Tatya Dyalov's page

Limeylongears wrote:

Lamiabrarian wrote:

quibblemuch wrote:

Limeylongears wrote:

lisamarlene wrote:

Limeylongears wrote:

Ibrahim al-Aziz-Zaman Faysal wrote:

I'm sure I can find you a focus group for testing such a variant. It will have to be organically sourced, of course. Only the finest harvest of Englishmen will do.

You're out of luck, in that case. Englishfolk are silicon-based life forms.

Like the Horta?

I thought that was a traditional Jewish dance...

You're thinking of haiku.

No, that's the three-line Japanese traditional poetry.

You're wanting hatra.

That's the villain in 'Thundercats'

I'm pretty sure you're thinking of Haggis.

No, that's the infamous Scottish dish.

I'm fairly certain you want hogada.

Bickering Partisans wrote:

Toxic Yesterday, Earth Avenger wrote:

CPT. ARGUEMENTAL wrote:

thegreenteagamer wrote:

You should do it. It's better than the endless rules questions on the AMA threads. Seriously, ask your GM people, or if you're a GM, make a f***ing call, take a stand, already!

Even I can't argue with that

Remember kids! If you read a dictionary you can recycle your same tired argument over and over again.

Oh, are we up for a scrap, old bean?

Are.. are you a witch?

They're not, but I am!

I hate their trample ability.

I mean seriously, have you ever had a house land on you? Its like insta death attack!

And if you're unlucky enough to be a Witch, you automatically take double damage.

Vic Wertz wrote:

Cheapy wrote:

He'll prioritize the sections, and that does mean someone's cause is going to be in last place.

Sorry, man—we rolled off for them, and your cause got a 1. And when we rolled to confirm the fumble, the die went off the table and down a small vent right on into the furnace.

Damnit! Now I'll never know if halfings are intended to be used as weapons :(

Not agaaaaaaaaaaaain!

I approve of this tactic. *raises vodka glass*

Needs more vodka.

Slumber hex! Maybe that would help! Know any witches I could offend?

You don't have to offend me! I accept bribes in vodka.

Misfortune makes GMs cry. =)

Jeff Lee wrote:

Another apparent trend is the idea that imbibing alcohol makes one more likeable.

It doesn't? *hic* Uh-oh.

Ignore him, he doesn't know what he's talking about. Vodka?

By playing exclusively Russian sounding women: "Moose and Sqvirrel."

Guilty here.

Here's my first, link to her journal - short-lived as it was - in her profile.

Da.

This little witch here nearly destroyed every encounter she was in with web. The only thing the GM threw at us that she couldn't immediately disable or at least slow down was a will-o-wisp.

DSXMachina wrote:

I just want some good weather for my festival.

*points and laughs at the Brit*

** spoiler omitted **

New hex get?

Embrace the vodka!

I agree on the latter part at least....

... I need more vodka.

Had our PF FR game last night. The final battle against the hag coven we'd been at war with. Last night it was down to the coven's last remaining member (and leader), a night hag.

While we had been away dealing with her coven sisters, she had been busy messing with our town. So we laid an ambush for her and her nightmare. Needless to say, we buswrecked them both.

Good. The only good hag is a dead hag.

This one. Halfling witch with a Russian accent, extreme love of vodka and penchant for brewing her liquor and her potions in the same cauldron. Also the brains and "leader" of her party, which included two humans - a monk and a gunslinger. Former runaway apprentice of a hag, utterly terrified of hags and changelings, who later discovered she had a little changeling half-sister who had tracked her down to "take her home". Campaign sadly ended before she could get to explaining to the little one why "Mother Makushka" was not a good person or why she was so terrified of her....

I have a monk friend who had much the same experience.... Was yours filled with pickles and brine too?

Sara Marie wrote:

robot chris: paizo building is sekrit baba yaga hut

I KNEW IT!

Everything makes sense now.

*goes to brew up a lifetime supply of vodka*

So the Russians are the ones deciding where the ship goes.

In my own case, that didn't turn out so well....

Tatya Dyalov wrote:

Kajehase wrote:

** spoiler omitted **

I don't have to be sober to detect sarcasm.

I'm allowed to make fun of Russians, seeing as some of them make up a part of my family tree.

Which part of you did they make out of that tree?

** spoiler omitted **

I don't have to be sober to detect sarcasm.

Before parting ways with the alchemist, I made one final inquiry, regarding the time the kidnappings had occurred; my fears were swiftly confirmed when Truzan assented that the disappearances had begun one week prior to the last full moon. Thankfully he had considered the idea himself - he had three blanches of alchemical silver at the ready, and after some discussion I was able to convince him to lead me to the local smith, who despite his feud with Truzan (apparently he had summoned a horde of wasps, via his own mouth, to chase off the smith's son sometime recently) was willing to let me use his forge to melt down the silver puzzle box we'd found and make bullets out of it using Mel's molds. The eleven bullets - five for myself, six for Mel's rifle - were less than I expected to glean from the box, but it would have to suffice. We gave the blanches to John, gave him mittens so they could be applied to his hands without injury, and explained how to use them as we traveled along the path designated the following morning, with Yesfir and Grom's noses following along the trail John and Mel pointed out. Mel also lent John her silver dagger, since the blanches' uses were so limited in duration and effect. I also took the time to explain the basics of lycanthropy to Kseniya, warning her to stay back from the battle and avoid being bitten; I shudder to think what the effects of wolfsbane on a child her age would be, and more so what would become of her if the moon-curse were left to take hold.

We eventually came upon a small ruin where my two companions spotted a small group of wolves standing at alert. John immediately drank the enlarge person potion I had given him long ago - shortly after offering him another which he declined, and instead giving it to Mel - and leaped into the fray. Kseniya spotted magic from within the ruin, which I was able to identify as the shield of faith spell; remembering that Truzan's missing wife was the village healer, we sped our advance to come to her aid as swiftly as we could. Well-placed shots by Kseniya and Mel put the two attacking wolves out of attacking force, while I was able to spot the suspect - a werewolf, as suspected - and lay a hex of misfortune on him.

