote:

Well, as a long-time fan ... okay, fanatical follower of Tristan's adventres I'd be happy to help. I've a bloggy thing I very rarely update but there's no problem with sticking a doc or pdf on it for everyone to download. I've half a gig of space and can have hundreds of gigs of traffic every month. I think I use about 30 meg and have maybe a hundred meg of traffic. The only people who read it are a few friends and family.

The offer stands, no pressure.

Wow, thanks carborundum, I might take you up on that offer. If someone is going to host these files for download I'd prefer that they were hosted by a fan rather then a disinterested 3rd party.
Excellent. I’ll leave the two of you to work out those details. As for the file itself, Guy, I’ll work with you by e-mail.
Guy Humual wrote:
carborundum wrote:

I think Guy has my email address - if not it's foolish.child at gmail. It'll take 30 seconds to upload whatever arrives and I'll stick the link here right after.

I'm sure there's all sorts of editorial stuff going on first, not to mention work and sporting excellence so I'll forget about it again until I get an email.

Thanks again carborundum, I'll send you the manuscript as soon as Khartan makes some slight alterations. Great work so far Khartan. I didn't say that in my email, sorry, I'm a little burnt out today. I've been painting a house and the sun was pretty cruel.

I'll try to get the latest entry up this Friday as well. I was hoping to have finished by today but it's the playoffs up here in Canada and my weekends, as of late, have been filled up with baseball. I'm hopping for more rain so I'll have weeknights to write.

Well, I have done the best I could in the editing department and have added the most recent installment. Just so you are both aware, Guy and Carborundum, the file size is 1,236 kb. How would you like me to handle this? E-mail it to the both of you? I could certainly do that – just give me the word. Carborundum, you might give Guy a chance to sign off on the final draft before posting a link. I don’t foresee any reason why he wouldn’t – I’ve only corrected a few typos and spelling errors, prettied up the formatting, and that’s about it. Nonetheless, it is his story and his call.

So, give me the word and I will shoot this file out to you!

Sovereign Court

Khartan wrote:

Well, I have done the best I could in the editing department and have added the most recent installment. Just so you are both aware, Guy and Carborundum, the file size is 1,236 kb. How would you like me to handle this? E-mail it to the both of you? I could certainly do that – just give me the word. Carborundum, you might give Guy a chance to sign off on the final draft before posting a link. I don’t foresee any reason why he wouldn’t – I’ve only corrected a few typos and spelling errors, prettied up the formatting, and that’s about it. Nonetheless, it is his story and his call.

So, give me the word and I will shoot this file out to you!

Wow, that's timing. I'm trying to polish off an entry to post tonight!

e-mail it to me Khartan please, also, I have a small bit part, which is entirely fitting, in thanks for all your hard work.

The Exchange RPG Superstar 2010 Top 32

A meg? That's no problem - even if 10 thousand people download it I'll barely break the traffic limit. Fifty euros for a year gives you 1Gb space with 100Gb/month traffic these days - and I never even shopped around. I've no idea what a really good deal is :-)

As soon as it lands in my inbox I'll ftp it and drop the link here. I'm looking forward to the next chapter more, of course :)


Fragments of the Lidu diaries – calm before the storm (part 1)

. . .
Day three: still nothing.

I must apologize for my lack of updates. It wasn’t too much activity that stayed my hand! Rather too little. It’s difficult to write when there’s so little to report.

The repairs to the ship are completed and not as much as a peep from the monsters on the island (much to Kiki’s chagrin). Seems I won’t be buying her dinks after all. Although Kale and the others did little over those three days (except scan the horizon) I did my best to keep busy. Although I’d have preferred to have spent that time back in Sasserine researching, I’ve started transcribing my diaries into common, and although my entries loose something in translation – I think they remain rather enjoyable. Perhaps I’ll look into getting my work published when I return to Sasserine. Someone must be interested in reading about our travels . . . especially to the dangerous and exotic Isle of Dread.

I should mention that I’ve decided not to record anything else learned through my sessions with Chimpman. Sort of a moot point really, my hands are often too shaky (as of late) after his revelations to record anything anyways, but I fear putting paper to anything that might fall into the wrong hands. The vile head seems to spout not but forbidden knowledge as of late. Last night he effectively reviewed everything I’d learned over the past five years from the Necronomicon. I can’t let that information fall into the wrong hands. I’m not going to completely remove him from my journals though, he’s let slip on more than one occasion that he’s not from my time stream, and so I’ll continue to record his comments and off topic conversations on the off chance that he might inadvertently reveals something important. Besides, if I can catch him in a lie then I might be able to discount some of his earlier claims . . . something about him puts me ill at ease. Naturally I’ll leave all traces of him out of my translated diaries.

Tomorrow we’ll finish draining the hold and hopefully pulling the Wyvern off the reef. It’s going to be touch and go I suspect, but the two captains, Amella and James, in the very least, have confidence. We’ve harvested a couple of trees from the jungle to act as runners, and with the high tide, and hopefully some strong wind, we should be able to slide the Wyvern off of the reef without further damaging the hull. Amella and James have both explained to me how it’ll work and why there should be no problems, but in my mind I see a wayward outcropping of reef re-tearing our hull like paper. I have a bad feeling about this operation. Time will tell I guess.

. . .
Suddenly our sails filled, as if by divine providence, or as if the Wyvern had sprouted wings, and with a great lurch we few off the reef and into the open waters again. My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly the Wyvern was once again dancing on the waves! James fought to control his ship, which suddenly had new life, and seemed wanting to make up for lost time. The tow rope had gone slack and we were rapidly gaining on the Blue Nixie. I found myself laughing. Rather I noticed the crew around me staring at me with those nervous smiles I’d slowly grown accustomed too . . . and then I realized that my mouth was open and I was laughing. I threw my head back and allowed myself to release all the nervous pent up energy I’d gathered over the last few days.

“Yes!” I screamed, “Osprem shows her mercy and carries us across her body!”

“Guess you were wrong,” Kiki said beside me, “we’re not going to have any bad luck after all.”

“Wait for it . . .” I mumbled, allowing the maniacal smile to slip a bit.

“We’s off the rocks boss,” Churtle chirped optimistically beside me, “what coulds happen?”

“Wait for it . . .” I mumbled, I knew something was going to happen, our luck had never been this true before, and Norebo wasn’t about to let the streak to continue. He would want to keep us honest and humble. Besides, it was impossible to mention good luck without suddenly facing the bad. Suddenly the water erupted and showered down upon us as two great thorny heads glared down upon us. Mashers. Two of them. One of these beasts had given us a great deal of trouble nearly a month ago . . . and now there were two of them.

“There it is,” I said with some relief as I allowed the smile to slide back on, “right on time. Now it seems that Wee Jas has once again given us a task . . . let’s not disappoint her.”

The great eels lashed out: Kale’s armor and sword stopped one bite while Fredrick’s speed was able to negate another attack. I allowed myself to rise off the deck of the ship as I conjured up a fireball to end all fireballs. I pushed it with my secrets of metamagic, making it larger and far more powerful, and then I lobbed it into the water right between them. The water boiled and the heat instantly singed the side of the ship. The great mashers seemed to wither and die like purple nightblossoms under the desert sun.

Odd that I should think that though . . . I’ve never even seen a desert . . .

Around me a cheer went up. I’d defeated the mashers with one spell! This spoke volumes of our increasing strength and experience . . . and would hopefully help build the people of Farshore’s confidence in us, as, up until this point, the vast majority of our exploits were private victories. We would need the people’s confidence if we were to stand a chance against the Crimson Fleet. We needed people to stand with us if we were going to stand up to the scourge of the sea. Our celebrations were premature though: two more of the horrible suction faced eels splashed out of the water beside the Blue Nixie!

I lobbed another fireball, but my mind was taxed from my earlier attack, and this blast was far weaker then my first. It took the combined efforts of our team to drop the remaining two monsters. I used the time to summon a giant shark like beast to guard our wake to ensure no more of those horrible mashers fatally decided to try snacking on our ship and crew. I was surprised to find that Churtle had taken the time to fish one of the flash fried carcasses out of the brine.

“What are you up to Churtle?” I asked as she talked some of the crew into hauling the massive corpse onto the deck.

“The gnome Urol says thats these fish is very tasty,” Churtle said with a toothy grin.

“Sense when do you listen to Urol?” I asked.

“Sense he says thats these mashers are also poisonus,” she said as I tried hard not to groan, “and that’s be two of my specialties. You want some masher for supper boss?”

“Maybe,” I said fingering the glasses that Blenak had crafted for me, “but can you tell if the fish you make is safe?”

“Oh yes, I most probably can,” Churtle said with pride, “I was best Kobold cook in my village for a good reason you know. I didn’t poison almost anyone in my two years making me the greatest chef in our village history.”

“Well that sounds . . .”

“Unfortunately village historian be poisoned three years prior,” Churtle mumbled as she turned to look over the great eel.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” I asked.

“Nothing boss,” Churtle said looking up at me with those innocent eyes, “just remembering how I gots promoted.”

. . .

