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As far as I can tell, there's no obituary thread for this AP yet... so let's start with something close to a TPK. Name: Riglovik, Fenilan, Alraxia
While the oracle was unconscious, the barbarian became aware of the approaching storm. The 3 conscious PCs decided to look for a shelter for themselves and the refugees. They encountered the dire wolverine and, despite their best efforts, were quickly felled by the abominable damage output of that creature. Using hero points, it was decided that the wolverine encounter actually never happened, because Aubrin finally remembered a hunter's cabin nearby that could provide shelter (area J). And so the 3 heroes have a chance to survive another day... DMs be warned: the dire wolverine is quite dangerous against a group of level 2's...
Greetings, Here is the journal of my character - Akavar Whisperquill - as my group progresses through the Skull and Shackles adventure path. Enjoy! Since I am a player this time around, please make sure not to reveal any spoilers in this thread. :) ---------- Our group is as follows:
---------- About my character:
But it did not last long. Cheliax was in a state of intense turmoil. Akavar’s foster father, an honorable and kind-hearted man, was a member of a faction that opposed the rise of the diabolical House Thrune. Alas, that faction was wiped out over the course of several years. Akavar’s foster father and most the friends he had made among the humans were slain by the troops of House Thrune as it finally took Cheliax within its merciless grasp. Akavar, still very young by elven standards, was forced to become an outlaw to survive. More than a common thief, however, Akavar used his wit (both in the verbal and written form) as an agitator against the rule of House Thrune. He gained a measure of notoriety thanks to the anti-Thrune pamphlets that he circulated in several major cities under his alias “Whisperquill”. That lasted for several decades, but eventually, it became too dangerous for Akavar to remain in Cheliax and keep his head attached to the rest of his body. He sailed north and spent another few decades in Varisia, mostly working as a smuggler around the cities of Riddleport and Korvosa. Recently, his boldness grew and he returned to Cheliax with hopes of reaping big profits from a lucrative smuggling deal. That did not go well: he was caught by the chelaxian authorities and was sentenced to death. Thankfully, on the day when he was supposed to be hanged along with several other pirates and other such miscreants, a surprise attack was launched by the crew of the notorious pirate known as Wide Olga, who was also to be hanged alongside Akavar. The young elf escaped with Wide Olga’s crew as they fled toward the Shackles, seeking to escape the wrath of the chelaxian navy. So it was that Akavar found himself in Port Peril shortly before the start of the campaign. It was his first time there; ironically, he had now returned close to the place of his birth, after being away from it for over a century. Though he had lived as a smuggler for decades, the inhabitants of Port Peril were even worse than the Riddleport crowd that he was used to. Akavar found himself in a tavern called the Formidably Maid one evening, entertaining the crowd with ancient pirate tales, when he was captured by some mysterious strangers…
Hi, As I mentioned in another thread, I created a rumor chart for my CotCT campaign. I choose and/or randomly roll from among the following list to inform my players of rumors they've heard recently. Note that the second columns (T/F) shows whether the rumor is true or false. A skill check (type and DC at the DM's discretion) can tell the player that a false rumor is indeed probably false. Some of these rumors are just reference to entries in the Guide to Korvosa or some of the modules, but can serve to help the PC's discover Korvosa a little more piece by piece. I hope it can be of help to those of you out there running this great campaign! :) # T/F Rumor
After the end of our Savage Tide campaign, my friends and I started play Curse of the Crimson Throne. You will find here the tale of our brand new group of heroes. If you are playing Curse of the Crimson Throne or intend on playing it in the future, please be aware that this thread will contain many spoilers! Also, since my players might be reading this, if you want to post spoiler-y comments or questions, please be sure to put them in spoiler tags. I am the GM this time around. I’ve stayed pretty faithful to the campaign in general, but you will surely find here and there some things that I changed to make it run (in my opinion) more smoothly, to foreshadow events and people from later adventures earlier on, and also to better fit my player’s way of playing and their characters’ identities. I will begin with a brief description of the newest group of Korvosan heroes (more detailed descriptions will follow later): Manius Alazario, Male Chelaxian Fighter, Lawful Neutral.
Kindrasius Edelbark, Male Shoanti Bard/Ranger, Chaotic Neutral.
Hipazia Vipsania Leroung, Female Chelaxian Wizard, Lawful Good.
Kaeso, Male Human (Chelaxian/Varisian mix) Rogue, Chaotic Good.
Zeeva Foxglove, Female Chelaxian Cleric of Pharasma, Neutral Good.
In the case when an animal companion or wildshaped druid attacks a creature that has Damage Reduction that can be overcome by slashing, blunt or piercing weapons (like a skeleton or zombie), I'm wondering how the animal's attacks should be classified. For example, for a bear, I guess the bite would do piercing damage?
Does anyone know of a place where that information is available?
Ah, how fickle the winds of fate can be, especially when they are guided by little multi-sided pieces of colorful plastic. Things were going so well for the brave heroes of Westcrown, the Midnight Roses, as they boldly made their way through the Nessian Spiral. They had defeated every enemy so far (although some, like the succubus Joriavah, had been quite challenging). This group was composed of:
They had shut down all of the cooling chambers... They had managed to diplomatically get past Signatory Vaccha... They began a peaceful discussion with Zovarue the librarian... They were so close to their goal, so close to preventing Liebdaga from escaping... So close, yet so far. They angered the mentally deranged medusa, and she refused to let them pass, preparing to attack.
.... Ouch. Only the cursed rogue, and her sister the deadly ranger remained able to fight while their comrades were turned to stone. Averting her eyes, the ranger shot at the now Displaced medusa, but she missed with all of her arrows not even due to concealment, but simply to some really pathetic attack rolls. Closing her eyes to avoid being petrified, the brave Rogue once again managed, against all odds, to hit the medusa with her cursed pick. It was Zovarue's turn again, and the Ranger caught her gaze by accident (50% chance)... and failed her saving throw against petrification by rolling a 4. Only one heroine remained: the cursed Rogue... Zovarue smiled at her, and cast a Suggestion spell. "Look me in the eyes." she purred. The Rogue opened her eyes and looked straight into the medusa's eyes. ... and rolled a natural 20 for her Fortitude Save. It was now her turn. She ran the HELL out of the room, knowing there was no way she could beat the medusa on her own, especially not with her cursed weapon. ======================== Sounds almost like a TPK, huh? But now I'm wondering what to do to try and salvage my campaign. I think what will happen is that the Rogue will manage to convince Signatory Vaccha (with her +19 in diplomacy) to attack the medusa since she's hindering the agents of the Mayor. If I read his stats correctly, he's immune to the petrification gaze, so he should be able to defeat her. Then, the rogue will try and restore her petrified companions. She still has 4 charges on her wand of Break Enchantment... Will she have time to bring them all back before Liebdaga bursts out of his restraints and destroys a large chunk of Westcrown? We shall see... If you have other suggestions on how to recover from this difficult situation, I would love to read them. Anyway... I hope you all enjoyed this tale of woe.