With the wolves out of the way John charged at the lycanthrope, but his greater size caused him to become wedged in the makeshift doorway of the ruin. This, however, did not stop him from reaching the werewolf and attacking it with his now-grown knife. Mel and I flanked around opposite sides of the ruin and placed a silver bullet apiece into its flesh, after I seized its mind with an illusion of terror and hellfire to bring it to its knees. Kseniya however trumped all of us by unleashing a blast of white-hot light that exploded into glowing golden ooze, pinning the beast to the ground and holding it in place for John to knock unconscious.

We moved into the ruin to examine the scene while John tied up the unconscious beast. In addition to the dwarven priestess, there was also a terrified young boy here, the other missing person Truzan had mentioned. The boy was scared but uninjured; Jaina however had been bitten several times by the werewolf, and while her injuries had been healed that would not stop the beast's venom if it was not countered before the next moon. Thankfully Jaina was equally aware of this threat, and now that she and the child had been safely rescued they could be returned to town to treat the impending illness before it took hold.

Before we could depart however, we were alerted to the sound of approaching voices; two women traveling down the path were drawing near, and one came to a complete stop upon sight of Kseniya waiting outside the ruin's walls for the rest of us. I was able to put myself between them before the stranger could draw her hammer and attack, which also gave me time to notice her claws and mismatched eyes. I gave a short explanation, keeping the discussion discreetly to the hagspeech I was certain she would know, and was eventually able to convince her of our well-meaning presence and that we were no danger to her or to the villagers, and that we were not connected to Makushka or any other hag save by Kseniya's blood and my abandoned apprenticeship. She introduced herself as Lenora and her guide and companion as Pelagra; they were apparently the aid sent from Songvale for the very task we had already accomplished, though thankfully they did not seem put out by this revelation. Not that they had much time for it; John moments later called out for Mel, who had been watching the pair from her place in hiding since the fight with the lycanthrope had ended, and she and Pel near flew into each other's arms at the sight of one another. I'd heard the name before but had not caught the resemblance Mel bore to her younger sister until that moment.

We returned to Alswyr and escorted Jaina back to Truzan, who after an eager greeting swiftly produced the required wolfsbane. We took our seats - John, Kseniya, Lenora, and I at one table, Mel and Pel at another - and spent most of the remainder of the evening in discussion. I spoke with Lenora regarding her heritage, her history, my own past, and my difficulties with trying to prepare Kseniya for the inevitable Call. We shared some of our experiences and knowledge, and she even offered to speak with Kseniya herself, promising no harm would come to her, as a fellow Changeling who had already denied the demanding pull of her heritage.

Night eventually fell, and after bidding Lenora farewell I retired to my chamber for the evening; less than an hour had passed before Kseniya came to visit me. She seemed to have accepted Lenora's education, expressing her fear of "becoming a monster" and coming to me for shelter and advice. I explained how I had intended to show her as much of the world as I could, to let her travel for years with friends and companions who loved and trusted her, to let her see there was more to life than the little Makushka had taught her. I wanted to give her reason to deny the Call, to give her people and places and a life to want to come back to. I promised that I would stick by her side at all times, and that when it came time - years in the future, but not many - for Makushka to demand her return home, we would be there. Myself, Mel, John, Yesfir, Ksusha... all of us, and any other friends we met along the way. I held my sister tightly and promised her I would never see her left alone, and that come whatever may, we would get through it as one.

And there, for now, ends Tatya's story. Perhaps some time in the future, the little witch and her companions will have further tales, but for now they are safe and together in Alswyr, not yet certain where their next road lies.

In the meantime, new adventures await: Gwyn Vanderbilt, sorceress detective, is on the case in Westcrown, a once-prosperous hive of scum and villainy. For the tales of her and her companions adventures, The Vanderbilt Files: Council of Thieves begins next Monday, December 3rd, 2012.

After some perusal, John and I decided to claim a kitten each, while Mel declined the offer after some thought. We thanked the dragon and his student once again for their hospitality and informed them of our plans to leave upon the morning, then, after regaling the dragon with a thorough (if somewhat summarized) description of our travels beginning with my departure from my homeland, headed to bed for the night.

After a strange dream where I found myself reliving the escape from Makushka's swamp, I woke up to find Ksusha standing on my chest... with a set of butterfly wings growing from her back and a sudden ability to speak! She explained, through my confusion, that she had always possessed these traits, and only kept them hidden from me because she felt the time was not yet right, an opinion which had recently changed. Our discussion was enough to wake both Mel and John, who while equally perplexed at least knew well enough to not ask too many questions. I myself wanted to ask several, but given my tired state I couldn't manage the words at the time and we agreed to set the discussion off until morning.

At that time, we collected our belongings - including a third kitten Kseniya had claimed - and bid farewell to Deswyn and Vance before resuming the trek south, leaving the forest behind and moving into the plains of Deriviere. As we went I conversed heavily with my familiar, who Kseniya was able to identify as a Silvanshee, a type of good entity from realms beyond. She explained that she had been observing our group in our travels, first Mel and I then also John after our arrival in Terra Occasiae (an event which she claimed to have no hand in, which sundered that attempt to rationalize the overseas journey in less than two weeks' time), and had noted that despite many threats and dangers we had consistently thrown ourselves into the defense and protection of the innocent and opposition against destruction and evil. She warned that we would be seeing much more of this in our path, not limited alone to Makushka and her many pawns; in part this would be due to our own draw toward such troubles, but Ksusha freely admitted that she would perhaps actively direct us toward such things in the future.

And as if by example, we came upon a hilltop graveyard in the plains, not far from a village; here we found ourselves accosted by an undead menace lurking within the tombs, a headless aberration John called a Dullahan. We slew its two bats with ease, then I managed to hex the armored entity and trap it within a field of black tentacles so Mel, John, and Kseniya could finish it off. Mel retrieved its armor and sword from the corpse after I noted both were magical; neither the longsword nor the platemail was of any use to the four of us nor our animalian companions, so we carried it with simple intent to sell once we reached the next town, a village we learned was called Alswyr.