I was quite surprised with the results. Despite having to dispose of three quarters of the meat because of contamination, and despite the awful look and oily texture of the meat, once in my mouth I was shocked at the flavor. It was extraordinarily rich. Almost like a smoked meat. It was very chewy and hard to cut, which is usually not good in a meat, but the rich smoky flavor was enough for me to overlook those flaws. I was almost sad that we hadn’t been attacked by more . . . as is we scarcely had enough for a single meal despite the size of the eel. A surprisingly large portion of the beast was devoted to poison production.

. . .

That smell shall haunt me till the day I die.

We were first alerted to the attack by the sounds on deck. The crew had shouted as the horrible demon suddenly appeared on the main deck, but as I quickly pulled on a clean shift, another sense was made horribly, painfully aware of the demon.

I’m told that sulfur smells like rotten eggs. I’ve never had the displeasure of suffering the stench of rotting food but I have had to deal with the smell of sulfur and ammonia. In the past I’d used words like ‘awful’ or ‘disgusting’ to describe those smells Henceforth I shall use the word ‘unpleasant’ to describe those odors for the smell that wafted in from under the door made them seem tame by comparison. In mere moments I’d find myself wishing I was back in my lab just bathing in the scent.

Buffy grabbed her mace, Churtle her spiked chain, Kiki her crossbow, and I picked up my spell pouch as we moved to defend our ship. Then we made the greatest tactical error in the history of the forth sense (also known as smell): we opened the door. It felt like I’d been hit. I’ve heard that expression before but until that moment I’d never truly known what it meant. My sinuses actually felt pain. Almost like fire. My nose felt like it was starting to run, my eyes started tearing up, the back of my throat and mouth were starting to sweat . . . I started gagging . . . I felt like I was going to start vomiting at any moment . . .

With the door closed we thought we were experiencing the worst of it but the moment the door was opened the stench came flooding in like a torrent bursting through a collapsed dam. The reek was magnified by an incalculable multiple. Buffy and Churtle would later tell me that it was far worse actually around the fiend. I was thankful that I didn’t have to experience that. I somehow forced the unbelievable stench from my mind and began summoning. Outside I could hear my companions retching and vomiting, Buffy had scarcely made it through the door of our cabin before she did the same, and to make matters worse, my summons scarcely materialized before they too were retching and vomiting.

Churtle stumbled past Buffy but she was soon gripping the railing as nausea overwhelmed even her kobold senses. I could hear my companions stumbling around (the deck of the ship was now slick with sick), we were all desperately searching for clean uncontaminated air.

“So these are the humans?” A loud booming voice called out in abyssal, “hardly worth mentioning. I think I’ll just kill all of you now . . . come out spell caster; I want to rip you to shreds with the others. Hiding will only prolong the inevitable.”

I felt a tinge of fear, not for myself, but for my companions. With the nausea we were unable to mount any sort of offense. To make matters worse, this filthy abyssal stain seemed to know something about us. I knew there was something on the island still, something vile, the tales of these skin walkers, and the dread that the natives feel towards the central plateau told me that demons were still likely linked to the island. Possibly also linked to Demigorgon (that temple didn’t spring up overnight) but I’d hoped that destroying the golem might have somehow weakened his influence on the island. Something was still watching us. I used my ring. For the time being I was trapped in the cabin, the main deck was inaccessible because of the stench, and with my fly spell expired for the day I didn’t dare d-door topside in case this beast could see invisible.

At the time I was confident that this thing was a Hezrou (closer examination later would confirm my theory). Extraordinary sensory abilities (like seeing the invisible) weren’t part of the demon’s known powers, but why take a chance? Not that it mattered much, almost everything I could do I could do from within the cabin. For the time being I knew I could give my companions the one tool that they desperately needed: Time! I commanded my summons to surround the beast, afflicted with nausea as they were, they weren’t able to mount any sort of offense, but the demon would need to go through my fiends before he could attack the crew.

Kiki fired information on positions back at me, crossbow bolts at the demon, all from inside the doorway (which seemed to sit at the edge of the stench). With Kiki acting as my eyes I commanded my beasts from inside the cabin. Thankfully the filthy thing decided to attack my summons. They were defenseless, and right in front of him, a poor tactical decision but a much needed reprieve for us. Thankfully my companions were soon able to join in the fight. Kale, James, and Fredrick were finally able fight past the nausea (through pure force of will I’m sure) and begin assaulting the monster. The tides had turned, the demon was tough, with many natural resistances, but the three men brought their five swords to bear, and the demon fell with a thunderous crash not long after . . .

They dumped the corpse into the sea, and we immediately began the process of cleaning the ship . . .

. . .

I had hoped to speak with Lavinia when I returned but she was locked in a meeting with her campaign staff. With less than five days before the election it wasn’t surprising to have lots of last minute strategizing. I had Lavinia’s servants poor me a bath. It had been two days and I still couldn’t get the stench out of my hair. I had the wash basin filled with cool water for Hop-Toy. Somewhere in the house below I could hear people murmuring and shuffling about.

I must have dosed off because I was woken by a slight nock at the bathroom door.

“Tristan?” Lavinia asked, “Are you busy? I was wondering if I might have a word . . .”

“I’m not busy,” I said sitting up, answering a bit too soon, “Come in . . .”

“. . . When you’re finished,” Lavinia had continued saying as I talked over her, “what’s that?” she said with some confusion, “No, I can wait, I don’t want to impose, it’s not really that important, I just came up to tell you that I wanted to speak with you . . .” Her voice sounded nervous.

“Come in,” I said, “it’s your house; you can’t really be imposing now can you?”

Lavinia opened the door and edged into the room. She kept her back to me and talked over her shoulder. “I just wanted to see how you were doing and find out how you made out . . .” she said, her eyes stole a glance over her shoulder, she caught my eye and instantly blushed and turned back to face wall.

“I also want to hear how you made out,” I laughed, “come over and talk with me,” I gestured to one of the dressing chairs but her eyes remained on the wall.

“Also,” she said with a slight sigh, “I wanted to talk about how we left things, you know before you left . . .”

“How we left things?” I said trying to remember.

“I didn’t mean to be so forceful with you . . .” she apologized, “and . . .”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh that!” I said between giggles, “I believe you were threatening to spank me or something . . .”

“Are you mocking me?!” She snapped, turning to face me with a hint of fire in her eyes.

“No ma’am!” I said, trying to sound earnest and properly chastised, but I fear the smile might have given me away, “but you know I was serious about not being someone to be trifled with, and I wouldn’t tolerated anyone else so much as laying their hands on me uninvited like that, never mind spanking me!”

It took a moment for the words to run around in my head before I realized exactly what I’d just said. What I’d just given implied permission for. My smile quickly vanished.

“Wait,” I said, “that didn’t come out right.” Lavinia raised an eyebrow, “What I meant was: you’re my friend and I didn’t really mind . . .” I held up my hands as if to say stop, the words weren’t coming out right, “that is to say . . . I understood that you were concerned, and I know I sort of needlessly put you through a lot of worry . . . and with the elections looming I guess your reaction shouldn’t have been completely unexpected . . . or completely undeserved on my part . . . and I guess that I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Why? What are you saying?” Lavinia said with a slightly confused look.

“I’m saying that . . . hmmm, I guess I’m apologizing for making you worry. When you told me about the troglodytes I just couldn’t stand those horrid beasts hindering our efforts and attacking your villagers . . .”

“And so you didn’t think?” Lavinia asked.

“Oh no,” I said, “I plotted the entire thing out. I knew what they were capable of, and what I was capable of, and I knew I could deal with the situation all on my own. I didn’t want the others getting in the way or stealing my glory.”

“You’re glory?” she said, sounding even more confused.

“For what that’s worth,” I said, referring to the aforementioned glory, “although now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t such a great feat for a wizard of my caliber. Hardly worth mentioning. I felt a bit like a school girl when I told you about it.”

“You told me,” Lavinia said, slowly processing the information, “nobody else, I had to explain that you’d taken care of the problem to the woodsmen . . .” her eyes suddenly flashed with some sort of realization, “did you slaughter those troglodytes, those sentient beings, just for me?”

“You make it sound sort of cruel,” I said, trying to lighten her mood, but her eyes flashed a hint of anger. Lavinia half turned to leave, and I suddenly stood, ready to give chase if necessary, I couldn’t afford to allow her to get the wrong idea!

“No!” I snapped, “I went to deal with them for you. They attacked me first. That’s why I have these scars.” I said pointing to the triangle shaped scar above my hip, “If I went to slaughter them I’d have returned to you without a scratch. They would have never seen their attacker. But they attacked me and I ended them. I’m not even remotely sorry for destroying them, such vile and nasty creatures, they forced my hands.”

We stood in silence for a while. Both of us were proud, strong, and idealistic women. It wouldn’t do for one of us to appear weak or flawed in front of the other. I wanted Lavinia to respect me . . . and it was slowly dawning on me that Lavinia wanted the same in return from me. If I was to serve her, it would be on her terms, and she wouldn’t tolerate me compromising her values just for the sake of expediency. Fareshore would be lucky to have her as her mayor. She was a woman I would gladly follow through all the infinite planes of the abyss, through the depths of hell . . .

