Spes's page

Killing drow is fun. The look on his face when Caelam hit him for 14 damage (go favoured enemy damage!) was priceless.

Hafta admit, 'twas kinda anti-climactic. But I escaped unscathed (this time 'round).

Jharvys out!

Ah yes, good times. Now, the next post will, I believe be of particular interest to Torrek, as we finally delve into the mysterious whereabouts of his long missing friend and companion, Ehran.

Oooo! I know I've got a lot on my plate to figure out for Gwydion, but I'd love to flesh some of ths out, unless there are some deep and secret goings-on.

Not all of Gwydion’s encounters in his short time in Cauldron have been positive ones. When Gwydion first came to Cauldron, he had a run in with the city’s guards, was subsequently arrested on false charges, and detained in the city’s dank dungeons without food or water, forgotten in the paperwork.

Excerpts from Terseon Skellerang's daily reports

Brewfest 1st, CY 592
Yet another year has passed. The city seems crazier around this time of year. Public revelry at this time is encouraged by the government. What is the Lord Mayor thinking in allowing such activities to take place? Too many citizens take this fall celebration of the last harvest completely to heart, and public intoxication has been all too common. The city has taken on a circus atmosphere, and the streets are filled with actors, jugglers, acrobats, animal and monster trainers (with their best “pets”), and grinning adventurers showing off their latest trophies.

Brewfest 4th, CY 592
Already, I’ve had to deal with a few thieves from the Last Laugh. They’ve melded into the crowds, and petty theft reports have gone up these last few days. We caught two of them three nights ago. Found him in an alley, bending over another member of their guild. He didn’t have his face painted like the other one did. Thought it was unusual, but my guess is he was undercover, recovering a fallen comrade before we got to him.
They’re both rotting in some cell. We’ll break them yet, find out who their leaders are. The conscious one, calls himself Gwydion, insists that he’s innocent. They all say that! We’ll get what we need from him yet!

Brewfest 5th, CY 592
The one called Gwydion fell into some sort of feverish state overnight. He kept moving and mumbling incoherently. Sometimes, some sense could be made of his ranting, something about the Lantern Street orphanage. I removed all guards from his cell and watched this one myself, all day. His mumblings about a family crest are interesting, if there is truth in them.
In any case, I’ve determined that he is not a member of the Last Laugh and have dispatched some of my men to bring him back to the Orphanage.

Gwydion remembers his “stay” with Terseon, and it is not something he has forgiven the captain of the city guard.

Gwydion's Journal
Sixth Entry

As matters stand, I can no longer associate myself with the followers of Wee Jas. Though not all members may be taking part in these dealings with the beholder and the Cagewrights, the upper echelons of the church are at least a part of the group’s leadership. Embryl and Orbius, the beholder, seemed to be speaking to each other as equals. Ike Iverson has even enlisted the help of several of the acolytes into their plans, as was evidenced by the robes worn by those I saw while I was in the temple. They may be innocent of any wrong doings and simply following the orders of their superiors, but I would have hoped, should that indeed be the case, that my brothers would have stood up against the wrong doings of their brethren. But can I really call it wrong doings?

None of it seems real to me. If my faith in the Stern Lady had not been shaken prior to this incident, I am unsure whether I would have simply accepted these events as part of the greater happenings to further the glory of Wee Jas, or if my moral standards would have prevailed upon me to seek out help, or at the very least, cease my association with Her church. These events seem to explain Ike’s outright rejection when I came to him for help in controlling the flooding of Crater Lake during the Flood Festival.

I think I will visit with Jenya and Shensen to ponder these matters

Gwydion's Journal
Fifth Entry

I have approached Shensen and recounted all of my recent activities to her. Should the Company of the Copper Coin fail in its endeavor to thwart this latest plot against the people of Cauldron, then at least another group shall be able to carry on the fight. My next plan of attack is to try to infiltrate the temple of my former brothers and find out what is going on with the followers Wee Jas. Shensen seemed troubled by some of what I had to say to her, but she wouldn’t speak of it further, asking instead that I prepare to gather the rest of the Company of the Copper Coin for a meeting with Tyro Amberhelm, the leader of the Striders in the vicinity of Cauldron. She said she would get back to me with the time and place of this meet.

Gwydion's Journal
Fourth Entry - Life as a Toad

We met with Lord Vhalantru at the Cusp of Sunrise, Zenith in tow. Vhalantru told us that the Splintershield elder had fallen on bad health, and been taken back to Splintershield Hold, a two-day journey south of the city. Our Company decided to keep Zenith under close guard while we awaited Lord Vhalantru’s caravan, which was to depart the next morning. Peneloppe and I were watching Zenith when a mad cackle echoed through the halls, originating from Zenith’s cell. Peneloppe opened the door to investigate while I surveyed the corridor. Zenith’s shackles mysteriously disintegrated, the cackle still being overheard. I called out for help to our companions in the next room. I endeavored to locate the source of the cackle, but my inaction only led to Peneloppe being struck by some invisible assailant. I called out to Ander once more, knowing his magical prowess would be able to detect the intruder.