As expected, as soon as we entered the town I sought out an inn and tavern for us to rest for the evening and bide the night, with intent to continue on in the morning. However, when John attempted his customary order of "one of everything", he found himself rebuffed not only by the bartender but also an anxious-looking local who we swiftly learned was named Truzan, who both pressured him to be more careful in his orders, as the local healer was unavailable should he fall ill. Suspicious, John prodded further, and after some discussion with the man he invited us to a table to speak privately; he revealed that within the past couple of months something had been causing people to vanish. Animal tracks - wolf-like, he claimed - had been found at the scene, but no further evidence; I inquired of Yesfir if Makushka or one of her daughters would be operating this far south, to which she replied with a negative shake of her head. I inquired further, looking for more information; Truzan claimed the bestial tracks had all led into the same direction out into the wilderness, but groups who had followed them had yet to return. The missing healer was actually his wife, explaining his anxiety, and she had departed to retrieve a missing child who had wandered off in that direction; neither had been seen since. They had sent word to Songvale, the next village south, requesting aid, but had not yet heard back; he had, at first, assumed that we were a rescue or investigation team from Songvale only to quickly realize we were much less local.

With a meaningful glance to my familiar and a unanimous agreement among the four of us, we promised Truzan to begin an investigation of our own first thing in the morning.

It's not pretty.

We continued our trek through the forest, delayed only momentarily by a flight of massive bees; after tending to them and their queen, we located and raided their hive for its honey before moving on. Several hours passed as we made our way through the wood, including a few delays where John decided to jump in the river and had to be rescued by magic, pole, or hand, and Kseniya had many questions that the three of us endeavored to answer... though it seemed Mel and John were quite unwilling to be frank with the girl, for reasons I cannot for the life of me understand. Simply tell her the information she wants. She can figure out things on her own. She's managed witchcraft, concepts such as trade and travel and adult pasttimes and the like can't be far beyond her understanding.

It was later in the evening when we encountered another traveler - a man with a cat, being harassed by a trio of brigands. Mel managed to swiftly scare them off; she suggested she shoot down the fleeing thieves, but after some swift consideration I told her to save her bullets, as at best she would down one of the men while the other two escaped. The young traveler, a man named Vance, was grateful for our aid and offered to take us to his master for a suitable thanks; in the ensuing journey we swiftly learned he was a sorcerer, one of enchanted blood, a heritage of magic passed through his family. The cat he carried was a "project" of his masters; it seemed to be able to call up clouds of blackness much like a spellcaster would. Intrigued, I questioned him a little on the nature of his project, but he claimed his master would be able to speak of it in better detail and delayed.

He led us to a tunnel into a massive cavern within the wood, where was hidden an enormous chamber with a sand-covered floor, stocked with no less than thirty-two man-sized statues, sixteen black and sixteen white. Vance led us about this display to meet his master at the rear of the chamber - where we found a Brass Dragon! Coiled amidst a large gathering of similar magical kittens, the dragon - who called itself Deswyn - greeted us cordially and, after some initial communication difficulties with John, thanked us for aiding his student and welcomed us to his abode.

After some discussion, John and Mel took notice of the statues and began poking and prodding at them curiously; Deswyn, seeing their interest, cleared the sand from the center of the room, revealing a massive chessboard beneath the statues' feet, and invited us to play a game against him - with the reward being a gift from their stores. We agreed and chose the black field, and after a few moves Deswyn turned the white side over to Vance. After some play, most of white's aggressor pieces had been eliminated, and when his chances were pointed out Vance conceded the game gracefully. John, much to my chagrin, proceeded to fight the White King hand-to-hand, and was gravely injured by the statue's spear in retaliation; he did manage to destroy it, though, much to my irritation, and Deswyn took a moment to lament the need to repair the constructs lost in the game as well as the one John had smashed. Thankfully the great dragon was not put out of sorts by the destruction; I would not have wished to rile his goodwill toward us away for a moment of heedless destruction, even if John saw this as the best way to display our victory in the game.

Deswyn offered us our choice of the magical kittens as well as a selection of the items he and Vance, and presumably any other students the dragon might have or had, crafted in their spare time. The objects were certainly strange and unusual variants of more common magical trinkets - things such as a Bag of Scolding, an Elixir of Loaves, a set of Muleback Cards, and similar oddities - while each of the kittens produced a unique, minor magical effect. They also offered us the safety of their lair and company for the ensuing night, to which we agreed while we made our selections amidst the offered hoard.

We returned to Sirrus and headed immediately for the local inn and tavern, pausing only to speak to Mayor Montcalm as he offered our group a credit of 300 gold pieces to the town's market as thanks for the recovery of his daughter and the "capture" of the little girl and her wolf, the most likely suspects of the recent rash of thieveries. The four of us went in, though we had to leave Grom and Yesfir at the door as the tavern bouncer refused to let us in with the animals... despite the child's ardent demands and complaints and pleadings to the contrary, though I managed after some effort to convince her to leave the wolf safely with Grom. She pointedly ignored any commentary by John or Mel, other than to cringe away when one got too close, but as we took our seats at a nearby table she took an immediate liking to Ksusha... who was displaying a distinct coldness to me in turn, most likely from catching her within the sleet storm.

After repeated prompting, pleading, near-bribery, a sip of vodka (which she very much did not like, and quickly opted instead for a pot of John's tea), and a rejected offer of food, we finally managed to get the girl to open up a little, and quickly learned a great deal of information. She was, much to my dread, indeed both my sister and one of Makushka's Changeling daughters, requiring a dreadful connection of details that revealed unpleasant occurrences since my flight. (My poor parents must be scarred for life....) Her name was Kseniya, and she was merely six years of age, but like most of the old hag's daughters already an accomplished student of Witchcraft. She had learned of me, though obviously colored by Makushka's disdain and hatred, and recently had learned I had been found alive; seeking to please her mother and thinking me merely lost, kidnapped, or a runaway had gotten it into her head to run off, find me, and bring me "home", accompanied only by Yesfir, who Makushka had assigned as her guardian, and her toad familiar Strelka. (This latter's introduction was predicated with Kseniya pointing out that Makushka had said that I would be interested in seeing this companion; the implications of this were no less disturbing than any others unearthed in this conversation.)

Despite all this unnerving information, Kseniya seemed otherwise to be a fairly 'normal' child simply trying to do what she thought would make her mother happy, and seek out the sister she'd never known. I couldn't even think of bringing harm to her, the way I had reacted to the hagspawn we'd encountered earlier, even knowing the damnation she was due once she matured. Thankfully about this time she tired, and we purchased a room where she could rest for the night; Mel likewise retired to her own room, while John and I went outside, he to do his evening exercises, I to speak with Yesfir.