It wasn’t until Lavinia’s eyes slowly drifted downwards that I remembered that I was completely bare to her eyes. It took every ounce of my being not to blush or cover up. I allowed her eyes to flow over my body. I was suddenly very self conscious, Lavinia was one of the most beautiful women that I’d ever met, and there I was with my pale scrawny scared hide out in the open for her perusal. With fabric you could conceal or enhance, but skin was far too brutally honest. I was small wonder that many people made love in the dark.

“Well I think it’s my turn to apologize,” Lavinia said after taking a long look, she slowly stalked up to me, I found myself looking down at her because of the added height of the tub, “I should never have doubted your heart and I’m sorry your body bares the marks of being in my service.”

“I consider them badges of honor,” I said, subconsciously covering them with my hands, “although they’re not pretty to look at . . .”

“No,” Lavinia gasped, “they’re beautiful, you’re beautiful. I . . . a lover should be consider h . . . themselves lucky to spend hours lovingly tracing each one into . . . their minds. I’m just sorry because most men want a pure porcelain virgin princess for their bride. A scar might turn them off. I wouldn’t want to ruin your chances of finding a husband because . . .”

“Oh no worries about that!” I laughed, “I’ve pretty much given up on the whole traditional marriage thing! Besides, why should I conform to someone else’s ideal? I want someone to accept me for who I am. Scars and all. I’m not perfect, far from it, but I need someone who will see past my scars, past my imperfections, and past my idiosyncrasies. I’m intelligent, perhaps too intelligent for my own good, and because of that I don’t always make the best choices. Amella said I needed a good anchor, but I think, to use her ship analogy, I might need a good rudder or keel . . .”

“I think you’re going to catch a cold if you keep standing there,” Lavinia said with a smile, “either back in the bath or let’s get you dried off. I can’t have the beautiful and powerful Tristan Lidu catching cold while she stays under my roof!”

“Right you are Lavinia Vanderboren,” I said with a laugh, I quickly turned back to the bath and found the sponge, “you can wash my back while you tell me about the election!”

. . .

“What do you mean you told him about the lost tribe?!” I gasped in horror.

“Well you wanted me to find out what Jeran wanted,” James snapped, “and we were likely going to be too busy to look into it ourselves . . .”

“So you told Tolin?!” I asked, still dumbfounded.

“Well I found him and Kale shortly afterwards and I guess he sort of overheard it,” James stammered, “I don’t see what the big deal is . . .”

“You do realize what he’s going to do now don’t you?”

“Probably go look for the ruins I imagine . . .”

“Ok, I want you to listen very carefully, ‘ape statue’, ‘fog’, ‘villagers gone’, what does that sound like to you? I just bet some servant of Demigorgon is grinding their bones for bread as we speak!”

“Look Tristan,” James said, trying to calm me down, “they’re adventures like us . . .”

“No!” I snapped, “Not like us! They were taken out by Bullywugs.”

“I’m sure they’ve improved sense then,” James said, “Tolin said . . .”

“Tolin is an idiot!” I growled, “I wouldn’t put him in charge of leading lemmings off a cliff.”

“They’re professionals Tristan, I have faith in them. Plus they need confidence; they can’t be in our shadows all the time. If they can handle this then they’ll be the stronger for it, and we need more than just numbers in the next few weeks, we’ll need strength, experience, and . . .”

“Fine, fine,” I said, “but if the Jade Ravens get killed off it’s on your head.”

. . .

“Guys!” Buffy said bursting into the library, “Look what I found!”

It was a note, but I couldn’t make out the hand writing, especially not with Buffy waving the thing around. We all turned to look to Buffy for further explanation.

“It’s a note,” she said, stating the obvious, “from James!” we all waited, “it seems he’s gone to look for the Jade Ravens!”

There was a collective gasp.

“Why would he do that?” Kale asked. I felt a twinge of guilt.

“Oh no!” Kiki cried, “He’ll be killed!”

“Relax everyone,” I said, “the island isn’t very big, James couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble . . .” the words sounded hollow even to me. Even as I tried to reassure everyone I couldn’t help but imagine him alone, lost, half starved, and bleeding from any number buffoon related injuries . . . perhaps in the very shadows of the outer barricade . . .

“It also says that he’s taking Orlani with him . . .” Buffy continued.

We all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank Wee Jas,” I found myself mumbling.

“Orlani should be able to keep him alive . . .” Kiki said, voicing the general consensus.

“What on earth would possess him to go searching for the Jade Ravens?” Kale asked.

“Who knows?” I said with a nervous laugh, “the ideas that guy gets! I tell you!”

“It’s odd ‘cuz Orlani can usually talk him out of his harebrained schemes,” Kiki said.

“Ya,” Fredrick said in agreement, “he must have been awfully determined to ignore Orlani’s good sense.”

“When did he leave?” Kale asked.

“I don’t know,” Buffy muttered, “I was out all day and I just got back tonight, so he could have left anytime between dawn and . . . well almost dusk.”

“Did anyone see him at all today?” Kale asked.

There were blank faces all around.

“I’ll look for him first thing in the morning,” I said, “at worst he’ll only be out there for a day . . .”

Everyone mumbled concern.

“And remember,” I said trying to put everyone at ease, “he does have Orlani with him.”

. . .

“James!” I snapped at the roguish captain when Kiki and I landed, “where the heck have you been?!”

“I don’t know!” James snapped back, he was clearly agitated, and nearly at his wits end, “I’m lost! Ok? I don’t even know where I am! How the hell do you expect me to tell you where I’ve been? I get it; I’m a captain not a woodsman, and I was stupid to go off on my own, Let’s all dump on James!”

“You’re filthy,” Kiki observed, “how did you get so dirty so fast?”

“He fell into some quick sand,” Orlani mumbled, “a cave shaft, and stumbled off a cliff. Then he almost caught fire cooking supper . . .”

“I didn’t even know the island had quicksand,” I said with some surprise.

“Well it does,” James snapped, “along with fire ants!”

“Oh yes,” Orlani said, “I forgot about them . . .”

“Fine, whatever,” I said, “let’s just go home.”

“Fine,” James snapped, “I’ve had it up to here with this stupid jungle anyways! Frigging little mud walkers! Let’s just see how smart they are on solid ground!”

I looked Orlani, but she gave me a little ‘don’t ask’ look and shook her head. I can only assume that that’s where James got the small bite mark on his nose. I teleported everyone back to Farshore.

. . .

“The election results are in,” Telda said. Lavinia, Fredrick, and I looked at each other and rose from our seats. Everyone assembled around Lavinia. Tolin and Fredrick both moved to offer Lavinia their arms to escort her to the assembly but Lavinia wisely took Tolin’s arm. Normally I might have felt a twinge of anger at Tolin’s presumptiveness, but seeing as Lavinia had made it quite clear to him that she didn’t have any romantic feelings for him, his role as escort would only be for appearances. Tolin was a better choice, Fredrick was a bit of a ladies’ man, but Tolin had but one flame, and Tolin wasn’t likely to garner rumors about Lavinia’s virtue. Kale would have been a better choice . . . I don’t think I’ve even seen him with a lady . . . but he’s far too dense to realize what he should do in social situations.

“Well this is it,” Lavinia said. She looked tense. I felt tense, despite my ace in the hole, but I refused to let Lavinia feel any doubt.

“This election is yours,” I said, “Remember what I told you. Manthalay doesn’t stand a chance.”

We walked to the chapel where everyone else had gathered to hear the results. I quickly scanned the crowd for Kiki. I spotted her near the stage. She smiled at me and gave me the ok sign. I breathed a sigh of relief. I waited for the results. Not that it mattered. Kiki had been my ace in the hole, silently, and with my ring, invisibly observing the elections. She had very strict instructions about spoiling ballets for Manthalay if he got more than one hundred and nineteen votes. It was purely morbid curiosity at this point to find out what the margin of victory was.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” Vesserin said, opening his hands, “we are gathered here today to observe a monumental event in our town’s history . . .”

“Just get on with it,” Manthalay mumbled from the far side of the stage. His smug smile and cocky swagger was gone, clearly the election had run its toll on him as well. I heard that he even spent most of last night buying drinks for his supporters and speaking to anyone who’d listen. The whole thing smacked of desperation.

“Ya,” shouted a lout from the crowd, probably a Manthalay supporter, “just get on with it!”

“Four years ago the Vanderboren and Meravanchi families,” Vesserin continued, “invested in a strange venture, colonization of the strange and mysterious Isle of Dread, and they sought brave and bold men and women who were equal to the endeavor.” Vesserin paused for dramatic effect, unfortunately for him a murmur ran through the crowd, and it wasn’t one that seemed supportive of priest’s public speaking, “Now, four years later . . .”

“Get on with it!” called a number of people, and to be fair this was hardly the time for speeches, people wanted to hear the results.

“Shall I just get to the results then?” Vesserin asked, amongst the jeers, perhaps slightly oblivious to the frustrations and animosity that this election had stirred up, “very well, here are the results: Manthalay Meravanchi: one hundred and eleven,” a murmur ran through the crowd, “Lavinia Vanderboren: one hundred and twenty . . .” I lost the exact number, it might have six or seven, the cheer from Lavinia’s supporters around me drowned out the last digit, but it was clear that Lavinia had won. It wasn’t a huge margin of victory; the town was almost split straight down the middle, but for the time being Lavinia had a mandate to run things her way.

