Before Viktor can decide which way to run, Morgtii's arrow finds him. The apprentice necromancer falls dead.
Initiative Order, status and effects
Rudolpho (9/9 HP)
Varamar the necromancer
Wolf-eyes (6/15 HP) blinded
()Dewall (-1/11 HP)
Morgtii (4/12 HP)
Kee-rik (-3/10 HP)
Raidh (11/11 HP)
Dolph has no fear, and again tries to blast the awful magic user.
Destructive Blast
Damage
Rodolpho steels his will and steadies his aim and lets fly with a concussive blast that tears straight through the scroll the necromancer was reading and hits him forcibly in the chest.
oof! Varamar staggers under the impact. He looks up with murder in his eyes. This isn't over, you meddlesome fools!
With a sweeping wave of his hands, his body shimmers then vanishes from sight.
Spellcraft
"Where'd he go?! Something weird happened and now he's vanished!"
"No idea!" shouts Raidh, longspear held out in a defensive posture, head swiveling as she scans the area.
"Wolf-Eyes! Talk to me! You alright?"
When Varamar doesn't appear to attack, or reappear, and with Kee-rik not bubbling away to death, Raidh crouches to see to Dewall.
Dolph burns another spell point and channels positive energy.
Channel
Dolph burns another spell point and channels positive energy.
Channel
Channel two
Dolph heals his wounded comrades with burst of positive energy, and eventually the party relaxes its guard as it becomes clear that Varamar has fled, eluding them once again.
Loot:
1 msktwk plate mail
1 mstkwk large steel shield
1 mstwk long sword
6 darts
1 dagger
1 silver holy symbol (Krotus the Everdying)
After recovering from their second encounter with the necromancer Varamar, your group gathers up any valuables from the field of battle and fetches Isabella and Raf from their hiding place. Only then do you set of back to Eiren to lick your wounds and piece together your next move.
At Sillion’s tower you go over what you have learned.
The Book of Terniel was stolen from Sillion by a cult of demon worshippers called the Kaj’Talel. That cult has since been all but wiped out by other factions seeking the book. The first victim was the widow Lidda when her cottage was levelled by a raiding thawn giant. Next was Walcott Norion. He and his family were killed by Varamar, eager to learn the book's location from the boy.. Finally, The thawn captured the book from the cult’s master, slaying his last two followers at their secret hideout in the abandoned mineworks east of Eiren. This leaves only the maimed and shamed 15 year old son of the town Reeve, Maillister Ballister, and the mysterious Master himself, who vanished into smoke after you confronted him in the mine.
The book then, is presumably in the hands of the degenerate thawn, who even now carry it off to wherever their lair deep in the fetid bog beyond the Zarin wood.
You must recover it! Sillion urges as you recount your tale. Little is known of the thawn but, but they are despicable and evil. Fate turned its back on them long ago and there is no telling what horrendous ills they could wreak with the power of the Book.
Not me mate, pipes up Wolf-eyes. Lost too much already to that cursed bog and nuthin s’ gunna drag me back now. I reckon me and Dewall will stay here in Eiren. After all, Sillion here’s still got the key to that book, and needs guard’n too don’t it?
Sillion blinks in surprise Well, that is true. I certainly won’t turn down the offer. He turns to the others. Your friend is not wrong. The fetid bog is a dangerous place that few honest men return from. Make sure you are well prepared before you set out.
Know. Local or Geoegraphy
Dolph tries to remember what might help the group survive that awful bog.
The Fetid Bog lies about 20 miles from Erien, through Zaran Wood. It is located east of Erien, and is about 18 miles long and 15 miles wide at its widest point. There are known to be at least two large goblin settlements in the deep swamp. On the east and west edges of the swamp are two extraordinary expanses where the trees and foliage are swallowed by great mushroom forests.
To get to the fetid bog, you must pass through Zaran wood. Agreements between Forester Cale and the Eldrinael Elves of Zaran have established a 5-mile band of woods around the village considered ‘town forest’. Inside this band are numerous lumber camps, and this area is generally safe. Beyond this zone is elven territory.
No one in Eiren has ever successfully scouted the bog, so no complete map exists to you knowledge.