Hoping my intuition and assumptions were correct, I cast a spell allowing me to read the surface thoughts of an intelligent creature after explaining the nature of the effect and promising it would do no harm. My guess proved accurate, as Yesfir was as intelligent as a normal person, and no longer bereaved by the difficulties of discourse in a wolf body was able to communicate coherently through the aid of the spell. I was surprised but greatly relieved to learn that she was no longer under Makushka's thrall, and even more so when she informed me that the Changelings' Call was not irrefutable or irresistible, and that her willingness to accompany Kseniya on this journey was greatly due to wishing to put as much distance between the child and her mother as possible, allowing her to grow and learn free of Makushka's direct involvement and perhaps be willing to resist the Call when it came. She also confirmed my fears that life as a bat in her familiars-to-be flocks would not be my fate should I be returned and reclaimed by the hag; most likely I would be reduced to something much like the toad, all but useless and unable to attempt escape. Most of all she urged me to not treat Kseniya harshly nor judge her for her heritage, and to delay return to Vechen as long as possible. The spell faded before any further conversation could be had, so I bid her and John goodnight and returned to my own room for the evening.

Come morning, we divided up the treasure we'd retrieved from the Dweomercats, then headed to the market to spend our granted credit and resupply before heading on. In addition to a few scrolls, I purchased a wand of speak with animals in hopes that we could use it to communicate with Yesfir in person rather than through one-way telepathy. I also paid Mel to restock on her explosive cartridges. Once supplied and equipped, I sold our mule - unneeded now, thanks to the extra carry space and weight reduction from the Haversack - and then directed us south. We will eventually reach Vechen which is actually northeast of Sibbecoss, but we will go the long way. There is plenty to see along the way.

Some of it, however, we saw nearly immediately. After leaving Sirrus, we passed through a wooded area; as the foliage began to thin, Kseniya and John spotted an abandoned crate left beneath a tree. When John attempted to break it open, the box came to life and attacked. We put the creature, whatever it was, down with little difficulty, mostly due to some well-aimed attacks by Mel and John and my summoned rain of frogs, a spell I had only recently mastered. The box's shattering by John's head was not the end of the skirmish, however; a much larger enemy, a Moonflower plant, had emerged due to the ruckus and saw us as its next meal. This battle was much more tenuous, as the frogs were unable to do much damage at all and the Moonflower temporarily blinded us with some kind of flash effect. Thankfully Kseniya was able to set it on fire, exploiting its main weakness, and Mel and John made up for my relative inability to aid much - providing only the distraction of the frogs and the arrival of a summoned Fire Beetle to aid in the battle, as my bullets bounced harmlessly off the plant's rubbery hide and the Moonflower was too resistant to my ice spells to bother wasting them - and eventually whittled it down enough for Kseniya to char it to death. Once the plant was sufficiently scorched, we abandoned the area as quickly as our legs - or in my and Kseniya's cases, the legs of our mounts - would carry us, bound south out of the forest and toward Deriviere.

Scrolls and wands for spells I want but cannot cast.

In the past I have primarily used it for Magic Weapon scrolls (when my friends were preparing for the possibility of being attacked by a ghost) and I was given a Wand of Prestidigitation as a gift.

The next couple of weeks of travel were mostly quiet and uneventful treks through the wooded lands of Sibbecoss, with only an encounter with an enormous slumbering spider and a battle with some pesky mandragoras to interrupt the calm. The journey might well have been relaxing and refreshing, if the night after the duel with the lightning creature I had not found myself underneath the watchful magical eye of a scry. I managed to fend off the mental intrusion by some miracle, but it left no doubts in my mind whether or not Makushka had resumed her attempts to track me down.

Two weeks later we neared a village and encountered an older man traveling with a cart filled with silks. Relieved to see a friendly, normal face, I perused his wares for some time; John however proved suspicious, and only when the man suddenly lunged and shoved an enchanted shirt onto him was I able to identify him for the faerie he was. We managed to fend off the magic and retaliate, and after several batterings and assaults Grom tore into the man, ripping him asunder, causing him and his cart to vanish into smoke. John managed to free himself from the magical garment, and we burned it with fire mingled with salt to make sure the fey magic was destroyed.

Shortly after, we reached the village of Sirrus, which appeared to be in the midst of some kind of celebration. Mostly elves and halflings were gathered around a large feast in the town square, and as soon as he saw it John began helping himself, much to Mel and my displeasure and embarassment; Ksusha also saw fit to leap free of her place in my satchel and start wandering around the tables. While I fetched her, Mel chased down John, and both were swiftly approached by the village leader, an elven man named Montcalm. After retrieving my familiar I managed to join the discussion to find the mayor offering my companions the opportunity to work as "security" for the Founder's Festival; I took him aside to question why he would be asking three strangers to take such a delicate task, and he pointed out wolf tracks scattered throughout the grounds in the midst of the city. He informed me that the wolf - or wolves - had been stealing festival food for several days now, and his fear that a villager might be harmed or panic at the sight of the creature. I sent Ksusha to follow the trail, and dedicated the rest of our day to keeping an eye on the festival grounds themselves.

Later that evening, Ksusha finally returned with hints that she'd found something; as we made to follow Mayor Montcalm stopped us and requested that instead we should look for his missing daughter, who had left for home a few hours prior but never arrived. I tried to direct us to the mayor's home to investigate there, but Ksusha was adamant in her demand that we pursue the wolf tracks; thinking the two might be connected, we pursued her lead, with the mayor joining our number for the time being.

We found the girl some distance outside of town, in a stone ring along with another faerie, this one a satyr. I fired a warning shot to get his attention off her, then Mel and John leaped to the assault; the mayor tried to charge before we could, but was stopped by John, then stood back unable to further aid or act for the remainder of the battle. As John closed into melee with the beast, Mel and I found ourselves under magical assault from something invisible off to the side where Ksusha had darted. Mel tried in vain to drive it out with her weapon or simply spot it, at which point - after repeatedly hexing the satyr - I summoned a sleet storm in the grassy alcove to the north. This managed to flush out the pixie attacking Mel, but also drove out a wolf with a very young halfling girl riding it. The pixie fled after being battered by my spell and Mel's salt-shot, and the Satyr surrendered after John grabbed it, flipped it over his shoulder, and dropped it on its head.