Lavinia took the stage. There were few grumbles, Manthalay stalked off (along with a few of his supporters), but for the most part Lavinia’s was received warmly. She gave her acceptance speech, with little variation from the one she’d been practicing last night, and today she managed to hit all her cues perfectly. She was wonderful, the applause was completely genuine, and when she finished speaking I felt she had the entire crowd in the palm of her hand. It seemed that even some of the Manthalay crowd was applauding by then end . . .

Lavinia’s speech had the crowd mesmerized. I took the opportunity to approach Kiki.

“I didn’t have to do anything,” Kiki said when I was close enough, she slipped my ring back into my hand, “Lavinia won this fair and square.”

“And you don’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” I said, trying to keep my eyes on Lavinia and the stage, “especially not her.”

“Lips are sealed,” Kiki said, “it’ll be our little secret, I won’t tell anybody . . . who knows maybe I can use this as leverage later . . .”

“What?” I gasped, glancing down at Kiki.

“What?” she said looking up at me with those innocent eyes, “I said it’ll be our little secret.”

I grumbled and stalked off. Lavinia had won on her own (without the need of our tampering), and that was good, but Kiki now had something to hold over my head, and that was potentially bad. Still, Kiki wasn’t a particularly malicious type, so I’m not terribly worried about whatever future demands she might have, but this should teach me about doing anything nefarious or underhanded again. I’m just not cut out for politics.


Oh, my! Thanks for the Young Lady Chatterley homage. I think I broke out in a sweat there for a moment. Maybe the best installment yet!

Seriously, though, this IS, after all, told from the point of view of a character, so the whole point is the character development. Romance is a very important aspect of that. I find myself as sympathetic to Tristan as I was of my own character and want to see her love requited.

Bravo, mate!


Also, did you know that there is a character named Lavninia in Lovecraft's The Dunwich Horror (Lavinia Whateley). I only mention it because of the Lovecraftian references throughout the diary. Of course, there does not seem to be any connetion between the two characters other than their name, but I just thought I'd share.

Cthulhu dreams (and visions of sugarplums dance in his head)

Sorry, I'm in an odd mood today.

Sovereign Court

Khartan wrote:

Oh, my! Thanks for the Young Lady Chatterley homage. I think I broke out in a sweat there for a moment. Maybe the best installment yet!

Seriously, though, this IS, after all, told from the point of view of a character, so the whole point is the character development. Romance is a very important aspect of that. I find myself as sympathetic to Tristan as I was of my own character and want to see her love requited.

Bravo, mate!

Would that make Lavinia or Tristan Mellors? It's been a long time sense I read that book, but now that you mention it, there might be a certain resemblance to a couple of the scenes from the D. H. Lawrence book. Seems to me that the lady stumbles across Mellors bathing . . . and the rain scene. I might have to dig that book out of my university bookshelf and have a look.

I was never a big fan of Lawrence, although I did appreciate the poetry of his writing, but there was always something creepy and unnerving about his stories . . . I could never quite place my finger on what though. Perhaps it was his Oedipus Complex. If there is a resemblance it was built completely on a subconscious level and was not intentional on my part.

Khartan wrote:

Also, did you know that there is a character named Lavninia in Lovecraft's The Dunwich Horror (Lavinia Whateley). I only mention it because of the Lovecraftian references throughout the diary. Of course, there does not seem to be any connetion between the two characters other than their name, but I just thought I'd share.

Cthulhu dreams (and visions of sugarplums dance in his head)

Sorry, I'm in an odd mood today.

That's another book I'm going to have to dig out! Believe it or not I've not read, nor do I own, all of Lovecraft's books, but the Dunwich Horror is one that I think I own . . . somewhere. I'm not quite sure where that one's buried though! :)


Guy Humual wrote:
Khartan wrote:
Oh, my! Thanks for the Young Lady Chatterley homage. I think I broke out in a sweat there for a moment. Maybe the best installment yet!

Would that make Lavinia or Tristan Mellors? It's been a long time sense I read that book, but now that you mention it, there might be a certain resemblance to a couple of the scenes from the D. H. Lawrence book. Seems to me that the lady stumbles across Mellors bathing . . . and the rain scene. I might have to dig that book out of my university bookshelf and have a look.

I was never a big fan of Lawrence, although I did appreciate the poetry of his writing, but there was always something creepy and unnerving about his stories . . . I could never quite place my finger on what though. Perhaps it was his Oedipus Complex. If there is a resemblance it was built completely on a subconscious level and was not intentional on my part.

Yes, now that you mention it, there are several corollaries to D. H. Lawrence’s works, not just that one. See also The Rainbow and Women in Love. However, I was referring to Young Lady Chatterley the 1977 film (a film VERY loosely inspired by Lawrence’s work) which featured a bathing scene drawn very clearly to my mind while reading this installment of the diary.

Guy Humual wrote:
Khartan wrote:

Also, did you know that there is a character named Lavninia in Lovecraft's The Dunwich Horror (Lavinia Whateley). I only mention it because of the Lovecraftian references throughout the diary. Of course, there does not seem to be any connetion between the two characters other than their name, but I just thought I'd share.

Cthulhu dreams (and visions of sugarplums dance in his head)

Sorry, I'm in an odd mood today.

That's another book I'm going to have to dig out! Believe it or not I've not read, nor do I own, all of Lovecraft's books, but the Dunwich Horror is one that I think I own . . . somewhere. I'm not quite sure where that one's buried though! :)

Wow, yeah, any self-respecting Lovecraftian must read The Dunwich Horror. If for no other reason, the Necronomicon makes its most significant appearance in this story. Read, man! READ!!

Sovereign Court

Khartan wrote:


Yes, now that you mention it, there are several corollaries to D. H. Lawrence’s works, not just that one. See also The Rainbow and Women in Love. However, I was referring to Young Lady Chatterley the 1977 film (a film VERY loosely inspired by Lawrence’s work) which featured a bathing scene drawn very clearly to my mind while reading this installment of the diary.

I've onlr read two books by Mr Lawrence, Lady Chatterley, and Son's and Lovers, I've also read a couple of his short stories and some of his poetry. I've never even heard of that film (not a big movie fan myself) but I'm guessing that I haven't missed much with that one :)

Khartan wrote:
Wow, yeah, any self-respecting Lovecraftian must read The Dunwich Horror. If for no other reason, the Necronomicon makes its most significant appearance in this story. Read, man! READ!!

Oh I have read this story, long ago, but I couldn't remember a Lavinia being in it . . . although that's hardly uprising, Lovecraft sucked at writing female characters. cool site BTW, I had it book marked, but (perhaps ironically) I hate reading off the computer so I think I'll dig out my old paper back before leafing through that old story.


Guy Humual wrote:
I've never even heard of that film (not a big movie fan myself) but I'm guessing that I haven't missed much with that one :)

Well, I guess it depends on how you look at it :)

I tend to subscribe to the Jeff Murdock (Coupling - British TV series) method of watching films. (Refer specifically to the first season episode entitled "Inferno" - his comments regarding Holly Hunter in The Piano).

Yes, I am a complete disgustoid, as I believe all blokes are if they are truly honest.

The Exchange RPG Superstar 2010 Top 32

The collected version of the journey so far is to be downloaded (as a Word document) at...

THIS LINK

Let me know if it doesn't work!

Sovereign Court

carborundum wrote:

The collected version of the journey so far is to be downloaded (as a Word document) at...

THIS LINK

Let me know if it doesn't work!

Thanks carborundum!

The link seems to work perfectly! I'm going to add this link to Tristan's profile so it's always accessible.


Hi ho, Hop-Toy the toad here, (I’m not entirely sure why the author told me to say that, but he assured me that humans should find it amusing), and I’m here to fill two important roles. One to offer up some notes for this particular journal entry, and two, to fill time while the author desperately struggles to find time to write with so many distractions in his life. He doesn’t watch TV I’m told, except Stewart and Colbert, CSI, the national news, the local news, Simpsons, Family Guy, Amazing Race, W5, and the occasional TV special. Also I’m told that he sometimes watches TV shows off the internet (mainly British TV) . . . but only when he should be writing.

Long story short: he’s a slacker. Not at all like my henchwoman Tristan Lidu. This guy could use a toad on his shoulder to spur him on I think. Anyways: let’s have a look at his rendition of the Lidu diaries.

We start off with a brief look at the day we managed to dislodge our ship. This little section briefly touches on the three days of no encounters. It’s best that we glazed over that section. Tristan doesn’t do well with nothing to do. Limbo would be worse then hell for her. We nearly wore a path into the deck with her pacing (when we weren’t flying and circling the ship like buzzards . . . or storks). Tristan was quite happy when we were ready to move the ship . . . success or failure she was just happy for something to happen.

The mashers could have been potentially deadly. They were attracted by the grinding of the reef and if they hadn’t made the cardinal tactical error of appearing within thirty feet of one another. If you happen to own a wizard in your party (as my little group does) then anytime opponents group themselves together you can't help but cackling and happily rubbing your hands together in anticipation.