Dolph tells the others what he knows of the land. "any of you survival types know about camping and exploring in a bog? Any advice would be appreciated."
Kee-rik looks upset in his own small way. "I live in bog. Gripplis live in bog. Not appreciate being called dishonest."
Sillion blinks, taking a moment to understand Kee-rik's meaning, then grins widely. But, master grippli, you are no man. I am quite sure that you and your kin are purer of heart and nobler of spirit than the ruffians and rapscallions that are drawn to find their fortunes as interlopers there.
Raidh rubs her chin thoughtfully.
"I have a few ideas. One, we need to make sure we make the most of our capabilities. I for one need a stout and sharp blade to heft. Two, some alchemist's fire or similar items might give us an edge - something to thow from a distance so we don't get flattened engaging these things up close. Thirdly, I need to visit the dressmaker's. Silion, is there one here in Erien?"
Raidh's request for a dressmaker garners more confused blinks from Sillion. Well, no not really. Most fine dresses are brought in from Crestwall or farther south through Melodies Roost, the general store. You should try there.
Sillion waves to the doorway, and Pruet walks in carrying a tray with large money pouches on it.
I've taken the iberty of having Pruet trade in all that dusty and dented gear you brought back with you for hard currency.
"Keerik, Raidh, buy what we need for swamp survival, and I'll gladly pay my share of it. We probably need rope for sure, and after we finish shopping, let's get going."
This bedroll is stuffed with cockatrice down. Their gaze may turn you to stone but their feathers make for the softest night's sleep you'll ever have. It normally goes for 11 gp, but since you were so brave rescuing that little girl from the mines, I'll let you have it for 10gp.
Tarian Vidaos, proprietor of Melodies Roost is the oldest elf you have ever met. She is dressed in a bulky outfit of ornate furs and silks trimmed with fancy baubles. As she barters with Raidh, Kee-rik shuffles from foot to foot, uneasy under the unsettling gaze of her pet vulture that perches in the corner.
Raidh has been able to secure the mirror she was after. After turning down a full length wardrobe mirror weighing easily over 200 lbs, and a petite ivory framed makeup mirror for over 200 gold, she settled on a buckler sized mirror in a sturdy wooden frame, repossessed and repurposed from a bankrupt alchemist's lab for 25 gp.
You know,Tarian muses, tapping the side of her nose and looking at the sizable pile of gear Kee-rik and Raidh have gathered in the centre of the shop floor. All this isn't going to be cheap. Since you are headed into the bog, I might be able to do you a favour. There are ruins of old elven settlements in that bog. Keep your eye out for any elven artifacts or art that you find in those ruins and bring them back to me, and I'll fund this little expedition of yours. I'll even pay you fairly for your finds - minus expenses of course.
Tarian beckons Raidh and Kee over to a side counter with a conspiratorial wave of her hand. Before you go, discerning and survival minded adventurers such as yourselves might be interested in some of my premium wares. She produces a velvet lined tray of rings, small flasks and a stoppered scroll case:
Potion of shield of faith +2 50gp
Oil of bless weapon 50 gp
Scroll of see invisibility 150gp
Ring of determination (+1 will) 350gp
Clotting ring (stabilize after 1 round of dying) 900gp
Ring of Dweomersight ( Cast detect magic at will) 900gp
"Keerik, Raidh, buy what we need for swamp survival, and I'll gladly pay my share of it. We probably need rope for sure, and after we finish shopping, let's get going."
Kee-rik looks confused at the comment about buying something for swamp survival. "Never bought things for swamp. Swamp gives all that's needed." He is trying to find a way to wrap the magic necklace in a strip of cloth or leather so that the goblin deity isn't showing, but the magical protection still persists.
Raidh blushes as 'Dolpho appears to think her the "survival" kind of gal. Truth is, her nature knowledge is mostly circumstantial and experiential, when it doesn't apply to horses. Nevertheless she pores over the items in the store, and her eyes brighten as Tarian proffers her special wares...
Dolph will but the scroll of See Invisibility, for sure, as the last thing he could want is for something invisible to lead them on a goose chase around that swamp.
Raidh hands over some coins to pay for the scroll, knowing Dolph would make good use of it.