I approached the girl, attempting to ascertain if she and her mount were indeed the source of the stolen goods from the city, but found myself dumbstruck when I noted her mismatched eyes. She was tiny, even compared to me... a halfling changeling? Could such a thing even exist? All the more unnerving was Mel and John's adamant claims that her resemblance to me was uncanny. I managed, with John's aid, to ask her to identify herself, which she refused, saying "Mother told me not to talk to strangers"; I promised to do her no harm, and she refused once again, claiming we both knew quite well that I did not need weapons to do her injury. I acquiesced by having John bind my hands with rope, preventing me from casting, and she and the wolf - who bore the unnerving name of Yesfir... the name of another of Makushka's apprentices, two before myself - finally deigned to accompany us back to town.

There were a lot of questions in need of answers....

Misfortune, Evil Eye (Saves), Evil Eye (AC), Evil Eye (Attack), Slumber. Cackling all the way.

How this little Witch took out a Will-o-Wisp last night.

My memory of the events of the fight is blurred by panic and fear, but I recall what happened after quite clearly. I attempted to restart the fire and set the hut burning, but after multiple attempts with the flint Mel stepped in and set the lot - and part of the wall - aflame with the new gun she'd constructed. I began spreading blankets from the bed around so they would catch and spread the flames, but before I could finish the task Blaise saw fit to pick me up and carry me away from the spreading fire. I tried to explain, in my panicked state, that the building needed to be burned, needed to be reduced to ashes, if we did not wish it to uproot itself and return to the hell from whence it came; I believe at the time he thought me quite mad. Which, admittedly, was not an inaccurate assessment. Mel intervened, however, and after a moment of tension between the two Blaise relented and released me. Cecil, who to Blaise's dismay had brought his fire-gun, offered to finish the job of setting the building alight; I have to admit in my delirium I was so overjoyed with the prospect I kissed the man right there before ushering everyone else out of the building to leave him to the work. He seemed more startled than anything; I do hope I didn't make the wrong impression, I was merely caught up in the moment.

Once the building was sufficiently burned, I conjured water elementals to, with the aid of the nearby river, put out the inferno before it could spread through the forest. Only once the building and the corpse of its occupant were naught but soggy ash could I relax, and it was then that my companions began demanding much-deserved explanations. I would have elucidated then and there, but Blaise determined it would be better to save exposition until we had returned to La Maleficette where Teagan and Elea could be party to the story, to which I agreed. With some difficulty we - including Grom - piled into the basket of the balloon, then Cecil and Blaise were able to get it started and airborne once more. We were approached mid-flight by a pair of eagles - each the size of a horse! - but a bribe of food from Mel convinced them to leave us be.

Once back on the ship, I requested of Dame Marchand that we have a moment to speak in private, then once all relevant parties were gathered I shared the full extent of my story. I told of my life in a small forest village, not simply the quiet hometown I had relayed before but a town in terror, ruled in fear and submission to a hag named Makushka. I explained the nature of hags, what I knew of it, and their strange witchcraft which was so different from the magics of Terra Occasiae. I explained how every five years Makushka came to the village to take one of its women as her apprentice, train them for that time, then perform a powerful ritual that stripped them of their power and their will before transforming them into one of her pets - wolves for her packs for those who had pleased her, bats to be assigned as familiars to future students for those who had not. I explained how every twenty years she claimed a man, almost always a husband and father, to sire a Changeling child for her, then how she raised that daughter to follow in her footsteps, teaching her witchcraft and sorcery, sending her away to learn on her own, then when she returned performing another ritual that changed her into as vile a hag as her mother, before sending her away to begin the cycles anew with apprentices and daughters of her own. I explained how witches can imbue their huts with a semblance of life, allowing them to sprout legs and walk seemingly of their own will, in obeisance to mental commands or prior orders of their mistress. I explained how should Makushka retrieve the body of a hag without it being reduced to dust, she could easily reincarnate her in a new body, then repeat the ritual of ascension to return her to hag form. And I explained how the surviving familiar, if its wounds or the death of its mistress did not stop it, would report my survival to my old mentor, who would then stop at nothing to see me dead or, worse, captured and back under her command.

After I shared my tale, there was some time of silence, followed by condolences and apologies for some of the earlier misunderstandings and miscommunications. Teagan even took me aside to offer me a position among her people, a job I would have taken with eagerness at any other time, and still wish I could. But I could not bear the conscience of bringing Makushka's wrath down on her and her people, their blood would be on my hands if I chose to flee under her banner for safety. Instead I bid my farewells to the people on the ship, promised Dame Marchand I would happily return to her employ once I was certain I no longer posed a danger to her, then gave John and Mel a chance to depart safely as well. Both, perhaps predictably, refused and promised to accompany me for the time being. They gave their farewells as well, John perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than the rest of us, then we departed eastbound into the woods of Sibbecoss, headed for Vechen on the opposite side of the continent.

We traveled for a few hours before rain began, driving us off the road into the shelter of a cavern. After our last encounter with inhabited caves we decided to investigate before making ourselves at home, and found a small Dweomercat huddled inside the chamber. Before we could do anything, a much larger version of the creature stalked out of the darkness and interposed itself between us and the kitten; we withdrew to the entrance of the cave, and the mother cat seemed content to leave us be while we did the same to it and its litter. John and I, some time later, spotted a cache of items the Dweomercats had collected from somewhere, and were able to sneak around the corner - keeping a wide berth from the cat family - and retrieve the treasure without hostilities. A great number of magical items, coins, and gems were among the bounty, and I stashed them aside for later perusal.

The rain relented several hours later, and by noon we were back on the road, but the day was not quite ready for peace just yet. Well into the afternoon we came across the scorched corpse of a dead wolf, with a bobbing sphere of light hovering over its form, which blinked out of sight when we neared then reappeared and attacked John, spitting lightning as it struck. We tried several times to harm it with minimal success, but I was able to lay several Hexes on it before it could do much damage and keep them functioning with a somewhat disturbing litany of cackles. (I am not certain I was completely over my prior panic, I must admit....) The badly crippled creature, cursed to near-impotence, eventually succumbed to a few attacks before I finally put it to sleep, allowing John to stomp it beneath his heel and Mel to crush it with the butt of her rifle, finally putting it down.