What is Tristan Eating this time? Not bugs or slugs like a sensible creature! There is far more nutrition and flavour in . . . hmmm, read the note . . . Mashers. Tristan is eating mashers . . . fascinating. What is fascinating is though, is Tristan’s love of eating large dangerous monsters! I think it makes her feel somehow powerful . . . what? Fine! Moving on.

Hezrou demons aren’t normally this dangerous, well within my little group’s ability, but the filthy frog appeared right in the middle of the ship, and the doors and stairs were cut off . . . unless you wanted to walk through his stench. Close quarters are truly the only place where these demons are truly dangerous.

I have to admit that I don’t understand humans at all. The bath scene for example, I watched the entire thing unfold, and I still have no idea what happened. Lavinia and Tristan just sort of stared at each other. Tristan got all quite about it later, like something major had happened, and yet nothing did happen. Confusing. I mean Lavinia was hardly the first person to see Lavinia without her cloths on, Kiki, Buffy, Churtle, and myself have seen her without her cloths plenty of times. Lavinia wasn’t even the first person to see her in a bath. Seeing as Tristan seems to have feelings for Lavinia I hope the other female wasn’t disgusted by her smooth skin and smaller stature. We toads prefer our women big warty.

What do you mean too much information? I thought that was what I was here for! Fine. Fill in the story. The interesting side note to James’ woodland adventure was that Jade Ravens returned shortly after Tristan and I rescued him from the woods . . . like the same night. It seems James’ exploits were simply an enormous waste of time. Sort of like how frogs are an enormous waste of flesh.

The election was also something that I found very confusing. Tristan’s choice of Lavinia should have been final. Why people disagree with her is beyond all understanding. Why would people, under attack by such fearful enemies, side against Tristan? For once even the stupid mammal had agreed with her. Humanoids claim to be smart but I can’t see how the matter could even be open to discussion. My forces were likely far more capable of levelling the town this crimson fleet, they seemed to be doing more for the war effort than anyone else, and Tristan is normally quite intelligent and so I saw no reason not to allow her this little indulgence. Why wouldn't the town's folk see this?

I can’t say I approve of her sneaking around, she even admitted that Lavinia would have been furious had she found out, but she did it anyways. I suppose this was one of those things were she really felt she needed to do something even though she didn’t. It was kind sad really. If a promise is so dangerous and binding why does Tristan feel the need to make them? Why not say “I’ll help you,” or “I’ll try to make you mayor”? These aren’t promises and it would keep her from feeling the need to do anything unnecessary. As I said smart, but no common sense sometimes.

Previews for next week? Hmmmm, the preparations continue. There’s a gathering of heroes from all across the island. Oh, I see here that there’s a couple of new characters popping up, Smarnil le couard and Eric Smith . . . odd sounding name . . . ‘Eric?’, I wonder what strange part of the world he’s from? Oh and battle plans are discussed and the team finally decides to give themselves a name. I wonder what it will be? I can hardly wait. I hope they go with my suggestion: “Team Toad!”

Also, if you liked my interpretations of events, let the author know. I might get to do more notes on these entries. Maybe even get my own segment ”Get familiar with a familiar” where I answer your questions.

What? About anything really. No not just the journal entries . . . not everyone is lucky enough to have their own familiar, I can answer all of life’s burning little questions . . . sure I can! You see this is why you need a familiar! Fine, fine, why don’t you go back to searching YouTube for more clips from the Gong Show.

Ok, thanks everyone . . . see you next week hopefully . . .


Pathfinder Adventure Path, Rulebook Subscriber

Hi, I've been reading this log for a while now, and I just wanted to thank you for putting it up, for two reasons.

One, it's very entertaining (I'm particularly fond of Hop-Toy, Churtle, and of the romance of Tristan and Lavina {so sweet, their fond shyness}.) You write character interactions quite well, and I'm very glad to see good ol' Churtle finds a good home in at least one of these Savage Tide campaigns.

And Two, it makes me reminisce fondly about my old alienist character, an elf maiden slowly turning into a bug. Her Far Realms feature was a pair of long, writhing cockroach-like antennae that wended back through her hair, though I always insinuated there was more than that... under the skin.

Sovereign Court

Drakli wrote:

Hi, I've been reading this log for a while now, and I just wanted to thank you for putting it up, for two reasons.

One, it's very entertaining (I'm particularly fond of Hop-Toy, Churtle, and of the romance of Tristan and Lavina {so sweet, their fond shyness}.) You write character interactions quite well, and I'm very glad to see good ol' Churtle finds a good home in at least one of these Savage Tide campaigns.

And Two, it makes me reminisce fondly about my old alienist character, an elf maiden slowly turning into a bug. Her Far Realms feature was a pair of long, writhing cockroach-like antennae that wended back through her hair, though I always insinuated there was more than that... under the skin.

Thanks Drakli!

Welcome to the thread!

Hop-Toy and Churtle are two of my favorite characters for sure. They have such completely different outlooks on life and that makes them fun to write for. speaking of Churtle, have you seen my other thread: The Official Churtle Thread? There are some good stories there.

I'm glad you're liking the Tristan/ Lavinia thing, I think they make a sweet couple, but there seems to be a fair bit of doubt and mixed signals going on. I only hope that this romance doesn't seem to drag out too long and that the pay out is worth it.

Alienists are cool, fun to play, but I'm starting to worry that they might be hard to write for. I'd planed to have started adding a more frantic and vivid sounding language to Tristan's diaries by now (such as the language she used in her brief episode after meeting Lord Theodran. Unfortunately that style of writing doesn't come naturally to me. Instead I've tried to plant little hints of Tristan's deteriorating sanity in her entries. She will do or say something, which she might be able to explain as natural, but probably isn't under more scrutiny.

I like the sounds of your alienist by the way. Very Kafkaesque


Pathfinder Adventure Path, Rulebook Subscriber
Guy Humual wrote:

Thanks Drakli!

Welcome to the thread!

Thanks!

Guy Humual wrote:


speaking of Churtle, have you seen my other thread: The Official Churtle Thread? There are some good stories there.

Oh, I didn't know about it that... I'll have to check it out.

Guy Humual wrote:


I'm glad you're liking the Tristan/ Lavinia thing, I think they make a sweet couple, but there seems to be a fair bit of doubt and mixed signals going on. I only hope that this romance doesn't seem to drag out too long and that the pay out is worth it.

I think it's going fine thus far. Such doubt, confusion, and tension makes sense in such a potential situation, particularly with a kind of relationship that might be taboo. If I have any solid concern about the two of them is how Lavinia will deal with it when her lady-love finally goes crazy. Things often go poorly for relationships when one lover allows Cthulhu in her life.

Guy Humual wrote:
I like the sounds of your alienist by the way. Very Kafkaesque

All intentional, I assure you.

I've actually been considering having her drop by the World Serpent Inn, but I didn't want to step on your alienist mojo. Still, a side of me has long wondered how Tristan and she would react to each other.


carborundum wrote:

The collected version of the journey so far is to be downloaded (as a Word document) at...

THIS LINK

Let me know if it doesn't work!

Sey, Carborundum, is there a way to tell how many hits this link gets? Like, how many people download the file?

The Exchange RPG Superstar 2010 Top 32

I have no idea - the software is called plesk - anyone know how I could find out?


Fragments of the Lidu diaries – calm before the storm (part 2)

Lavinia was able to pull together three work crews for me, and thanks to my earlier work with the troglodytes, we had plenty of lumber and supplies. I was feeling particularly ambitious that morning so I decided to start working on all my projects at once. The palisade would be simple, perhaps a week, and two at worst, but the two new watch towers . . . that was going to be hard work. I’m thinking I might be able to erect them in three weeks . . . if I’m lucky. I can see numerous problems cropping up already and although I put on a brave face secretly I’m worried. Perhaps I’d bit off more then I can chew.

. . .

I’m told that the cathedral of Wee Jas in Caldron is even more magnificent then the cathedral of Sasserine. I can’t believe it. Some travelers claim that the cathedral in Caldron is the finest in all the southern lands. I remain sceptical. One day I hope to visit Caldron and see this great tower with my own eyes, but until then, the Stern Lady’s cathedral in Sasserine shall remain, in my mind, one of the truly great architectural wonders of Sasserine (if not the world). One day I hope to design and build such a monument to the Witch Goddess, but I fear that day might be far off, because right now I’m having enough trouble building simple wooden towers scarcely one quarter the height.

I stepped into the great domed temple and approached the altar. The lesser priests accepted my prayers, gave their blessings, and sold me some incense so I might offer a proper sacrifice to the Stern Lady. I took my offerings to the statue of the lady that near the south eastern arch. This was the one that had talked to me nearly a year ago. Barely twenty hours into my fasting and praying the lady had spoken to me, to this day I can’t remember what she said, but I’ll never forget that feeling of rapture and joy. I could scarcely stop crying to finish my vigil. Naturally father was sceptical. He claiming that my commune was a simple result of lack of food and sleep, but I knew the difference between a vision and a hallucination, and I knew the statue had spoken with me. Still, I thought it wise not to tell anyone else in the family that I’d heard god. They might have gotten the wrong idea.