I'm new to playing a Druid and there are a few things that are unclear to me about what the Druid can and cannot do when taking the shape of an elemental. 1) Communication: is the Druid still able to speak in elemental form? 2) Equipment: as I understand it, the Druid's equipment melds into the new form and becomes unusable. But can the following be done: the Druid in human form gives her backpack containing wands, scrolls, etc to another party member, then shifts to elemental shape, then the other party member hands them their backpack back. Would the elemental be able to wear it?
I'm curious to see how other people handle this in their own games.
INTRODUCTION: MORNING The sun rose slowly; its pale rays crawled lazily over the discarded ruins of the abandoned district of Beldrin’s Bluff. In other parts of the city of Absalom, the living awoke with the coming of the light, yet barely anything moved here. Every morning for the past ten years, the district had been as quiet as a graveyard. Yet today, the morning’s silence was disturbed by the creaking of a heavy wooden door, as the door of a ruined courthouse slowly opened from inside. Two ragged people – their clothes covered in dried blood – painfully limped out of the sinister building, slowly dragging two bodies behind them. They hurried to close the doors of the courthouse behind them, and once they were fully in the light, they fell to their knees. They had reached the very limit of both their physical and mental strength. That night had been, by far, the most horrible of their existence. They had witnessed things that no mortals should ever see, they had been the victims of the vengeful dead, and they had seen their fellow men and women die in the most horrible fashion, one after the other. It was truly a miracle that the two of them had survived, and even then, only by the narrowest of margins. Both of them had almost paid the ultimate price for the sins of a terrible villain. They wished to forget. They wished to erase the dreadful memories of the night from their shattered spirits. They wished never to be left afraid in the dark again. They wished they had never been embroiled in this sordid story at all…
Howl of the Carrion King Fireday, Erastus 17th, 4709 As our adventure starts, the characters have been traveling for about a week on camelback. They were hired by a stoic black-bearded man named Garavel, as mercenaries to serve the merchant-princess Almah Roveshki in retaking the town of Kelmarane in the name of the Pactmasters of Katapesh. About 20 years ago, Kelmarane fell to ruins in sinister and mysterious circumstances, and since then, it’s been a haven of crime for vicious gnoll raiders and slavers. Since it’s affecting the commerce coming from Osirion to the north, the Pactmasters have finally ordered for the town to be reclaimed, and fortified for the safety of merchants traveling throughout the region. At the end of the last day of their journey, the characters finally reached Almah’s caravan, but to their surprise, they found it in a state of pandemonium: one of the wagons of the caravan was burning intensely, and the fire was threatening to burn another nearby wagon as well. A few people were struggling to put out the fire with buckets of water, while others were trying to pull the second wagon away. An old man in priestly robes knelt by two burned victims, but seemed to be having trouble keeping both of them alive. Meanwhile, two middle-aged people, a man and a woman, were running around the camp, desperately trying to calm down the herd of goats and camels that were frantically trying to distance themselves from the inferno. Most of the characters immediately sprang into action, as Garavel himself rushed to help the people trying to put out the fire. A beautiful dark-haired woman, who most likely was Almah herself, looked up toward the group and shouted: “Garavel, thank the heavens you’re here! Please, all of you, help us!” A moment later, the wind blew several Harrow cards from the brightly colored, and now burning, wagon. One of them landed softly on Houshiar’s chest. He picked it up and saw that it depicted a cyclone: the symbol of a destructive force unleashed at the behest of an intelligent being. Fawzy hurried to help Garavel and Almah with the water buckets. Meanwhile, Kelonis rushed to help the old priest to tend to the wounded. Toba also went with him, but he yelled at her that she wasn’t needed there, and ordered her to go help the people trying to move the second wagon out of the way. The dwarf obediently went to help the four burly mercenaries who were pulling at the cart. No matter how hard they tried, they seemed unable to make it bulge. At first, Toba merely helped them, being too shy to ask them to give her the main pulling position, even though she guessed she was stronger than any of them. But after a few unsuccessful attempts to pull the cart away, she realized that the flames were getting dangerously close, and panic aroused her anger. With a yell, she rudely shoved the mercenary leader out of the way, making him fall down in the dirt. For a moment, the dwarf and the man glared at each other threateningly, but the man soon got back on his feet and ordered the others to help Toba. They pulled, and pulled, and pulled again, but alas, even the five of them were unable to pull out the wagon in time… and it eventually caught fire. Bitter and ashamed, Toba and the four mercenaries hurried away from the flames before it consumed them as well. On his side, Houshiar hurried to help keep control of the rampaging animals. With three Color Spray spells, he was able to bring four of the beasts unconscious, which helped the old couple. Meanwhile, Abdelmotaleb stayed back and watched the events. He had been hired to kill gnolls, after all, not to douse flames. He felt no inclination to help these strangers. While he observed the scene, he noticed a feral-looking man dressed in leather and fur who also watched the rescue operation from behind a tent. Eventually, the flames were all extinguished, and calm fell once again upon the camp. However, the mood was grim: two wagons had been lost, and a man had perished inside the first one. Almah said that his name had been Eloais, a Varisian fortune teller under her employ. Garavel introduced the characters to Almah, and she asked them to join her in her tent. However, Toba was nowhere to be seen. Fawzy went looking for her and found her behind a tent, with fresh tears on her cheeks. She had been crying, because she felt she had failed Sarenrae by letting the second wagon burn, and by letting anger get the best of her as she had roughly pushed the mercenary leader to the side. But she had then been approached by the mysterious stranger Abdelmotaleb had seen. This man, named Dashki, consoled Toba and told her not to cry: crying was for the weak. And the weak did not survive in this land. Once the group was all inside Almah’s tent, she explained her suspicion that the fire had been deliberately set, and that the culprit was likely a member of her expedition. She said that the companions were the only ones she could trust, as they had not been present at the time. Houshiar was quick to point out a flaw in her reasoning: he could’ve cast a Fireball spell from a great distance and started the blaze. This statement, which came only minutes after the little gnome had clumsily tried to trick Almah into thinking he was a master fortune teller, seemed to sow great distrust in the young woman’s mind, and she firmly but politely asked Houshiar to leave the tent while she talked to the rest of the group. The gnome left, somewhat crestfallen, and looked around the camp. Hadrod, the middle-aged cattle handler, was in tears at the loss of his precious goat Rombard, and his wife, Hadrah, asked Houshiar if he and his group could do anything to try and find the animal. The brave wizard decided to venture into the falling twilight in this deadly, gnoll-infested frontier region to try, single-handedly, and having already used all of his most powerful spells, to retrieve Rombard. Meanwhile, Almah asked the rest of the group to conduct an investigation to try and