With the lightning sphere dead, we disposed of the body of the wolf, then decided this would be a good location to make camp, rather than further traveling on. Tomorrow we will resume the journey eastward, and pray we can reach a city before too much more danger steps in our way.

I should not have come back.

I should not have come back.

I should have stayed on Terra Occasiae. I could have lived out a life there. A strange one, but a good one. I could have found work, either with Dame Marchand or someone else. Between my alchemy, my witchcraft, my capability with animals, or my talents with diplomacy, I am not lacking for talents to apply toward work. I could have lived well, had a life that while not perfect would have been good. There were potatoes there, so I would have had vodka. I would have gotten used to the stares, to the strange overwhelming presence of pure unmutated humanity only, and perhaps in time the dreams would have faded. They were nearly gone, nearly gone until now.

Now they will return. Oh gods, they will return. And I will not be able to sleep again without drinking myself into a stupor. Much like those first few years.

The last week on the ship was calm. The weather was cooperative, there were no beasts to assault us nor pirates to interrupt our journey. I even had a opportunity to discuss my own personal philosophy of experience and understanding with John, after he turned down yet another opportunity to expose himself to a new sensation. I spoke with Cecil on perhaps eliciting his work on one of his creations to take with me on our journey when we parted ways, though I lacked the funds to truly compensate him for his work and had to give a reluctant refusal. All was well when we made the port in Sunset Shoals, on the western shore of Sibbecoss, and I set my feet once more on Idryman soil.

Teagan wasted no time in finally collecting her debt from John, and called him and Cecil away into the crowd shortly after we disembarked. I traded a few words with Elea while Blaise wandered off, and when he returned he informed us that Dame Marchand had finished "setting up" their display in the square of the city. We followed his lead to find her - I jest not - displaying her balloon contraption, with Cecil at its helm, for the public's perusal. She had apparently placed John in the crowd to serve as a "volunteer", though he missed his cue repeatedly and had to be dragged out in what to me was obvious false "random selection" on her part. He climbed into the balloon's basket and moments later he and Cecil lifted off into the sky.

Unfortunately they did not descend where they were intended to, and after the crowd parted ways from the demonstration Teagan assigned Blaise to accompany Mel and myself to recover it and its "crew". We made our way out into the woods, with Blaise pointing out the trail of destruction it had left as it descended through the trees to guide us on our way. We encountered local wildlife only once - a pair of wolves accosted us as we drew near to the downed balloon, but I was able to drive them off, thanks to being able to threaten them in the witch-tongue. If only I had seen the warning for what it was....

The sound of a shout alerted us to John's nearby presence, and following the noise led us to a small hut in the woods. I charged in to lend aid, and found myself face to face with a nightmare I had long thought forgotten. The hags had not forgotten me, though, and I was very swiftly the target of her assault.

I cannot remember clearly the exchange that followed. Her raven familiar fled through the window, and though I managed to strike it with one shot it was not enough to put it out of the sky, and the creature escaped to bear its message to fouler terrors further east. The hag herself disappeared, then attacked. I remember screaming and cowering in terror while Grom leaped to my defense. I remember bullets flying and managing to utter one spell at least, pinning my tormentor in place, then Mel put a bullet through her head.

I refused to release the tether until the corpse ceased to bleed. Once it had, though, I rushed into the hut, eager to destroy the creature's foul magic before burning its body. I found the scroll, that dreaded scroll, the one I knew it would have, and hurriedly crushed it into the fire. I sought to feed the potions, accursed thought-bending potions, to the hungry flames, but they doused them instead. I struck flint until it burned, but the wood would not catch, no matter what I tried.

The others were doing something behind me. Searching the hut for treasure or information, likely. I know not. I care not. I will start this flame again, I will finish the job. I must. I will burn the body, then burn down the hut, lest her magic pervade it as well. I will leave naught but ash behind. It must be done.

They know I live. We could not kill the familiar in time; even wounded, it escaped.

She will know I am alive.

She will know I am here.

And She will know one of her daughters is dead at my hand. Who dealt the killing blow is irrelevant.

Gods save me.

The nightmares will begin again tonight.

Some people are apparently not made for long journeys. We were not at sea five days before John grew so restless he began running rampantly about the ship. We attempted several methods by which to calm him - giving him excess work, convincing him to rest, or simply letting him run himself ragged - but the line was apparently drawn when Mel suggested putting him in a pickle barrel. When the crew fetched one, John became violent and moved to toss it over the side of the ship, forcing me to intervene by using one of my newly-mastered spells to stop him in his tracks. The captain eventually offered him a few drinks of his cider - an alcoholic variant, unbeknownst to John - and he calmed significantly, though he spent the following day with a miserable hangover. I was impressed by this offering, and arranged with Teagan an offer of a trade - one barrel of my vodka for one of her cider, and an exchange of the associated recipes.

We spent the next few days aboard the vessel, with Mel and I working on our various crafts while John managed to busy himself with tasks. Approximately a month and a half from our departure from Caislean, we spotted land - a lone island, which the captain and Teagan had intended to dock at for a short stop, presumably to avail the ship of fresh water if available. John, eager to be on dry ground again, declared his intent to head inland, and Mel and I chose to accompany him.

On the isle, we found several ruined buildings, heavily scoured with water damage. Searching through one of the ruins uncovered a pair of golden rings and a necklace, seemingly a couple's jewelry left behind in whatever tragedy had struck this place. At the crossing of a nearby stream, we spotted unusual movement in the water; investigating further discovered a Water Elemental lurking within the stream, which we put down swiftly.

As we explored further, finding more ruined buildings but no further left-behind treasure, we found yet another Water Elemental lurking in a small lake; this one swiftly retreated from us and began creating a whirlpool, which caused the clouds overhead to darken and a larger Elemental formed of thunderheads to descend. This we managed to waylay with bullets and the aid of a small celestial aid I summoned, until the creature tired of trading blows with John and charged Mel, badly injuring her knees and ribs. I managed to lay a curse on it, weakening it significantly, then John and I battered it further with fist and spell until it fell. I moved to treat Mel's injuries, expending several potions in the process, then John carried her back to the ship.

Apparently rumors spread fast in Caislean.