I bring offerings and pray to this stature whenever I’m in the temple. Not that I feel any great attachment to the statue itself, it was an inanimate object (and not even the most beautiful representation of the goddess in the cathedral), but this was where the goddess had spoken to me and this was where I liked to pray. Unfortunately I had scarcely lit the incense and knelt to pray when the click of boots caught my attention. They were distant at first, sounding almost like they where walking down one of the great corridors or the gallery, but I knew by the echo that the owner of those noisy boots was somewhere under the domed roof. I closed my eyes to drown out the sound but I quickly became aware that the boots were approaching me. I half turned, almost in a mood to berate whatever fool would dare make such a noise in Wee Jas’ house, when I saw the woman glaring down at me and all such thoughts quickly vanished.

“Tristan Lidu,” Lux Seoni said, “What brings you to the cathedral of Wee Jas.”

Technically the witchwardens were now supposed to be a secular organization. After we rid ourselves of the sea princes the escalating religious strife in the city threatened to spill over into war . . . thankfully great uncle Worrin was able to calm the tensions by throwing open our institutions to all beliefs. Originally to be a member of the witchwardens you needed to worship Wee Jas. Now all faiths were welcome. People in the church of Wee Jas weren’t happy, we had the most to loose, but civil war would have destroyed the city . . . and just within years of getting it back. Besides, had there been any true religious fervour in the organization at the time the switch wouldn’t have gone so smoothly. It was likely that the witchwardens were attached to Wee Jas in name only. Lux was different though. She made no secret inside or outside of the organization of her religious beliefs. Although she never went so far as to suggest the old ways should be brought back, she certainly hasn’t gone out of her way to kill such rumours. Lux in many ways represented the old guard.

“I’ve come to pray,” I said offering the statue an apologetic glance, “to offer thanks for her aide and the part she played in my victories, and pray for her continued support in the upcoming battle.”

“Do you say her name in battle?” Lux asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Sometimes,” I muttered, not completely sure if such things were blasphemous, “but she is a god of death and magic . . .”

“Then do you pray for her to take your enemies?”

“No,” I said honestly, “I sometimes just pray that she won’t take me till my job is complete . . . or thank her for giving me the strength to continue . . .”

“Have you ever met Annah?” Lux asked, referring to the high priestess.

“Yes, when I graduated from the academe, as per Lidu tradition, she baptized me, and she usually gives the sermons . . .”

“But have you actually met her, spoken with her for more then a minute?”

“No,” I admitted, “I’m not important enough . . .”

“Right,” Lux said stepping forward and extending her hand, “come with me.”

“Where are we going?” I asked before allowing her to take my hand. I was suddenly and sharply pulled to my feet.

“Don’t ask such foolish questions,” Lux Seoni snapped. She sharply turned and started walking towards the sacred library and offices of the cathedral. My arm hurt where it had been nearly yanked out of the socket, and I was forced to jog to keep up with her brisk pace. I soon I found myself standing in the private offices of Annah Teranaki, high priestess of Wee Jas!

“Lux my child,” the priestess purred as she extended her hand with her great ruby ring for Lux Seoni to kiss, I marvelled as the no nonsense mistress knelt meek as a lamb before the small aged priestess and gently kissed her ring, “what brings you here today, and who is this?”

“My regular business can wait, this is Tristan Lidu, one of the rising stars of the witchwardens,” I blinked in surprise, “I saw her in the temple praying at the feet of the Green Lady and I thought I ought to bring her to see you. She will be fighting against the crimson fleet soon and probably needs your guidance.”

“So this is Tristan,” the priestess said as she extended her hand, I quickly knelt and kissed her ring as well, “I’ve heard a lot about you through your long suffering uncle.”

“My great uncle?” I quickly asked, not meaning to correct her, but I had no living uncles on my father’s side of the family, and it seemed unlikely that anyone else would be talking about me, “Worrin?”

“Ah yes,” she said with a slight laugh and gesturing for us both to be seated, “how time flies. When I first met your great uncle we were both around your age. Now he is a great grandfather and I am high priestess. Tell me child who is your advisor and confessor?”

“Um, I sometimes talk to Tyralandi when she’s in, but I haven’t seen her in a while . . . I guess whoever is working the altar . . .”

“Tut-tut child, I know this is a big church, and it’s very easy to get lost in the shuffle, but you need to develop a relationship with a priest. You’re of noble birth, pure blooded Suel, descendent of one of our people’s great noble houses don’t you know, and now a rising star in the witchwardens. From what I hear you may be too headstrong for your own good. I don’t doubt your faith but you should have a priest . . .”

“The problem there,” the mistress of the witchwardens cut in, “is that she’s all the way over in Farshore.”

“I don’t think we have a cleric in that remote settlement,” the priestess muttered.

“You don’t,” I said, “but we do have two priests of Pelor . . .”

“He’s not even of the same Parthenon,” Annah said, clearly upset, but with her shrill voice it sounded like she was whining.

“The temple does have shrines to other gods,” I explained, “and the temple’s resident cleric is very open to other faiths, but I do miss having a cleric of the goddess at hand. I wanted to take a cleric of Wee Jas with us on the voyage . . . but sadly we couldn’t find room . . .”
“How are you returning to Farshore?” Annah asked.

“Tristan here has already figured out teleportation,” Lux said, I could swear that I caught a hint of pride in her voice when she said it as well, “a remarkable feat for someone so young.”

“I’ll be teleporting back tomorrow morning,” I said, “but I’m here by myself today, and I am capable of taking up to four people with me . . .”

I waited hopefully for either of the two women to make the obvious jump, but both simply stared at me, seemingly waiting for me to make the request.

“And Farshore is sadly distend to be the site of much death and destruction,” I added. They both regarded me coolly. “High Magus,” I said rising and stepping around her desk to knell at her feet, “Farshore is in need of a priest of Wee Jas. I am in need of a priest. A missionary might even be able to spread the goddess’s law to these strange and chaotic known as the omen. This is a town built by the people of Sasserine and Sasserine herself was a priestess of Wee Jas, I can’t imagine that she’d want her people to be without guidance . . .”

“You have pled your cause well young Lidu,” Annah said, gently placing her hand on my head, “I shall grant you your wish.”

The priestess pulled on a cord that snaked into the wall. Somewhere far off I thought I heard a bell ringing. Moments later, as I retook my seat, a young acolyte stuck her head into the room.

“Fetch me Smarnil,” the priestess ordered, and the young lady quickly vanished, “I have a priest in mind for this brave venture. He’s not a pure blooded Suel like yourself but he is very well versed in scripture, history, and holy law. I think he will make a fine addition to your small community, he is quite and unassuming, and outside of the church he is hardly a controversial figure . . .”

“Wait, what?” I asked as Annah began trailing off, “controversial?”

Just then there was a knock at the door. A smallish dark haired priest stepped into the room. He was small in stature, scarcely taller then me, and as he stepped into the high priestess’ offices he stooped slightly, making him appear even shorter. He looked like he came from Oeridian stock, what with his olive skin and dark brown hair, but his eyes were a shocking pale blue . . . much like my own. He quickly looked us over, showing signs of recognition as he looked to Lux, but no such recognition when it came to me.

“You summoned me High Magus,” he asked quitely. He had a strange accent, like the common tongue wasn’t his first language.

“Yes Smarnil,” Annah said, “I’m going to give you a very unique and special privilege, overlooking your past . . . shall we say discrepancies? Yes, overlooking that, and assuming that these were simply mistakes of youth, I’m going to give you the chance to build your own parish. It is a freedom that I doubt you could ever enjoy back around Greyhawk. It seems the goddess’s church has seen fit to put her faith in you again . . . don’t let us down.”

“Thank you High Magus,” Smarnil said with a slight bow, “where is this parish to be located?”

“Have you heard of Farshore?” Annah asked her subordinate.

“No,” he said scratching his head.

“What about the Isle of Dread?” Annah said as she pulled out a large ledger and quickly began turning through it.

A worried look crossed Smarnil’s face, “no, I don’t think so . . . but I’m not sure I like the sounds . . .”

“Gather your things, say your goodbyes, and prepare yourself for a journey. You leave with Tristan Lidu at morning’s first light.” Annah said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “When you are packed and ready return to my offices I have instructions for you.”

The man bowed and reluctantly left to pack his belongings. I waited for him to leave before turning back to Annah.

“What discrepancies? What did he do?” I asked. I was slightly worried.

“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Annah said, “It is a church matter, but you can rest assured that I see nothing lacking in his faith or his character.”

That wasn’t exactly reassuring. Two years ago there had been a scandal involving one of Annah’s disciples in Caldron. I wasn’t exactly sure of the details, the church had done it’s best to censor that information, but I did know it didn’t reflect well on Annah . . . there were whispers within her own church after all. Naturally I didn’t dare share these thoughts; I glanced at the two women, suddenly fearful that I’d allowed my concerns to show somehow . . .

“Have him meet Tristan in front of her family home.” Lux said to Annah, “it’s a fine landmark, and it will save Tristan from coming here and possibly interrupting morning prayers.”

“Quite right,” Annah said, quickly jotting down a note in a massive looking ledger, “I’m sure you have important work to do young Lidu, thank you for coming to see me, but I shalln’t keep you any longer.”

I quickly made my escape. I knew a dismissal when I heard one and I didn’t trust my mumblings . . . I didn’t think out loud as much as used to, I’m told that I often mumbled to myself, but these days I’ve been quite . . . except when under extreme duress. Being in a room with Lux and Annah should have been enough alone to send me over the edge . . . thinking about this Smarnil . . .