discover who had started the fire. She described the various members of her expedition, explaining that they had recently rescued the town of Thricehill, which had been controlled by vicious gnolls. Although they had been victorious, and had freed the citizens, it had come at a high price. Several members of the mercenary band had died, What’s more, the first group of adventurers she had hired, the Lions of Senara, had fought over the gnolls' loot with the mercenary leader, Haidar Yunan. It had taken all of Almah’s diplomacy to prevent things from getting to blows between the two groups of warriors. Eventually, the Lions of Senara, led by a warrior named Andrus, had gone to Kelmarane alone to try and scout it out, but they had disappeared some weeks ago. Almah feared they were all dead. She had dispatched Garavel to Solku in great haste to try and hire some more mercenaries. Almah had been given the mission of retaking Kelmarane by the Pactmasters themselves: failure was not an option! The group accepted to act as investigators, and visited Father Zastoran first. He was a friendly old priest of Nethys, the god of magic, who lived in a wagon where he kept a large set of alchemical tools and many potions secured in a heavy chest. They learned that he had worked for Almah for a long time, and had mixed feelings about the late Eloais. However, he seemed to have an alibi, which also indicated that none of Haidar’s mercenaries had set the blaze. He distrusted Dashki, who had been hired as a “gnoll expert” by Almah. Father Zastoran knew that the feral man lusted after Almah and frequently spied on her. Since Almah had spent so much time with Eloais, it seemed quite likely that Dashki would’ve grown jealous of the fortune teller. The next step for the group was then to scan the entire caravan with a Detect Magic spell from Kelonis. They wanted to see if anyone was surrounded by an aura of enchantment, but the only magic they found was some abjuration on Garavel (most likely due to the strange bolt in his head, the Pactmasters’ favor), and some magical items on Haidar and Dashki. The companions then visited Dashki, whom they found lurking in a remote corner of the camp. Abdelmotaleb finally recognized him as a person from his old village, who had also been captured and mistreated by the gnolls. Dashki told them that he and his father had also escaped the gnolls of the Three Jaws tribe, and had become gnoll hunters. However, his father had later been killed by gnolls. Like Abdelmotaleb, he seemed to harbor a strong hatred of gnolls. When confronted about the fire, Dashki immediately went on the defensive, loudly claiming his innocence. However, several members of the group strongly suspected that he was lying. When questioned more thoroughly, and with some intimidation from Toba, he said he suspected that the crime had been committed by Pugwampis, small jackal-like humanoids which the group thought were merely old wives’ tales. However, when Abdelmotaleb examined the tracks around the burned wagon, he was forced to admit that there truly were some small jackal’s tracks around it. Could Dashki be telling the truth?? The adventurers informed Almah of this course of events, and with Dashki, they went into the night, following the tracks of these so-called Pugwampis… Meanwhile, the mercenaries gathered in the middle of the camp and boisterously sang the chorus to an old army song… “We didn't start the fire
1 - Burnt Offerings
What we especially liked : - Sandpoint: The town is wonderfully detailed and feels really alive. There is just the right amount of details, and the NPC’s are interesting. It serves its purpose as a base that the PC’s will care about. It’s easy for the DM to make fun things happen in Sandpoint with the info that’s given. - The whole "Late Unpleasantness" background was amazing… it put an intriguing atmosphere right from the start. - Very cool villains with lots of potential for role-play (especially Tsuto and Nualia). - The goblins are fun enemies to fight, with the silly things they do. - The several events that are described to introduce the PC’s to Sandpoint (Aldern’s hunt, the goblin in the closet, Shayliss, etc.) are of tremendous help to the DM to help bring the place to life, from the very start of the adventure. Honestly, it’s this more than anything that made me want to DM this campaign. I really love this kind of stuff, both as a DM and as a player. - The map of the hinterlands around Sandpoint, and the other locations, was excellent. Even though the locations weren’t described in detail, there was enough information to create side-quests, if needed, and to give the player the sense that the world was alive and that there was more to it than just what he saw within the confines of the adventure. - The catacombs of wrath (cool and creepy), the glassworks and Thistletop were very interesting locations to make the adventure in. - The investigation to uncover Nualia’s plot was very interesting, by finding, fighting, questioning Tsuto and reading his journal and interacting with him. - Erylium was a very interesting encounter. She’s above the competencies of the characters to deal with, so they have to be creative (but the encounter’s not too damaging either, so they don’t get destroyed while they figure out what to do). - Once the campaign was over, and my player was browsing through the modules, he stopped at the picture of Thistletop and how it’s shaped like the head of Karzoug’s statue, and thought it was really cool! (the PC’s never noticed this in-game). - The ecology of Thistletop was interesting: that the Tentamort was eating goblins and they were afraid of it. The dungeon was still being explored by Nualia: there were still mysteries in the dungeon even to her. - The mystery around the Sihedron rune was fun (this goes for the first 3 adventures). - I loved the zombies in the pits of the catacombs: reminded me of a scene in “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward”. - The player loved the fact that there was a side-quest to free the horse Shadowmist: he thinks it’s good to have such side-quests in an adventure. - It’s cool that the followers of Nualia were so well fleshed-out. - The rumors about the Sandpoint Devil are a nice addition to the adventure, especially since the players are not even meant to encounter this monster. It remains a mystery. It’s good that there are red herrings like this (makes the world feel more complex, alive). Some things that didn’t work out so well: - I wasn’t too keen on the PC’s being heroes right after killing a few goblins. I would’ve preferred if they had stayed “nobodies” for a bit longer, and only became appreciated by the town after proving themselves. Since they reach the status of “heroes” just after killing a few goblins, for the rest of the AP, even though they kill more dangerous and epic enemies, they were already “capped out” in heroism from the start. Maybe I should’ve changed that. - It would have been nice if the remains of Mr. Stoot’s house had been described at least a little bit, as it seems a likely place for the PC’s to visit upon hearing about the Late Unpleasantness. I only learned about the Pazuzu statue months later on the boards, alas. Most memorable fights of the adventure:
- The series of quick fights when the PC's infiltrated the Thistletop stockade by a mixture of stealth, force and cunning. - The one against Nualia, Lyrie, one Yeth Hound, Orik and Bruthazmus.
I see that there are five main languages spoken in Katapesh. I'm wondering if that's going to have any effect on the Legacy of Fire campaign, for groups with characters from diverse racial backgrounds. Is it assumed that the Legacy of Fire adventure path will take place mostly in Common, i.e., that every group member speaks at least Common, and that most NPC's will also speak Common? For example, if a player makes a Keleshite character with no intelligence bonus, does the character only speak Kellish? That would make his life a bit difficult if nobody else in the group speaks that tongue. :) Or does everyone get Common as a bonus language in addition to their race's main language (if it's not Common)?