After dealing with O'Brien, we returned to the tavern and availed ourselves of a meal. John once more attempted to come between me and my drink; after I put in no uncertain terms that he would not be keeping me from my alcohol, he stepped out of the room for a bit, and when he returned was sprinkled with some kind of white powder. We later identified this as some kind of narcotic root, and were at a loss as to where he'd gotten it, but for the meantime we were distracted when he suddenly began raving about seeing spiders. He then bolted out into the street, and Mel and I resignedly abandoned our finished meals and the comfort of the inn - and in my case the vast array of alcohol John had mistakenly ordered then attempted to keep from me - to go retrieve him.

When we got outside though, we found a mob had gathered headed toward the center of town, with none other than O'Brien in tow. I left Mel to keep an eye on John and ran back on dogback to the ship to inform Dame Marchand of the situation; she seemed intrigued, but disinclined to participate, so I ran back to my companions to give them the response. By the time I arrived Mel had spoken with a local officer and been convinced to wade into the crowd to retrieve O'Brien and escort him to safety. While she, the officer, and John fought their way into the crowd, I strapped down a small group with web and summoned a beetle to distract and attack the crowd, providing the captive some cover. (I'm still at this time not really sure why, other than it was what my companions were doing so I offered assistance more to them than him. We'd just spent how long tracking down the man and nearly killing him, and now we were coming to his rescue? I realize that mob justice is less desirable than other options, but still....)

Once clear we retreated into a nearby tunnel beneath the street that the officer had referred to a sewer. The rancid-smelling water beneath the city turned the entire trip into a nauseous stumbling through near-darkness, and I thanked the ages that I'd prepared light magic that day rather than my standard preparation to be on the lookout for toxins. John also came down from the exaltation of the intoxicant and began suffering from the aftereffects, reducing his energetic activity to pained lethargy. After encountering and scaring off several gangs of rats, we eventually found an exit some distance along, and after a difficult group effort to lift Grom up the ladder (at which I ended up doing much more of the work than I'd expected I would have...) we escorted O'Brien back to the prison cells, which the local officials had nearly filled to the brim with rioters, save an empty cell where the duplicitous merchant was stored safely away from his would-be murderers. The chief officer presented me with a pouch containing some gold for our trouble, and we returned to the La Maleficette and our waiting beds. The officer had been quite clear about wanting Teagan out of town, as apparently this kind of trouble tended to follow her about, and was pleased to hear that she'd said we'd be leaving upon the morrow.

Vodka.

Ja. Vodka indeed.

Never enough hexes! If I didn't have need to spend my feats on other things I'd be burning them all on it. Now I need to get back to my vodka... err I mean potions.

It didn't take long for the story to come out: someone had insulted Blaise's eyes - which, as he'd lost his glasses somewhere along the way, the officer could plainly see - and provoked him into a brawl in response. Mel told the story, short a few interruptions and sidetracks (including bringing up a rather unpleasant memory of a prior such imprisonment she and I had to deal with back in Vechen...), and eventually the officer pulled Dame Marchand aside to discuss bail. While they spoke, I overheard them mentioning a complaint about a recent shipment of Marchand goods; apparently there had been some complaint about the poor quality of the latest batch. Teagan claimed she had sent no such shipment, as she waited until a part of the year where stock was out of season before selling. Frustrated, she paid the bail for John, Mel, and Blaise, and we headed back to the ship to rest for the remainder of the night.

Along the way I inquired of her what had happened; she gave me a basic explanation of the situation, and her suspicion that someone was impersonating her sales to take advantage of her fame and expectation of high quality. She expressed a desire to continue investigations in detail come morning, and promised to wake us at an appropriate time before departing. We each returned to our bunks for the night.

When morning came, it was raining; despite this John was up with the dawn and attempting to resume cleaning the deck. Mel and I slept in until Dame Marchand came calling, then managed to drag ourselves out of bed and up onto the deck to share our plans for the day. We decided to split up, where the three of us would head to the local market to look for information while Teagan would question around the tavern where the brawl last night took place. While in the market, I managed to pick up some information from a local wine vendor: he had received his latest shipment of wine that normally bore the Marchand label from a shipper named O'Brien, but the quality had caused much complaint and lost him some of his business. In thanks I purchased another bottle, since he claimed to be out of the Marchand label, and headed back to the inn with the others in tow to meet with Teagan again.

She met me at the door and we stepped out to speak as a group; I relayed the information I knew, and Mel shared the knowledge she'd picked up that this O'Brien had a warehouse on the docks where his goods were stored. We divided up again, this time with Dame Marchand giving me an address on Loch Avenue to meet her at once we were done with our examinations. I volunteered to head off to the warehouse alone with only Ksusha, as we were both small and unlikely to be noticed sneaking about.

Upon arriving I found the building had only one entrance or exit, which was guarded by two unimpressive-looking sentinels; their discipline was noticeably lacking, with occasional needs causing one to leave the other unattended. After circumnavigating the building and finding nothing of interest behind or on either side, I struck one guard with a stunning scream audible only to her, then darted inside the open door and ducked behind some crates, luckily getting inside and hidden before she recovered or her partner returned from the bushes.

Examining the many crates inside, I noted they were painted recently with the Marchand emblem. At the rear of the warehouse I found some whose paint was older and flaked, and with the aid of my dagger I was able to scrape the emblem off, revealing blank wood beneath. Prying a crate open found some silk clothing, but of wretched quality; I took a few samples to show Teagan as proof of the deceit being perpetuated in her name. I snuck back to the entrance, waited for a guard to leave to tend to her business, then put the other to sleep. I then followed the other and as she turned to come back to her post I sent her off to slumber as well. Alone with the two unconscious thugs, I dragged them into the warehouse and tied them up to leave them for later, then headed to the rendezvous point, picking up Mel and John and Grom along the way. Mel mentioned some incident involving John and a pig, but I was too busy having her direct us to the given address to pursue it at the time.

At Loch Avenue we found Teagan waiting in front of a residence; I shared the information I had discovered in the warehouse, but before we could come up with a plan of action John approached a woman guarding the nearby house and demanded of her information regarding O'Brien; she prepared to draw her weapon, at which Teagan and I drew our pistols and shot her down. A dog in the yard began barking frantically, but Mel fired a warning shot at it and it scampered away, resisting my attempt to hex it to sleep as it fled. I had Grom drag the dead guard's body into the nearby doghouse to put it out of sight, while John broke down the door so we could enter.