Well girl? Tarian asks. What shall it be? Will I be bankrolling your little expedition or is all this gear going to be cash and carry?
The vulture in the corner caws loudly and Kee-rik couldn't tell if it was in impatience or hunger.
"Wha...oh. The elf ruins! We are definitely interested in those. We'll be sure to investigate them and bring whatever we find to you for your perusal!"
Tarian claps her hands in delight. Excellent! I will draw up the papers. Everything will be ready for your departure tomorrow morning.
Meanwhile, Morgtii and Dolph see what they can learn from the locals about the nearby Fetid Bog.
Morgtii, of course, remembers some from its childhood before the great disappearance ( though its hive was situated in the great mushroom forests to the west of the bog rather than in the bog proper), and fills out some more details from his friends in town:
The Fetid Bog is a miserable place filled with biting insects, stagnant water, and danger. Goblins infest it and wise people avoid it. Adventurers passing through Erien are often drawn by tales of ancient wealth waiting to be found in ruins buried in the bog. It doesn’t help that people like Tsarian Vidaos offer bounties for recovered relics. Few return to Erien to claim those bounties, however. The Fetid Bog is a favored hiding place for the enemies of Eastdale. Aside from the innumerable goblins, Warlord Mukar, Gavin the Double, and Grimtooth are all said to hide out somewhere in the bog. Mukar is often sighted in the southwest.
Dolph chats up a group of lumberjacks in from Zaran wood and finds out the following:
The Fetid Bog is dark and unwelcoming, filled with stinging insects and dangerous creatures. There is at least one, and maybe more, goblinoid cities in the bog. Even the Eldrinael avoid the place. A tribe of reclusive giants live in the bog, terrorizing its residents and taking goblins as slaves. These “rag men”, as the goblins call them, are horribly disfigured giants. They’re not very smart, but they are clever and cruel, and rival kobolds in the creation of traps. They avoid the ruined cities common in the bog. Most goblins in the bog are from the Droktael clan. They farm mushrooms, raise giant slugs as cattle, and fish the dirty bog waters for eels. The goblins have at least two cities in the bog, one in the southeast, and another to the north.
Bah. Human propaganda.
Edit: I mean, they make it sound like stagnant water and eating slug are bad things!
"This trip is going to be miserable, no offense, Keerik. At least for us city dwellers. What really worries me is the rumor of the Giants in the area. I know we are no match for even one of those, so we must be clever and stealthy."
The next morning break clear and blue as the adventurers gather in front of Melodies Roost. Waiting for them is Tsarion with a fully loaded pack mule, some porters, and the muscle-bound mercenary that they met at the Greenbriar tavern several days ago. Tsarian introduces the mule first. This is Roberta. She's a tough old girl who's been in and out of the swamp a half dozen times. She scratches the donkey affectionately behind the ears.
Oh and this is Aedron. She waves at the mercenary. I took the liberty of adding someone a little less...scrawny to your roster. Here the old woman gives Aedron an inappropriate pat, and cackles. He'll be joining the expedition as a full partner. You're all employees of the Many Merry Merchants Guild now, so act appropriately out there, and bring me back something pretty.
Roberta is laden down with 60 days worth of food and drink (enough to feed 5 people for 12 days), a large tent, a fishing kit, 2 50' lengths of rope, a firemaking kit(including dry kindling for 2 weeks) and 2 dozen torches.
In addition, each character has had a backpack made up for them that contains a bedroll, mess kit, 2 more days of rations, an oilskin poncho and a thoughtful gift from the Many Merry Merchants guild:
Morgtii: 6 Trip arrows, 1 exploding arrow, a flask of honey mead. A note around the exploding arrow reads: Be careful with this one. The shaft is hollow and filled with hellhound teeth and fire giant blood! T.V.
Raidh: Masterwork spiked gauntlet with a note that reads, For when the boys won't keep their distance. T.V.
Rudolpho: A wand made from a gnarled white branch ( Cure light wounds, 12 charges) an attached note reads, To keep that pretty young brain of yours inside your cranium... and look after my donkey! T.V.
Kee-Rik: a bottle of brewed reek and a large bag of dried crickets.
Aedron: a fist sized ugly black and green rock with a note that reads, Reminded me of your dear old dad. Use it to save a life - or not. Some things are better left dead. T.V.