I'm struggling with the geography in this adventure. Two rivers are mentioned: the Pashman River, which is close to Lopul, and the Shat-al-Qadr River, which the PC's approach at the end of the adventure. Looking at the world map in the PF Chronicles, I see three rivers going through Qadira: a forking one to the north, near Zimar; a middle one that passes near Katheer; and one to the south that starts near Sedeq. Which of these is the Pashman River, and which is the Shat-al-Qadr River? And where is Lopul, roughly? Does anyone know? --------- Another question is about the Taldor faction objectives, it states that they get a PA if they can cover up Gaspar's involvement. I just have trouble imagining how on earth they would be able to do that. It's really out in the open, everyone's aware of it. They might bribe Jamila into keeping quiet, but if there are members of rival factions within the group, they would surely spread the word. How lenient should I be in considering that the player(s) have "covered it up"?
In Rise of the Runelords, many of the enemies the PCs defeat are larger than medium size. I'm wondering how to handle the magical loot that the PC's get from those creatures. Which of those items can the PC's use? In the d20 SRD, I see it says:
When an article of magic clothing or jewelry is discovered, most of the time size shouldn’t be an issue. Many magic garments are made to be easily adjustable, or they adjust themselves magically to the wearer. Size should not keep characters of various kinds from using magic items. There may be rare exceptions, especially with racial specific items. Armor and Weapon Sizes Armor and weapons that are found at random have a 30% chance of being Small (01-30), a 60% chance of being Medium (31-90), and a 10% chance of being any other size (91-100)." This is somewhat contradictory: why do we care what size the armors and weapons are if all items magically resize to fit the new wearer? Unless of course, this last part implies that all magical items _except weapons and armor_ resize. Which is also a bit confusing, because even within a given size, there's quite a large variance. For example, a 6'6", 300 lbs man and a 5'0", 90 lbs woman are both Medium size and theoretically should be able to wear the same armor... Which doesn't really make sense unless there is some magical resizing involved. If there's absolutely zero magical resizing for armor, it also somewhat forces the DM to keep track of the dimensions of every NPC that the PC's loot in the campaign. Also, it means that magical items of Large and larger size would most likely not be worth much at all if one tried to sell them to human merchants: what are the odds that the merchant would be able to sell that weapon or armor to anyone afterwards? Of course a simple answer is: "you're the DM, just do as you want", but I'm curious to see how this is handled by other DM's, and if by design, it's expected that the loot that PC's obtain from Larger-than-Medium foes throughout RotRL is assumed to be stuff that they can actually use, or at least sell at a decent price.
I'm going over the map of Magnimar and the description of the various districts and I am a bit puzzled by a few things: #11, Dockway: the text description mentions "... the seaside district of Dockway", but on the map, #11 is in the middle of the city, nowhere near the coast. #14, The Marches: "The entrance to Magnimar for many traders and travelers...", this seems to me more like a district that should be next to a city gate. #15, Beacon's Point: the name and description of the district seem to be describing what is listed as #14 on the map (which even has a big circle that looks like a lighthouse), but again, this district is in the middle of the city. I wonder if a few of the numbers on the map are wrong. It seems to me that maybe it should be more like:
Does that seem reasonable to everyone? I hate to be a pain. I'm just trying to understand if I'm completely missing something or what... :) By the way, I only have access to the hardcopy version of the adventure. I don't know if this is also the case in the pdf version.
Fireday, Rova 19th, 4707 The caravan A small caravan of three wagons was slowly making its way west, toward the town of Sandpoint. They had left a remote outpost of woodsmen, rangers and Desna-worshipping priests about ten days ago. Despite the offerings they’d made to Desna before leaving, the trip had been arduous, mostly due to the heavy rains that had made the paths muddy. Just yesterday, one of the wagons had gotten deeply stuck in mud, and it had been a difficult and dirty task to get it out of there. Now, all of the travelers were quite eager to reach Sandpoint, wash up and spend a night in a warm, comfortable bed. But Navan Attaway didn’t complain. A Varisian treasure-hunter in his late twenties, he was used to the harsh life of a traveler. He had been in Sandpoint before, about six years ago. He’d left it rather hastily at the time, because he’d gotten involved with a local girl named Solrana Vigandir, and then dumped her, and her two big brothers had wanted to beat him up. But surely that unfortunate incident would be forgotten by now… Navan’s companion Ruh, a gnome wizardess who was dressed like a tiny Varisian gipsy, was looking forward to visiting Sandpoint. A scholar and an avid explorer of Varisia, she was always eager to find “new” “old ruins” (Navan often chuckled at the oxymoron) of Thassilonian origin. She’d heard that such a ruin called the Old Light lay near Sandpoint, and she’d been bugging Navan for a long time to go and take a look at it. They’d been traveling together for more than two years, for protection, and because they both shared ancient knowledge and that passion for exploration. Right now, Ruh was driving the last wagon of the convoy. The first one carried four rugged-looking Varisian men who were returning to Sandpoint. Their leader, a colorful character named Jubrayl Vhiski, had apparently purchased a very important item at the ranger outpost. The nature of this item had, of course, remained a secret. The second wagon contained a Varisian couple, and one of their relatives. While Ruh was driving, Navan was dozing inside the wagon, along with their third companion, a massive half-orc ranger named Drithnar. The two men had been drinking late in the night while they were “standing watch” the previous night. During the trip, Ruh and Navan had grown quite close to the ranger. Drithnar was an orphan who’d been found on the steps of the Sandpoint church about 22 years ago. He’d been taken in by the kind town priests, and raised in the Turandarok academy. Of course, his childhood had been awkward at times, because he was shunned by some people due to his unsightly appearance, but overall, the people of Sandpoint treated him fairly and kindly. But about six years ago, Drithnar left Sandpoint to follow his wanderlust and explore the wilderness. He’d been trained by a skilled elven ranger named Shalelu Andosana, and he planned on seeking her out after he’d rested for a few days in Sandpoint. But as the previous day’s evening wore on and he got drunker, Drithnar also revealed to Navan that he had a special reason for returning to Sandpoint: as a teenager, he’d fallen madly in love with an incredibly beautiful woman named Nualia. She was an Aasimar with silver hair and purple eyes, also an orphan like him. Although she was a few years older than him, they’d been raised by the same people and went to the same school, although of course she never seemed to notice Drithnar very much, as she seemed to be burdened by the problems that her own unusual appearance and origin brought upon her. One day, Drithnar had finally found the resolve to reveal his true feelings to Nualia, but at the last moment, he realized that she’d already fallen in love with someone else: Drithnar’s best mate, a clever, charismatic and handsome young Varisian named Delek. Drithnar was overcome with feelings of jealousy, which only increased in intensity over the following weeks, and culminated to a crisis when he learned a few months later that Nualia had fallen pregnant. That night, Drithnar felt an unusually strong rage seethe inside his mind; but he heroically manage to keep it under control, and to prevent himself from hurting any of the people he cared about, he fled Sandpoint in secret that same night. The thought of being near Delek or anyone who was linked to Nualia was by then unbearable. But over the past six years, Drithnar had matured and now saw these past events in perspective. Though he was still haunted every night by visions of the beautiful Nualia, he knew that their union could never be. He was just a foul creature by nature, and had no business being with a woman as beautiful and as pure as her. And