. . .

When I entered Blenak’s Bazaar the old man was nowhere to be seen. The young lad stood as I entered, quickly putting away the textbook he’d been studying, and nodded in recognition.

“Miss Lidu,” he said, “I’ll go see if the master is finished with his business . . .”

“No, let him finish with his nap,” the lad’s checks flushed, telling me my guess was right, “I need to haggle with him and it’s better if he’s not cranky . I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, you know I’m Tristan Lidu, but what’s your name.”

“Eric smith ma’am,” it felt strange hearing someone call me ma’am.

“Elric?” I asked, thinking perhaps I’d misheard him.

“No Eric,” he said, “I’m told it’s quite common in some places.”

I nodded, it was possible after all, it was a big world . . . but I suspected that he was meant to named Elric and his parents forgot the ‘L’.

“What are you studying El- , sorry Eric, what are you reading?”

“Metaphysics,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh I remember that!” I said with a smile, “I studied that in my final year. What are you looking to do? Transmutation? Conjuration? Invocation? All wonderful fields, as is a generalist, there’s nothing wrong with a little versatility. Abjuration and divination are also respectable fields.”

“I was thinking of illusion . . .” I couldn’t help but frown, “especially after reading this stuff, illusion seems so much easier . . .”
“How close are you to graduating?” I asked.

“Maybe another year,” he sighed, “I haven’t even started my thesis.”

“That’s a long time you know,” I said, trying to put things in perspective for him, “I was in your shoes about a year ago, now I’m exploring a strange new land and fighting demons and monsters . . .”

“Tristan,” Blenak said stepping out from the back room rubbing his eyes, “what a pleasant surprise, are you back from the isle of Dread for good now? That’s no place for a young lady . . .”

“The colony could be attacked any day now . . .”

“All the more reason for you to return home to your studies,” Blenak said, “leave the fighting to the warriors . . .”

“Anyways,” I said trying to change the subject, “I’m wondering if you’d be interested in making a deal, I need some better equipment.”

“Like what?” Blenak asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Well this rod of metamagic for example,” I said, “it’s served me well but I think I’ve finally outgrown it, most of my spells are too powerful for it to be enhanced with my current equipment . . .”

“So you’re looking for an upgrade,” Blenak said walking over to the display case which held the rods of metamagic, “another rod that can extend the duration of your spells I assume.”

“Yes, extrodanry useful,” I said, wondering how to approach this subject delicately, “I’d love to make you an offer on this rod of metamagic . . .”
“An offer?” Blenak snapped, “the price is clearly listed.”

“I have most of the cash to pay,” I said, “namely eight thousand in gold . . .”

“The price is eleven . . .” Blenak practically growled.

“And I do have this perfectly good rod which I bought from this store a few months back valued at three thousand.”

“But I only buy at half value . . .”

“In the past three years how many metamagic rods have you sold?” I snapped.

“That’s besides the point,” Blenak said growing red in the face, “if I start making deals with my customers next thing you know everyone wants to haggle . . . and I hate haggling!”

“But you wouldn’t be loosing money; you’d have eight thousand cash and a rod worth three.”

“Why not, got anything you’d trade? Magic beans maybe?”

“But this rod is more valuable as stock then the other rod. More people will be looking for this rod then the others because so few casters are powerful enough to use the others.”

“Then you sell it and bring me the money . . .”

“It might be worth more as a collector’s item,” I said in desperation, “you could sell it as once owned by Tristan Lidu or something . . .”

“You’d need to be famous for that to work Tristan . . .”

“Fine,” I snapped turning to leave, “I’ll make due with what I have. Good day to you . . .”

“Wait a minute,” Blenak said as I started walking out, “I said wait!” he snapped when I didn’t stop, “Tristan you walk out that door . . . so help me . . . you walk out don’t bother coming back!”

I stopped halfway out the door and looked to him. I was mad. I’d known and worked with him for over three years, I always steered customers his way, and if the deal I’d proposed was perfectly fair . . . it’s not like metamagic rods decrease in value or anything. He’d been mad as well and when he was mad he got more stubborn. I’d never heard him threatening banishment before.

Blenak turned sharply to Eric, “You go fill some orders! Take your damn textbook with you. You finish early you can do some reading!” Blenak waited till his assistant was gone before he turned back to me, “I don’t do deals Tristan,” I opened my mouth to say something when he cut me off, “But,” he snapped, “I have absolutely no love for the Crimson Fleet. They make getting stock very difficult. Also, as angry as you seem to be able to make me, I have no desire to see you stand against these monsters ill equipped. You promise me that you’re not going to do anything stupid and I’ll, as a one time thing mind, and I’ll take one and a half thousand off the price . . .”

“I don’t suppose you’d consider taking three thousand off would you?” I watched with bemusement as the outrage twisted on Blenak’s face and his mouth opened and closed wordlessly, “I guess not? I’ll take your offer then: my old rod plus eight thousand.”

. . .

The palisade is complete. This was easy compared to my work on the harbour and my ongoing work on the watch towers. The walls are now capable of withstanding a sizable ground assault . . . this will be of little use against the pirates (unless they try a two pronged attack over land and water) but I think it has been a good morale boosting exercise. Churtle has taken command of the now superfluous work crew. She’s using the extra hands to help trap the beach and part of the docks.

. . .

The omans from the seven villages started arriving just before noon, there were slightly less then two dozen of them in total, but this increases our militia by sixty percent. They also brought with them additional priests and wizards. Unfortunately this meant necromancers . . . and I hate necromancers. I thought it best to keep my distance from these particular emissaries and heralds of oman culture in case I inadvertently say something unbecoming.

Oman necromancers, in case you’ve never seen them before, are quite terrifying to behold. Most paint their skin white, skull motifs on their faces for example, and strange tribal tattoos or piercing are almost a given. They wear fetishes made from body parts. Teeth, toes, fingers, shrivelled up organs, and other unidentifiable bits of once living flesh are used in some form or function to decorate or adorn their bodies. Yet these are respected members of their tribes . . . and no doubt we will need their skills if we are to survive . . .

I was surprised to see the villager called Carborundum amongst their number. I would have thought he would have had his fill of us back at the Shrine of Zotzilaha, but he actually was on the first wave of boats, and it was he who strode forward from the group to meet us.

“Greetings Tristan Lidu,” Carborundum, “Grandmother sends her regards.”

“Who’s your grandmother,” I asked before I could stop myself.

“The Chief,” Carborundum said in surprise, “I’m surprised that she didn’t mention you to me. She is always trying to marry us grandkids off. Anyways none of the seven villages would release their war chiefs, nor did all send people, but all sent what they could in aid. We bring twenty two in all . . . but two of our number are zombie-masters, and we have three totem priests! We also bring supplies, arrows, oil, rope, poisons, and some weapons, but also medical supplies for after the great battle.”

“You’ve more then met our expectations Carborundum,” I said, “and you can tell your grandmother that this act of friendship will not be forgotten. But come,” I said, “you must meet the mayor and leader of these people.”

“You are not the leader?” Carborundum asked, expressing what could have been slight surprise.

“Believe it or not,” I said looking to the others, “but speaking is not my strong suit.”

“Nooo,” Carborundum said with mock surprise, “not because Tristan Lidu doesn’t try. Grandmother spoke of you often after you left. Both of her visits left a very strong impression upon our people.”

. . .

It was good to have a priest of Wee Jas in town. I’ve never been particularly religious but I always tried to attend at least one sermon every other Godsday. Fareshore is a small town though, and I see Smarnil almost every day, and so it’s practically impossible for me to miss a sermon. He seems to be fitting into life on the island quite well. He was a little shocked upon hearing about the impending attack by the crimson fleet, although I got the feeling he was slightly suspicious of Annah’s reasons for sending him to island, but I think he’s gotten over the shock and has come to accept the situation quite well.

He hardly even mentions it on a daily basis anymore.

. . .

I must admit that the phanatons are nothing if not brave! Sixteen of them floated into the harbour today on a makeshift raft. The ship was mainly built out of bamboo, tied together with vines, and was sea worthy only in that it floated on water. They seemed to be in extrodanry high spirits . . . like this was all one great adventure. They weren’t stupid or needlessly careless however. They later explained that they’d been waiting for a calm day before sailing across the stretch of water that separated Temute from the Isle of Dread.

Leader of the group was the phanaton that I’d come to know as Robin. He quickly apologized for not bringing a larger force but, as he put it:

“The boat could only hold so many.”

. . .

“This simply won’t do,” I said, “We need a group name. Calling ourselves ‘our group’ is just going to be confusing in both the planning and the command stages of this operation. Saying ‘the Jade Ravens’ is much less confusing then saying ‘those guys’ and easier then ‘Liamae, Tolin, Zan, and Kaskus’. Let’s figure something out . . .”

“I suppose you’ll want something like ‘Tristan’s Troopers’ or something?” James said.

“Well it is . . .” I started to say.

“The Wyvern’s Watch,” Orlani cut in.

“But we’re not always going to on board . . .”

“The black Watch,” Fredrick suggested.