With no apparent help from our companions forthcoming, I quickly threw Zenith’s limp form over my shoulders and made a run for the outer doors of the Malachite fortress. Zenith was still as unresponsive as he had been since our capture of him. As I ran through the next room and into the adjoining corridor, I was struck by the magic of our mysterious attacker. Suddenly, the world had turned dark, as I found myself turned into a toad, nestled within my own, now overgrown, clothing. Not knowing exactly what to make of my situation, but knowing that I should follow wherever Zenith went, I wormed my way into Zenith’s clothing and his there. Hopefully, I thought, I would be able to follow their footsteps, and – maybe, somehow – send a message back to the other members of the Company of the Copper Coin.

When I next regained my senses, it was to the familiar smell of incense burning. When I managed to peek out of Zenith’s clothing, it was to find him dead, beheaded, though I know not how or why. A look around placed me within the familiar grounds of the Temple of Wee Jas, although the specific room was not one which I’d visited often. Hung in the room were two silver-grey cages of unusual design. Also in the room were Embryl and Ike, the two ranking priests of Wee Jas, as well as a beholder named Orbius, and Kravichak, the mad derro who’d stolen Zenith’s body and transformed me into my then current state. I listened to the conversation that took place. The group works for, or calls themselves, the Cagewrights, and are apparently looking for the last of the Shackleborn. Zenith was apparently one of the Shackleborn, and as Ander later told me, also carries the Carcerian sign that Peneloppe also bears. Neither Embryl nor the beholder seemed pleased to see Zenith returned to them, dead and missing his head.

Taking Zenith’s body to the basement, I jumped out of his clothes before they laid him onto the altar and hid in the nearby shadows. They resurrected the fallen dwarf, an eerie sight to behold when one is missing his head. Embryl cast the lengthy spell with the aid of a scroll. Once Zenith was brought back to the living, the beholder and his slave Celeste left the temple by magical means. Though I cannot say for certain, I believe it to be an arcane teleportation spell. The fact that Celeste was helping these individuals was disturbing, but the blank look in her eyes and the comments made by the beholder leaves me to believe that she was under his influence, some sort of mind control. Ike and another of the hooded acolytes took Zenith back up to the room with the cages. I decided to try to follow them, though I knew it would be difficult to do so as a toad.

I had managed to reach the stairs leading back up when I was intercepted by the crazy derro, who cackled madly at the sight of me. I know not whether he recognized me, or if he was simply ecstatic at having found himself a potential familiar. He wanted to make me his familiar!! I cannot begin to imagine what being bonded so to that crazed derro would do to my own state of mental health.

Thankfully, I was never offered the opportunity to find out. Kravichak had caged me beneath an overturned urn while he ran to gather the components needed for the process of binding me to him. Before he returned, a strangely deformed man overturned the urn and released me from my prisons. Telling me to remain still, he spoke some enchantment which returned me to my human self, albeit I now found myself without clothing. The man, Kauphron, quickly recounted that he was a member of the group which had taken Zenith, though he seemed disgruntled and disillusioned with his group’s current state. He thought them all insane, although I’m not sure how sane he was, given that he was speaking to a toad for some of his conversation. Kauphron handed me a set of acolyte robes, and told me that I should escape now while I would not be discovered. I was tempted to climb to the top of the Church and see what they had done with Zenith, but the information I had gleaned about Zenith and these Cagewrights seemed too important to die with me should I not be able to rejoin the Copper Coin.

I rushed back towards Ghelve’s Locks, which contains an entrance to the Malachite Fortress, and ran into my companions. I quickly explained my situation as we headed to the Church of St-Cuthbert and inquire as to Jenya’s ability to dispel the magic which had turned Ander into a monkey, the same enchantment which had afflicted me with the body of a toad. Torrek seemed worried about a boy, Terrem, one of the children who’d been abducted from the Lantern Street Orphanage. He apparently also carried the Carcerian sign, and could be the last Shackleborn the Cagewrights sought.

Though he is safe and sound, I do not know if Terram will remain so for long. A thought occurs to me as I write this. Do any of the other people who were abducted carry the Carcerian sign? How many of those we did not find bore the strange symbol? Further investigation should be pursued, as this may lead us to some clues about the activities of these Cagewrights.

Gwydion's Journal
Third Entry - Near Death Experience

I awoke as if from a nightmare. I looked down to find that four arrows still protruded through my body in various places, Dagmar kneeling over me, hands aglow with the healing power of his god. I screamed out an arrow was pushed through my left shoulder.

I drifted in and out of consciousness over the course of the next few hours. Vague memories came to me, unbidden, during that time. Peneloppe and Ander in trouble. A winged woman with a flaming bow. Dagmar may have healed my body, but at the moment, it was my soul that needed mending. The devil woman had precipitated a crisis of faith that had begun during the Flood Festival.

I have always been at odds with the faithful of Wee Jas. The woman I had thought of as my mother died, I believed that only through Wee Jas could I find comfort in her death. When the Lady came to me in a vision as I lay close to death – much as she did today – I believed her to be Wee Jas, guiding me from beyond the mortal realms into finding my place within those of her faith.