he was now happy for Nualia and for his old friend Delek; he wished them only the best and was looking forward to seeing them again in Sandpoint, along with their kids. The ambush Further down the road, the way was blocked by a massive fallen tree. A deep forest lay to the left, and a wide river flowed to the right. As some of Jubrayl’s men were getting down from the first wagon to go examine the fallen tree, a few men climbed over it, and drew some weapons menacingly. They were dirty and their gear was in a bad shape: they were obviously bandits. Their leader, a short bearded Chelaxian man, looked at the travelers and grinned wickedly. “Well, well, what have we here? Some of that Varisian scum. You’re obviously experienced travelers, so I’m sure you know the drill. You put all your valuables down here, and we won’t kill you.” Then it was Jubrayl’s turn to grin. He replied in common, with a heavy Varisian accent. “That is very good proposal. Unfortunately, I am afraid I need to ask you to… How you say in Common? Ah, yes… Go f*** yourself.” And with this, the battle started. Ruh shouted for Navan and Drithnar to come out of the wagon. She cast an orb of cold at a running bandit. Drithnar came out of the back of the wagon, shouting a battle-cry, and buried his battle-axe deep inside a bandit’s chest. Navan, hiding behind the curtain at the back of a wagon, aimed his crossbow carefully at a brigand who was trying to attack Drithnar from behind, and shot him in the eye, killing him instantly. He then came out of the wagon and took a look at the situation. Jubrayl and his men were fighting a group of bandits at the front of the caravan. The merchants in the second wagon were fighting two more bandits, and there were two archers in the trees, who were firing on them. Around that time, Ruh and Navan both got badly wounded by some of those archer’s arrows, but they also managed to take down both of the swordsmen who were attacking the second wagon. Then they took cover under their own wagon, and from this covered position, Navan managed to shoot down one of the archers hiding in a tree. Drithnar spotted the other one, ran up to his tree, climbed it with great agility, and buried his axe deeply into the surprised man’s skull, felling him in one blow. Then the fight was over. Jubrayl’s men had also been victorious, though one of their numbers was dead, and another was badly wounded. The two merchant women were also badly wounded, as were Ruh and Navan. With no healers in the caravan, it was obvious that they had even more reason to reach Sandpoint soon. Jubrayl, speaking in Varisian (which everyone except Drithnar understood) congratulated everyone for a good fight, and led the way in the age-old Varisian tradition of honoring the dead souls by relieving them from the burden of their material possessions. Mostly coin…Navan smirked, because Drithnar had told him previously that he strongly suspected Jubrayl and his men to be part of the Sczarni, an organization of Varisian thugs operating in Sandpoint. Starday, Rova 20th, 4707 Arrival in Sandpoint The next day, around mid-afternoon, the weary travelers finally arrived in sight of the beautiful town of Sandpoint. As they passed the mirror and the welcome sign, they noticed that it read: “Welcome to Sandpoint! Please stop to see yourself as we see you.” They indeed stopped, and Drithnar took a few moments to look at his ugly mug in the mirror. He then asked his reflection in a threatening voice: “You talkin’ to me? Are you talkin’ to me???” They entered from the North gate, and beheld the magnificent new cathedral. Drithnar was very surprised to see it, as well as all of the new constructions in the north part of town. He wondered why all those buildings had been rebuilt since he left. Ruh was also very excited to see, in the distance, the silhouette of the Old Light, though she felt too tired and hurt at the moment to go examine it just yet. The three wagons then separated, having different destinations within town. They bid each other farewell for now, knowing they’d run into each other again in town anyway. Drithnar led his companions south through the streets of Sandpoint toward their destination: the Rusty Dragon inn. This is where they had to deliver their cargo. The town was busy, with many villagers walking the streets. There was an atmosphere of elation in the air. The strange trio attracted a few looks, but not that many: people of Sandpoint were used to seeing many different kinds of travelers. The Late Unpleasantness Finally, the wagon came to a stop in front of the Rusty Dragon. The innkeeper came out with a few servants to help the characters unload the goods. She was a beautiful, exotic-looking petite woman with a strange twin-pigtailed hairdo. She welcomed the characters and introduced herself as Ameiko Kaijitsu. Navan and Ruh had never seen such a woman, nor heard such a name before, in all their travels. While Drithnar and the servants continued to unload the goods, Ameiko brought Navan and Ruh inside and offered them some drinks. Noticing their wounds, the charismatic innkeeper asked them about their trip, but as the two were somewhat tired and tight-lipped, she did most of the talking. She told them about the next day’s Swallowtail Festival to inaugurate the newly built cathedral. Seeing that they didn’t know much about Sandpoint, Ameiko told them the tale of the Late Unpleasantness that had plagued the town five years ago, how the serial killer named Chopper had killed 25 of the villagers (including Ameiko’s own mother), and the Church’s burning had led to the building of this new cathedral. Drithnar was by then at the table with them, and was surprised to hear that such dire events had happened mere weeks after his departure (actually, after he thought about it some more, Chopper’s murders happened mere days after his departure…). Ameiko informed him that Father Tobyn, the local priest, and his adopted daughter Nualia had perished in the Church’s fire, and Drithnar’s eyes widened in shock. His fist clenched around his ale mug. He started to shake. It was as if his whole world was crumbling around him like a house of cards. Ameiko also revealed that Nualia had suffered a miscarriage not long before the fire, and that her lover Delek had left her behind as soon as he’d heard she was pregnant, and hadn’t been since in Sandpoint since then. This was too much for Drithnar. He excused himself in a choked voice, and rushed out of the inn. Ruh, concerned for her friend, ran out after him. By then, a small crowd of villagers had gathered around Ameiko and Navan’s table, because Ameiko had a lot of flair for story-telling. Navan still felt some goose bumps from her tale of Chopper’s rampage. In a whisper, she also told Navan what she’d been afraid to reveal to the already distraught Drithnar: a rumor that Nualia’s stillborn child had been horribly deformed, despite both of his parent’s healthy good looks. Navan also learned that Ameiko had lived as an adventurer for about a year, and guessed from her appearance and charisma that she was skilled as a Bard. That career choice had not sat well with Ameiko’s father, a strict, no-nonsense businessman who was the head of one of Sandpoint’s four ruling merchant families, and the owner of the local glassmaking factory. Missed opportunity Later in the evening, Ruh and Drithnar ate at the Rusty Dragon. The companions had all rented rooms there for the night. Drithnar had recovered his spirits somewhat, but was still under the shock of realizing that the woman he’d loved for a decade, and whom he’d pictured as happily living with his best friend for the past six years, had actually been dead for most of that time. Ruh tried to cheer him up during the meal, without much success. However, at some point, Drithnar did get his spirits lifted a little bit: he got distracted by the sight of a gorgeous, scantily-clad woman walking across the inn’s main room. She had long white hair, and her skin was covered in strange blue tattoos. Drithnar was staring at her like an idiot, with his mouth hanging open. The beautiful woman sat down at a table next to them, and started talking with her companions: a ruggedly handsome man drinking from an ornate silver mug; a tall, thin white-haired elven woman dressed in leather; and a tan-skinned woman dressed in outlandish, flowing robes, and carrying a scimitar at her belt. They obviously looked like adventurers. The four wondered out loud whether they should stay in Sandpoint or look for adventure elsewhere. It seemed to them that Sandpoint was just too quiet to have any possibility of adventure for them. Eventually, the beautiful tattooed woman flipped a coin, and fate told them to seek their fortunes elsewhere. They decided to leave the following morning.