Morgtii inventories the gifted goods and adds the new arrows to its quiver, using its midlegs to make small but easily identifiable marks on the trip arrows so it can quickly identify them by touch.
"Trust in Morgtii and Kee-rik-friend to see us safely through the Bog. We will not disappoint."
"Hands off the goods, madam." He doesn't seem very bothered though.
"You're good at that swampwalking thing? I tracked some goblins out there myself, but eh, you know how it goes. I'm glad I'm not the only wildsman around." He nods at the strange creature.
Dolph pats the donkey. "Hopefully you can get us in and out of there one more time," he smiles.
He turns to look at the newcomer. "Nice to meet you, Aedron. If you can keep zombies from running up on me and punching me in the face, that would be great. Hopefully we will be in and out of this place really quickly.".
Hah! Not too quickly I hope. I've got an investment to recoup! chortles Tsarion. Now off you go, you're wasting daylight
Kee-rik says, "Thanks for snacks." He stows the gear and replaces his own poncho with the oilskin one. It's only polite. He looks a bit wistful, thinking of home.
The party sets off into Zaran wood east towards the bog. After about 5 miles of travel they cross out of the part of the forest that is considered "town" forest and into the trackless boreal heart of Zaran, the home of the Eldrinael elves. Travel is much slower here, untouched as it is by the hands of human lumberjacks.
The day passes quietly, and by sundown you have covered about 15 of the twenty miles distance to the bog. You pitch you tents for the night and prepare to sleep under the stars - what few can be glimpsed through the leafy green canopy of the wood.
Dolph volunteers for the first shift, when his lack of darkvision might be less of a hindrance.
Morgtii waits for its allies to announce their preference, happy to step into whichever shift suits the group's needs best. If pressed, the little entobian mentions that his bow would probably be most useful in the early morning shift, when the first hints of dawn will allow him to alert the party and engage the enemy from his preferred distance.
Kee-rik has no night shift preference, and he has darkvision.
Aedron doesn't have darkvision, but has no compunctions about taking a night watch anyway. He'll just have to keep a fire and survive the first strike, if they're attacked.
If left to his own devices, he'll take the second watch after Dolph, and let Morgtii have the morning watch.
He keeps his shield on him and his shortsword near while on watch, in any case.
The night in Zaran wood passes without incident and the group breaks camp early the next morning. Before noon the geography begins to change. The deciduous trees of the wood begin to give way to mangroves that grow 40-50 feet tall, their upper branches intertwining to create a dense canopy that blots out the sun. The ground begins to get soggy and scrub choked.
As your group begins to move down a slope into the bog proper, you spy a thin plume of smoke coming from a ramshackle shack just visible through the trees further down. You can make out what appears to be an animal pen adjoining the shack and can make out the occasional distinctive squeal of pigs. Reaching the shack would be about a five minute walk to your left across the face of the slope, or you could choose to ignore it and continue into the swamp.
Dolph looked over at the shack and animal lot. "Want to go say hey and get the gossip on what's been happening in the bog lately? We could hurry over and back and not lose much time, if any."
"Sounds like a plan." Aedron nods, blond curls falling into his face. "We should give them some kind of gift, if we go visiting."
Raidh thanks the elf for her smashing present then smiles a simple welcome to Aedron and introduces herself.
A burly warrior would be welcome...
"I agree, both on the visit-stop AND the gift..."
Raidh thinks quickly but comes up with nothing apart from coin...
"I've an everburning torch I could part with. It's useful, but then it would not be much of a gift if it wasn't, right? I don't mind, but I'll be relying on the rest of you for light."
He starts walking towards the cottage.
The group makes their way towards the shack. Thunk! A crossbow bolt lands in the mddy trail about 8 feet from Aedron's feet. That's far enough yer poxy thieves, a gravely voice calls out from the shack. Any closer an the next one goes through yer beady left eye. 'Sides, nuthin here worth steal'n anywhere so's ye migh as well jus' be gett'in on.
Raidh drops low and moves closer to any available tree.
Why is my left eye beady?
Cupping her hands Raidh calls through them towards the dwelling.
To anyone in the party she mutters:
"And to think we were bringing gifts."