Now I am unsure. Ike’s firm refusal to help the other churches of Cauldron during the Time of the Floods was perhaps the first step towards my realization that I may have been mistaken, that the faithful of Wee Jas did not follow the same tenets to which I adhered to. The second, and perhaps the most striking incident came upon me as I attempted to destroy several undead beings, to no avail. I had not simply failed in my attempt, my power seemed somehow perverted. Instead of destroying the foul unlife before me, they seemed rebuked, as if in awe of my power, almost as if I could command them to do my bidding.

Shock does not begin to describe my reaction at that moment. I had always thought of the undead as an abomination, a perversion of life. My faith in Wee Jas was based upon the fact that she somehow held sway over the unloving. A faith that was obviously misplaced, or at the very least, misguided.

Yet my faith survives. Though it may have been misplaced in my apparent devotion to the followers of Wee Jas, the Lady has never forsaken her faith in my abilities. When time permits, I shall endeavor to puzzle out this apparent duality in my faith.

Gwydion's Journal
Second Entry - The Striders

Along my travels and adventures, I have acquired some new allies, the Striders of Fharlanghn. Though I’d met some of them as they traveled through the region and stopped at The Lucky Monkey, and the small chapel dedicated to their god. Shensen Tesseril, the latest caretaker of the chapel, was my first introduction to the group. We rescued her from the cellar of The Lucky Monkey, as she was trapped there after Triel and Tongueater attacked. She had barricaded herself in the well room, and was near death when we rescued her from that room and the brown mold that guarded the entrance.

Her silver hair and dusky skin tone betray a drow heritage, but her dedication to Fharlanghn and the help she tried to provide Nather, Sarcem and the others at The Lucky Monkey when it was attacked, have brought her into my good graces.

I have also met with others of their group, two half-elves named Fario and Fellian, who also provided us with some help during our search for the wands stolen from Sarcem.

All three have pointed me to their contact in Cauldron, a merchant named Tyro Amberhelm, though I have yet to meet with him.

In the few months since the events at The Lucky Monkey, in trying to secure the funds needed to refurbish the inn, I have approached and talked with Shensen a number of times, promising her that I would rebuild The Lucky Monkey as it once stood, and have a new shrine to Fharlanghn erected. She seemed to appreciate my efforts, though I doubt that she and the other Striders can spare much in the way of funding for this operation.

Shensen and I’s time together has been enjoyable. We’ve talked on a variety of subjects during some of my visits. She appreciates mine and Ander’s efforts to rebuild the inn, and my commitment that the shrine to Fharlanghn be restored. We talked often, sharing stories of our pasts. I’m still hesitant about telling her the truth of what I’ve found out about my parentage.

Our conversations inevitably led to matters of a divine nature. Though I received quite a bit of knowledge on the teachings of Fharlanghn from Harkin while he was the chapel’s caretaker and whilst we traveled together, Shensen’s talks provided a sort of insight into my own plight with my relationship with the church of Wee Jas. My dealings with Embryl have been naught, but I have dealt with her second, Ike Iverson, on a number of occasions. In none of those dealings has he particularly impressed me, nor has his church’s stance on the events that occurred during the Flood Festival.

His church? Has my belief in Wee Jas been shaken so much that I no longer see Ike and the other faithful of Wee Jas as brothers and sisters of the faith? Is my faith in Her misplaced, somehow? These are questions I find myself asking myself more and more these days. My conversations with Shensen may have spurred on this internal debate, but something else must have rocked my faith beside a simple disagreement with Ike.

Gwydion's Journal
First Entry - Journeying to Cauldron

This journal’s purpose is twofold. One, that I can jot down whatever important information I come across, so that lest I fall in battle, in pursuit of one quest of another, that the information shall not perish with me. Two, that I may sort out my own thoughts by writing then down and forcing myself to come to terms with what has happened to me in the recent past, and what I may yet face in the future.

Let me first start by penning down the events which have led me to Cauldron. Both of the people I have called my parents for the past twenty-one years have died. Tessa died of some disease from which even the priests could not save her. Nather was killed when a follower of Hextor, a redhead named Triel, and a lycanthrope called Tongueater, led an attack that destroyed my home, The Lucky Monkey, burning the inn verily to the ground in their attempt to intercept eight wands being brought to Cauldron by Sarcen, then the high priest of the Church of St-Cuthbert. Tongueater now lies dead, felled by my arrow, though Triel still eludes me. Though our group, the Company of the Copper Coin, captured her, she managed to escape through the treachery that lies at the heart of vile people like her.

I came to Cauldron on the advice of a friend, after he told me the truth of my parentage, at least what he knew of it. Tessa and Nather we not my real parents. I had been apparently, and almost literally, left at the door of the inn, the woman who gave birth to me disappearing into the Midwinter night in a chariot back to wherever she’d come from. I later confirmed Roark’s tale of a carriage whose side was adorned with a silver and black shield, a rampant griffin holding a chisel in one talon and a bough in the other, the symbol of a powerful noble family in the city of Cauldron.

Upon further investigation, I tracked down various members of my birth family. I have laid eyes on those I presume to be my birth parents but once, at a... (the rest of this page has been torn off, as well as several of the next pages)