:) Great-grand-aunt Niska Meanwhile, Navan had gone to visit his 92-year-old great-grand-aunt, Niska Mvashti. He found her in her ancient manor, and she invited him for dinner. She was stooped with age, and walked around with a cane, with some difficulty. But her mind still seemed sharp. She healed Navan’s arrow wound with a spell; from what he knew, she was an old shaman of their people. She gave him more information about the town. Sandpoint had been built 42 years ago by four ruling families, the Kaijitsus (glassmakers), the Scarnettis (logging), the Valdemars (ship builders), and the Deverins (farmers and brewers). She spat as she spoke of the Scarnetti, who had caused much trouble to the Varisians over the years. Overall, Niska seemed quite set in her ways, and not too fond of anyone who wasn’t a Varisian. And unlike Ameiko, who had told the tale of the Late Unpleasantness with some obvious emotional attachment to those who had perished, Niska talked about it all in a very manner-of-fact tone, as if she didn’t care much about the other citizens of Sandpoint. After dinner was over, Niska read the Tarot cards for young Navan. Three cards in particular came out with a strong omen:
Navan questioned her more about the Late Unpleasantness, and she said she didn’t know what the bird-faced idol found under Chopper’s house represented, but reminded him that there were countless mysteries in the Varisian land, dating back to the old empires. For example, nobody knew for sure the origin of the seven standing stones at the center of the town’s cathedral. Talking more about Chopper, Navan learned that a local girl had gone insane after seeing her mother being murdered by the serial killer. She had been sent to an asylum by her family, but had recently returned to Sandpoint and, strangely enough, entered the city guard. Niska didn’t remember her name, but said she was easy to recognize: she was the only female guard, and wielded a massive Earthbreaker. Ironically, she’d been very close to Mr. Stoot (the man later known as “Chopper’) before he killed her mother. Perhaps she had some insight on what strange cult he might have been part of. Navan then bid his grandmother good-night and went to sleep at the inn. Sunday, Rova 21st 4707 The Swallowtail Festival The companions slept late the next morning, despite being woken up early by the church’s loud bells. When they went down to have a quick breakfast, they saw that the ground floor of the Rusty Dragon was a flurry of frantic activity. Cooks and servants were preparing food and decorations to be brought to the festival square near the cathedral. Ameiko, dressed in a splendid green and gold gown, was directing them like a general leading an army. A bit before noon, the three characters went to pick up Madam Mvashti (she’d asked for Navan’s help to walk her there). She reluctantly healed Ruh’s wound, as though she didn’t seem to approve of her nephew’s choice of non-human companions. It was a warm, sunny day. The festival square was beautifully decorated, and several long tables were set, with the local tavern keepers and innkeepers and their staff setting up the food and plates for lunch. Sweet aromas filled the air, and the sound of laughing children was everywhere, as the little ones were running around, playing. The sounds of merriment died down as Mayor Kendra Deverin walked up on stage and asked for everyone’s attention. She was a short-haired woman in her mid-thirties, with a shrewd, but kind look. She eloquently welcomed everyone to the feast, especially greeting the newcomers to Sandpoint. She talked about the cathedral and how it was designed as a tribute to Sandpoint’s six patron gods: Desna, Shelyn, Erastil, Abadar, Gozreh and Sarenrae, and how she hoped they would keep on watching over Sandpoint in the coming years. She also made a few inside-jokes that only locals understood. Next on stage was Sheriff Belor Hemlock, a powerfully built Shoanti man dressed in a shining breastplate, armed with a longsword and a shield. In a deep, somber voice, he asked everyone to behave well and be mindful of the bonfire that would be lit in the evening. He also asked for a minute of silence for the souls of those who had perished during the Late Unpleasantness five years before. From the corner of her eyes, Ruh saw that Drithnar looked particularly grim as he thought of his beloved Nualia. Then a tall, elegant man in his forties came up on stage. He had long salt-and-pepper hair, and a thin mustache. He introduced himself as Cyrdak Drokkus, owner of the Sandpoint theater. He spoke about the construction of the cathedral, and how it had been funded. His speech was mostly humoristic in nature, and he lifted the mood after the Sheriff’s sad reminders. Before leaving, Cyrdak also mentioned the “Harpy’s Curse” play, which would play most evenings of the following week at the Sandpoint theater, starring the wonderful diva from Magnimar, Allishanda. Last on stage was the head of the Sandpoint cathedral, father Abstalar Zantus. Though priests of the six religions were present at the foot of the stage, those of Desna were the most numerous, and Zantus himself proudly wore her butterfly symbol attached to his cloak. Zantus was a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and a short beard, and spoke in a gentle voice. He told the Fable of Desna, and invoked her blessing on the town and on today’s celebrations. Then he gestured to some of his acolytes, who brought forth a covered wagon, from which they freed thousands of beautiful Swallowtail butterflies, which flew up in all directions. As children were running around, trying to catch the tiny creatures, a murmur came over the crowd when people noticed that four butterflies had landed on some of the onlookers: a good omen, as such people were thought to be blessed by Desna herself. Strangely, three of those people blessed were the companions: Navan, Drithnar and Ruh (who had the butterfly land on the tip of her nose). The fourth blessed person was a tall, shapely young woman with dark hair and a beautiful face. She was dressed in a tight-fitting suit of black studded leather armor, and wielded a heavy-looking earthbreaker over one shoulder. Navan noticed the insignia of the Sandpoint watch pinned to her armor, and immediately understood that she was the “crazy girl” that his great-grand-aunt had told him about. For a brief moment, Navan’s eyes met the young woman’s; she gave him a shy little smile, and looked away. Father Zantus then announced, much to rumbling-stomach Drithnar’s relief, that the feast was now to start! The companions made their way among the various tables laden with goods from the various establishments. They sampled the White Deer’s peppercorn venison, and the Hagfish tavern’s lobster chowder. But the most popular dish was definitely the Rusty Dragon’s curry-spiced salmon. Drithnar devoured several plates full of the delicious dish by himself. Savoring her victory just as the townspeople were savoring her food, little Ameiko gave a very smug smile to the scowling owner of the White Deer inn, a large Shoanti man who bore a strong resemblance to Sheriff Hemlock. The afternoon was pleasant. The characters met many townsfolk, talked and laughed. They heard lots of stories, including many rumors, ranging from the Sheriff’s secret love affair with the madam of the local brothel, to the tales of a terrible monster called the Sandpoint Devil, lurking around in the night, killing cattle and sometimes even people. Several times, Navan looked back toward the beautiful female guard. He thought she looked familiar, and later, he understood why: she stood with a group of people who seemed to be her family. He recognized one of the women in that group as his old flame, Solrana. She carried a baby in her arms, and another young child was hugging her legs. As the sun was starting to set, the female guard came to greet the players. She introduced herself as Kerista Vigandir. She had a kind look in her eyes and seemed a little shy. With a smile, she welcomed Drithnar back to Sandpoint. The half-orc stared at her, surprised. Of all the people they’d met so far, she was the only one who remembered him. Ironically, he didn’t remember her. Kerista said she remembered him from school, but that they hadn’t played with each other because he was always with the older kids. She then turned to Navan and told him not to worry, that her sister didn’t remember him. This also surprised Navan: how could she remember him after all these years? He only very vaguely recalled that Solrana had a much younger sister, but he’d never paid her much attention, as she was barely more than a child back then. He guessed that she must now be around 18 years old. As he looked at her, he remembered what his great-grand-aunt had said about her insanity. While she didn’t sound like a raving lunatic, there was certainly something odd about her demeanor… She seemed to know more than she should, as if she had an unnaturally good memory and insight on people, and spoke in a very blunt and naive manner. Their discussion was cut short by the ringing of bells marking the setting of the sun. They all turned toward the stage, where father Zantus was preparing another speech. He cleared his throat, but before he could speak, a commotion broke at the back of the crowd. A few screams erupted, and to their horror, the characters saw a stray dog getting its throat sliced by a small dark creature. A strange rhyme sung by high-pitched shrill voices filled the air, as a pack of goblins tore into the panicked crowd. “Goblins chew and goblins bite.