“The Krakens,” Kiki happily added.

“Give me a moment,” I said, pulling out my journal, “let me write some of these down.”

I jotted down their suggestions as well as some of my own, there were quite a few suggestions, and it wasn’t likely that all of us were going to agree on just one name. So I devised a voting process to eliminate some of the weaker choices. In the end we were limited to just seven choices, I had everyone select just five (giving them a value based on what order they selected them), and in the end, when all the votes were tallied, it was one of my suggestions that had won! The Swords of Sassierine!

“That abbreviates to S.O.S,” James whined.

“Then why did you vote for it?” I asked, it wasn’t his first choice, but he had selected it. James mumbled something unintelligible but made no more complaints. Tecnically it was T.S.O.S. and if anyone should have complained it should have been me! I don’t even own a sword! No matter, I was pleased with the name I suppose, and it was my suggestion after all. It looks like the Swords of Sasserine are here for good. We decided to have a drink to celebrate out new name

. . .

It was late but something else was bothering me about the plans.

“What do we do about the non-combatants?” I asked, “I really don’t want any collateral damage.”

“We could hide them in the hills somewhere,” Kale said, “I hear there’s some caves somewhere up there in the hills . . .”

“I don’t think anyone wants the civilians to get hurt,” James was saying.

“But to be honest we’re going to have enough to look after on our own,” Fredrick quickly added.

“Besides if our defences fall,” James added, “it really doesn’t matter where they are on the island, these crimson fleet bastards will hunt them down and torture then to find out where more treasure is. They’re monsters, pure and simple, and that’s why we can’t fail in the defence.”

There was silence for a while.

“We could put them on the Blue Nixie,” Lavinia said, “Amella could sail them around the peninsula . . .”

“But then the pirates might just give chase,” Kale said, “and all our defences are here . . .”

Again, there was a moment of silence.

“Maybe . . .” James said scratching his chin, “Maybe we shouldn’t abandon our Sea Wyvern idea. We could escort the Nixie part way round the island, and then pin them in and attack the fleet from behind.”

“That sounds risky,” Kale said.

“Well they’ll likely use siege weapons from their ships anyways,” James said, “if we can’t do something about that, whatever defences Tristan puts up they’ll likely just knock down. If we time it right we might just come across their ships just after they’re releasing landing boats. Their ships will only have skeleton crews and if take out their fleet, take out their escape route; it might take the heart out of them. Who knows, we might even be luckily enough to be able to use some of their weapons against them. “

“But that would mean that the town would be forced to fend for itself for a time,” Kale said.

“It would take them time to lower boats,” James pointed out.

“And it would create two fronts to attack from,” Fredrick said, “and most of Churtle’s defences are designed to slow rather then halt . . .”

“It’s too great of a gamble,” Kale said.

“Everything at this point is a gamble,” I said, “I don’t like it either, but I like the prospect of people being sent to hide in the woods less. So what’s your counter proposal?”

“Fine, we’ll do it your way . . .” Kale said.

“Not my way,” I said, “It’s James’ plan, I’m just agreeing with it. I want all the non-combatants out of town. This is just the best plan we got for that. OK, starting tomorrow we’ll need to figure out who’s going and who’s staying, then we’d better start practicing and drilling everyone so that we can get people out of town before the fleet can block us in.”

. . .

The towers are finished. The town is fortified. Churtle’s has finished trapping the beach. The troops have been briefed and know the plans backwards and forwards. We are willing, ready, and able.

Let the pirates come, we’re ready,
Cthulhu dreams

Sovereign Court

There's going to be typos in this one. I didn't have time to edit it, but I wanted to get this entry up on time

Sovereign Court

Drakli wrote:

All intentional, I assure you.

I've actually been considering having her drop by the World Serpent Inn, but I didn't want to step on your alienist mojo. Still, a side of me has long wondered how Tristan and she would react to each other.

Are you kidding? Tristan has only ever met one other alienist in her lifetime. She'd probobly view it as meeting a long lost brother or sister.

Also, everyone is welcome, and don't worry about reading up on everything. Just build a character and jump in. The more the merrier.


Cool! I was taken by surprise that this was up already. Yay!
Lux is really turning out badass, "Don't ask such stupid questions." *snigger* I'll have to steal your style of her for my game. I have other plans for Annah however...
Hmmm a new support character. I have to admit Smardil(sp?) sounds familiar.
It's too bad there wasn't much on the TxL front it's nice to see her input at least in the planning.

There was one thing though typo wise. Was that bit with "Green Lady" on purpose? I don't recall that particular monikar for Wee Jas.


ok... I don't get why the forum doesn't like sniggering...

Sovereign Court

fey'Dorian wrote:
Lux is really turning out badass, "Don't ask such stupid questions." *sn&~#@&* I'll have to steal your style of her for my game. I have other plans for Annah however...

I think she needs to be a badass. She's head of a group of mages that's responsible for defending the city. I see her as a cross between a marine and a nun. Not someone you want to mess with.

Annah is a softer touch, she's old, has a shrill voice, and has brought shame to the church of Wee Jas because of the actions of her former student. Yet she's still in power somehow . . .

I see her more of a cold calculating type, who plays her enemies against each other, and probably has her hand in many pies. She really doesn't even register that way in the diaries mainly because she's showing herself to be what she wants Tristan to see. My thoughts are simply these: "was is Lux's idea to bring Tristan to see Annah or the other way around."

fey'Dorian wrote:
There was one thing though typo wise. Was that bit with "Green Lady" on purpose? I don't recall that particular monikar for Wee Jas.

Not her first time appearing in these diaries . . .


'Robin' has to ask : Do the town has a supply of coconuts to throw at the pirates ?

The Exchange RPG Superstar 2010 Top 32

Sweet - my favourite native is back! Hope he survises the battle!

I'm especially looking forward to the return of a certain "bad brother." That particular confrontation has been mentioned a long time ago :)


Guy Humual wrote:
There's going to be typos in this one. I didn't have time to edit it, but I wanted to get this entry up on time

Yes, I noticed. I'm working on that. ;) You seem to have a problem with "since" and "sense." The spell-checker doesn't catch that, so I think I may have missed many instances in Volume 1. So, I guess what I’m saying, Guy, is, “Stop making ‘sense’!”

Spell-checker. It sounds like an artifact that helps prevent arcane mishaps! HA!

Sovereign Court

Khartan wrote:
Guy Humual wrote:
There's going to be typos in this one. I didn't have time to edit it, but I wanted to get this entry up on time

Yes, I noticed. I'm working on that. ;) You seem to have a problem with "since" and "sense." The spell-checker doesn't catch that, so I think I may have missed many instances in Volume 1. So, I guess what I’m saying, Guy, is, “Stop making ‘sense’!”

Spell-checker. It sounds like an artifact that helps prevent arcane mishaps! HA!

Hehe, I try to type as fast as I think . . . doesn't always work. Also thank god for spell checker. I'm a terrible speller, I often can see when a word is spelled incorrectly, but I can never seem to spell it right myself. Once I got held up on 'cute' for some reason I couldn't get past thinking it was spelled with a 'q'!

Another couple I often make are strait/straight, write/right
There are lots more of course. If I ever started writing for a living I'd need a vary understanding editor :)


Guy Humual wrote:

Another couple I often make are strait/straight, write/right

There are lots more of course. If I ever started writing for a living I'd need a vary understanding editor :)

And, apparently, vary/very. That’s okay, though, you DO have a very understanding editor. ;p

Sovereign Court

robin wrote:
'Robin' has to ask : Do the town has a supply of coconuts to throw at the pirates ?

LoL, awesome :)

carborundum wrote:

Sweet - my favourite native is back! Hope he survises the battle!

I'm especially looking forward to the return of a certain "bad brother." That particular confrontation has been mentioned a long time ago :)

Hey! No spoilers! But we'll all find out in a week or two!

Khartan wrote:

And, apparently, vary/very. That’s okay, though, you DO have a very understanding editor. ;p

Stupid English language. Oh well, my fault for being born here, but thank god I don't have to pick it up as a second language.


Guy Humual wrote:
Khartan wrote:
And, apparently, vary/very. That’s okay, though, you DO have a very understanding editor. ;p
Stupid English language. Oh well, my fault for being born here, but thank god I don't have to pick it up as a second language.

I consider British and American two different languages, and I happen to speak both fluently.

Sovereign Court

Khartan wrote:
I consider British and American two different languages, and I happen to speak both fluently.

I hear ya there! Here in the Atlantic Canada we have Newfoundland and let me tell you Nuwfie has got to be one of the strongest accents in the world.

Sovereign Court

Ok, I'm trying to get back into a once a week schedule but it's not happening this week :)

Today is Thanksgiving up here in Canada and I plan on eating my weight in turkey and all the fixings. I might be able to offer some author's notes later . . . but I plan on being too gorged to type.


Churtle is cooking ?


Guy Humual wrote:

Ok, I'm trying to get back into a once a week schedule but it's not happening this week :)

Today is Thanksgiving up here in Canada and I plan on eating my weight in turkey and all the fixings. I might be able to offer some author's notes later . . . but I plan on being too gorged to type.

When you celebrate Thanksgiving, what are you all so thankful for? That England didn't copyright the language? :)

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