Goblins race and goblins jump.
Chase the baby, catch the pup.
The first game starts during the evening in the Azure District. Belessa and Raguhl both live in small apartments in the same building of this relatively poor neighborhood. Tarsakh 1st, 1375 I spent the evening downstairs, at Raguhl’s. He’d invited me to celebrate his birthday. I was surprised to see that he’d also invited the rest of the people who’d fought by our side in that little village, when the animals had been driven wild and attacked us a few days ago. Tyria Bramblefoot, the little Halfling fence, was there, and she seemed to be conducting some business transaction with Sparkilo Rashi, the arrogant and pampered son of a rich elven family – who had shown some skill with magic during the fight. Again, he looked like he’d spent a lot of time grooming in front of his mirror. The light reflecting on the fake gems of his tiara was almost blinding me. That tall ranger was also there – Kanyakumari – though he didn’t say much all evening. And there was that little ferret Lagaan, too. The food and drinks Raguhl had to offer us in his dingy little apartment were quite plain. I could see that Sparkie clearly felt they were below his standards, and he mumbled a half-assed excuse to leave early. I asked him to stay, only to prolong his discomfort. He then rambled on about his own birthday and how fantastic his parents would make it – like the hundred and one birthdays he’d had prior to that. I smiled at this, because he also works at the Dawn Council, like me, and I’ve heard that his parents are actually just trying to politely get him out of the house. During the evening, we also realized that we’d all received the same letter from Kora Whistlegap, a servant of the Vanderboren family. Apparently, they have a tricky task they need us to do – sounds like they heard that the six of us managed to control the situation back in that stinking little village a few days ago. So it looks like we’re all going to dine together again at the Vanderboren manor! A definite improvement from Raguhl’s hole. The letter didn’t say what they want to talk to us about. But Raguhl told us that the family leaders, Verik and Larissa, had died about a month ago when one of their ships burned down. I learned that Raguhl himself had been a servant of that house until recently – to pay back a debt of honor he had to them for saving him and taking him away from the distant island where he’d been born. He still seemed pretty shaken up about their deaths. After that, the party got even lamer, so I headed upstairs and went to bed. Tarsakh 2nd, 1375 I left work early today to get ready for the dinner at the Vanderborens. I took a boat to the Merchant District and walked to their manor. It was a beautiful gothic three-storey building, adorned with gargoyles and statues of capering nymphs along the roof. The wall all around the property kept it private from the hubbub of the hectic Merchant District. This is a nice place to live in. Nicer than my miserable little hole in the Azure District. This is the kind of place I should be living in! It was already dark by the time I got there. A servant let me in and directed me to the dining hall. I took some time to look around as I made my way there. The place was beautifully decorated. The Vanderborens obviously had good taste, and they had decorations from many different parts of the world. They must have been quite wealthy. As I passed by a gorgeous gold-framed mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself. I thought I’d made myself look good back in my apartment, but now, in the middle of the noble manor’s elegant splendor, although I’d done a great job with my hair, I found that my dress looked cheap, plain and too revealing. It is so frustrating that I can’t even afford decent clothing with the pathetic amount of money I get paid for serving at the Dawn Council! I hope we’ll be able to get more assignments from the Vanderborens to leech some of their money. I really need to at least get a decent wardrobe again. Oh, I had such gorgeous gowns back in Starmantle! I shook myself out of admiring my own reflection and made my way to the door. Just as I got there, it opened, and I found myself facing what looked like a group of adventurers. There was a half-elf dressed in leather armor and carrying a sash with many daggers. Next to him were a dark-skinned dwarf in robes, carrying a spear, and a chubby woman in purple robes, with a moon-shaped tattoo on one of her cheeks. I didn’t recall seeing them in the city before. For a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. Then the two men stepped back to let me pass, but the fat b+$@+ kept standing there, trying to look scary. Finally, a fourth adventurer showed up behind her. He was tall and handsome. He wore a polished breastplate and carried a bastard sword on his back. He asked the cow to step aside to let me pass. I curtsied and winked to him as I entered the dining room. They left and closed the door behind them. I saw that Raguhl, Lagaan and the others were already there. We were led into another room by the servant Kora (why did she have to have that stupid name?...) It was also beautifully furnished. A portrait on the wall showed a handsome bearded man, whom Raguhl told me was Vanthus, the son of the late Vanderborens. We met the current head of the house, Vanthus’ older sister, Lavinia. She was a pretty girl, maybe twenty-two years old, with brown hair and an innocent expression. She looked sad and had a damsel-in-distress anxiety about her. If she’s as inexperienced as she looks, I think we’ll be able to milk her for a lot of money. She told us that the group of adventurers I’d just met is called the Jade Ravens, and she’d sent them to the city of Cauldron to beg one of her uncles for money. Their leader, the handsome man, was called Talyn Kirtie. Lagaan also told me later that he knows the half-elf rogue. His name is Zan Oldavyn and he’s a bastard. It turns out that Lavinia’s parents were actually pretty terrible at managing the estate’s finances. They left their kids some pretty hefty debts to take care of. Sadly for poor little Lavinia, both the signet rings they owned, which allow access to the family vaults under the castle, were lost. The only one she might have gotten her hands on was on their last remaining ship, the Blue Nixie, which was moored on the northern docks of the Merchant District. The innocent little girl, though, had naively paid the 100 platinum pieces’ docking fees to Soller Vark, a ruffian working for the harbormaster, without any witnesses to back her up. So obviously, when she later came back to claim the ship, Vark simply said he never received the payment, and the Harbormaster denied Lavinia access to her own ship – which ironically contains the signet which would allow her to access the vaults for the money to pay, again, the docking fees, this time with a witness. So little Lavinia offered the six of us 200 gold pieces each to get back the 100 platinum payment, and “investigate” the ship and find out what that bastard Vark is doing with her ship. She guessed he had some ulterior motive for keeping it. Raguhl got all worked up over Lavinia’s tale of woes, slammed his big scaly fist on the table, and swore another stupid kind of blood oath to her, before we could even begin to haggle over the price. Idiot! Lagaan and I looked at each other and he rolled his eyes. Before we left to get out weapons and armor from our respective homes, we discussed our strategy. Lagaan told us that the harbormaster was called Kaltar Islaran, and was the head of the noble family in charge of the harbor. He probably trusted his man Vark, so it was no use going to see him. It seemed we’d have to sneak aboard the ship and try to look quietly for the bag of money and the signet ring. We met around an hour later on the northern docks of the Merchant District. I was now wearing my studded leather armor (I had never used it in a fight yet since I got it tailor-made), my shield, my spiked gauntlet and my trident. I’d also brought a javelin, which I’d strapped at my back. Just in case. It turned out that the Blue Nixie wasn’t at the docks anymore. A grizzled old sailor showed us that it was now moored a hundred meters out in the water, to the north. He said he’d heard some strange noises coming from the ship the previous night. All right, so we needed a rowboat to get to it, right? So the old guy offered to rent us his for a few hours, for a gold piece. But he was willing to negotiate the price. All I had to give him instead was a kiss; I gave him a good wet one, and we got moving. Raguhl, Lagaan and Kanya swam ahead of us, to get behind the ship and climb aboard unnoticed when we reached it. I was in the rowboat with Sparkie and Tyria. Sparkie is perhaps the lamest rower I have ever seen. We crept forward at a turtle’s pace. Eventually, I had to give him a hand for us to get to the ship before the sun came up! We got hailed at about a hundred feet. Tyria and I tried to convince them of some wild lie about us being from the city watch, but they didn’t seem to buy it. They weren’t THAT dumb. Still, we managed to get close enough that Sparkie was able to use a charm spell on one of the sailors. He threw down a ladder and we managed to quickly climb aboard. But our plan really didn’t go well from that point. I heard a yell from the back of the ship – our three swimmers had been spotted. Also, Soller Vark, an ugly, scarred black-skinned man, showed up, and was furious to see us aboard. We tried again our bogus city guard story, but he just yelled at his sailors and ordered them to attack us. Then it all happened very fast. I managed to gut the closest sailor with my trident, and sent him tumbling down below deck through a trap door. Vark managed to throw Sparkie overboard. Meanwhile, Tyria started telling the funniest joke ever. It strangely lifted our spirits in the fight. I saw from the corner of my eye that Raguhl had managed to climb up the anchor chain and was rushing two sailors in the back, killing one instantly. He took a nasty hit from another one, and went into a terrible rage, roaring, and tearing the second sailor to shreds with his claws. Seeing that all of his sailors on deck were dead or charmed, Vark yelled to “abandon ship” and “burn it all”, probably for the benefit of more sailors below deck, and he turned around and dived overboard. Two more sailors came up on deck from the trap door, and followed Vark into the water. Raguhl, still growling in rage, jumped after them. Sparkie had managed to climb back up. I went below deck with him, his charmed sailor, and Tyria. We saw that a great number of cages were stored in the cargo hold, all of them carrying colorful, exotic animals. We then understood why the Blue Nixie was moored so far away from the docks – they didn’t want the city watch to hear the sounds of the contraband animals they were carrying. One lone sailor was trying to light the ship on fire, but thankfully, he was pretty clumsy about it. Before we could act, the door to the largest cage was smashed open, and a very strange creature emerged. It looked like a strange thin spider with a big jaw. It was really big, at least as big as a man. It jumped on the sailor and bit his head off. We didn’t wait for the beast to turn to us, so we quickly climbed back upstairs. However, it then occurred to me that the contraband animals were surely very valuable. We couldn’t let the creature kill them all. So Sparkie managed to anger it by throwing a dagger at it (I have to hand it to him, the boy’s got good aim), and the beast rushed up to the deck to fight us. I managed to stab it good with my trident as it was climbing up, but it lunged at me with blinding speed. I tried to dodge, but it managed to catch me in its horrible jaw. The pain! Oh, the pain! I haven’t felt something like this since… I guess since I gave birth. I thought it was just going to snap me in two. I could feel its many fangs digging into my abdomen. I heard Sparkie and Tyria scream. Sparkie muttered the words of some spell, but I don’t know what it did. I heard the thuds of arrows, and felt the creature reeling in pain. Lagaan, Kanya and Tyria had fired on it, trying to kill it before it killed me. I finally managed to regain enough senses through the haze of pain to let go of my trident, raise my spiked gauntlet fist and smash a powerful blow through one of the creature’s eyes. I drove my fist deep, penetrating its head. I felt the beast gave a great shudder, and die. But it was still clutching me in its jaws. I was stuck! For a moment, I thought I might faint from the pain, but I managed to stay conscious and cast a healing spell on myself. Little by little, the pain faded, as Lagaan and Kanya carefully extracted me from the massive jaw. Now my beautiful studded leather breastplate is almost ruined because of that stupid beast! And I only wore it once! Raguhl painfully climbed back on board. He was soaking wet, and carried Vark’s mangled corpse. After I healed his wound, he told us that he had also slain the other two smugglers who had jumped overboard. I laughed when I thought about how horrible their deaths must have been, swimming desperately in the dark waters, with the furious lizardman swimming after them like a shark, and the sudden agonizing pain of his jaws biting into their flesh! The two fools were now down in the depths of Umberlee’s domain. Lagaan and Kanya had also shot down Sparkie’s “friend” who had tried to flee using our rowboat. It looked like we’d killed every one of the smugglers. All in all, a very good night! I’m pleased with the others. I had my doubts at first, but they seem capable of handling themselves in a fight. Looks like they’re the right kind of people for me to stick with and do more well-paid missions for little Lavinia. Even pretty boy Sparkie showed he can be useful after all. After praying to Umberlee to take the souls of the sailors we had just killed, I joined the others in the search of the ship. We gathered the money and arsenal of the smugglers. Sparkie found a secret compartment in the captain’s bedpost, which contained the Vanderboren signet. Tyria found Lavinia’s bag of platinum. We also found a strange letter about a list of magical creatures facing either sunrise or sunset. I wonder what that’s all about. 
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