Inside we were attacked by O'Brien leaping out of his bedroom door as soon as John neared the rear half of the house. We attempted to subdue at first, but eventually gave way to more lethal forms of combat, as Mel and Teagan fired at the smuggler; John continued to attempt to reduce him to mere unconsciousness, and I attempted to hex him to sleep but likewise without success. He fled back into his room, and Teagan leaped out the window come in the other inside the room while I cloaked the far wall and other window with web to prevent him from using that for an escape. He attempted to cut it down with his dagger to no avail, and Mel, John, and Grom all charged into the room, trapping him in a corner, swiftly joined by Teagan climbing back in through the window and I myself bringing up the rear. I managed to lay a few more of my hexes on him while my companions whittled him down, and eventually Grom latched onto his heel and pulled his feet out from beneath him, knocking his head against a nearby bedpost and rendering him unconscious.

Mel tied him up and Teagan instructed us to leave him here; seeing him securely bound, I dismissed the web spell and followed the others out. As we departed we stopped back at the inn, where Teagan reported that O'Brien's smuggling had been taking goods and supplies from Oragean military ships... a rumor that will certainly be the end of the man's financial prosperity if not his life, if it latches on. Seeing the way the woman twists words, I would be quite surprised to find it not.

She continued on to the ship, while the three of us and Grom and Ksusha remained at the inn, taking what I believe to be a well-deserved break for food and rest.

Jason Bulmahn wrote:

...only completing deeds for the sake of more mythic levels).

I read this as "the saké of more mythic levels." Mmmm... mythic-level saké...

... you have my attention.

Well, brewing some mythic sake (and then using it to help kill a mythic beast) certainly gained one mythological character a new mythic level (and a nifty new sword, which probably added another level).

HAH! I can't believe I didn't think of that myself. Well played.

TOZ wrote:

...so, what do you do one round later?

Fabricate some potatoes into vodka and have a cocktail.

I side with this man, he is wise. *raises flask*

After spending two weeks preparing for the journey, aiding Dame Marchand with arrangements, and spending time pouring over my cauldron, we at last set sail aboard the La Maleficette, her steam-powered ship, headed north to the isle of Caislean. The journey took less than two days, but that little bit was more than enough for John to grow restless; after inquiring of several crew members with his odd questions, the ship's captain decided to put him to work scrubbing the deck, which he took to immediately and without question. Mel and I spent the days just relaxing, though I did set some more time aside to brew new stores of vodka, having appropriated potatoes in Apogee for the purpose of supplying the journey ahead. My brewing caught the attention of some of the crew, who after taking an offered vial as a test of my liquor purchased more for two silver a bottle, not a bad price compared to what I paid for the potatoes. By the end of the second day I had brewed several more as well as a few potions, and was happy to slip into bed and sleep the night away.

Except to find myself woken by Mel sometime in the middle of the night, long before sunrise, saying we had arrived in Caislean. As it was the middle of the night and we surely would not be restocking before morning I declined to get out of bed; however when she and John did not return themselves within a matter of minutes I dragged myself out of bed and took Grom and Ksusha for a walk about the town and perhaps a drink before heading back to bed, presuming that my compatriots and Blaise, who also was missing from the ship, had headed for a local bar.

Along the way, we ran into Elea, who was running back to the ship; she claimed to be looking for Dame Marchand, and that a fight had broken out at the bar. I arrived shortly after to find Mel standing on the bar waving her gun about while fending off a group of barflies while Blaise and John were in the middle of the throng. Grom's barking failed to get a response other than a demand by the bouncer to remove animals from the building. Moments later a uniformed officer arrived, and authorized me to end the fight if I could. I pinned down everyone in the group with a web, then cut the bartender free while the officer dragged the lot of them, including John and Mel, to the local prison. I waited at the bar with my animal compatriots until Teagan and Elea arrived, then led them to retrieve our fellows.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the officer recognized our employer as soon as she arrived. Maybe now I'll find out just what went on in there before I arrived.

After doing what we could to clean out the carriage, we bore the stench of the fish for the journey back to Apogee. We inquired of each other a little on the journey back, though I forget much of the particulars I remember very strongly that Cecil mentioned working on a flying machine! Apparently in this land they have balloons so great and so strong that they can carry vessels the size of a carriage, and he was working on plans for one as large as a ship. Blaise expressed great distrust of such an object, and I have to admit Mel and I found it near-unbelievable as well. We eventually dismissed that part of the conversation and moved on, and the journey back was much less fraught with interruption this time around.

Upon returning to Manor Marchand, Cecil immediately departed with his materials, and Blaise into the depths of the mansion; Mel quickly requested a bath, and Zeph led her away, while John found his way to the food storage where, I learned later, Dame Marchand confronted him for pilfering through her food storage without permission. I know not the details of this arrangement but she apparently requested an unnamed favor from him some time in the future, to which John agreed; he was later approached by Blaise, who admonished him for taking such a foolish action, which encouraged him - intently or not - to seek to have the deal revoked somehow. Dame Marchand however would have none of it, and rebuffed his many attempts to change the arrangement.

Once he was gone, she and I began discussing the details of our impending journey. I explained what I knew of Mel and my journey to here in the first place, and the impossibility of making such a trip in the short time we did, with the meager supplies we possessed, and surviving circumnavigating the globe to reach Terra Occasiae on the opposite side of Idryma. Teagan had an old, restored historical tome that contained some information on the initial journey to the isle after the Cataclysm; thanks to advancements in technology (Orage and its neighboring territories apparently possess fully-iron, steam-powered sea vessels - far greater capability than anywhere in Idryma!) we were able to discern that the journey back to Sibbecoss, the nearest region, would take only a matter of three months, give or take. We would spend the next few weeks gathering supplies and making preparations, then travel to the isle of Caislean for further such before at last setting off across the ocean eastbound.

After we parted ways, I went to track down my companions; I found them moments later outside Dame Marchand's office; John seemed agitated and panicked, demanding that we leave this place immediately. It took me several minutes to calm him enough to explain, but before he could Teagan returned and he flew into a panic again, shouting accusations and other nonsense I could make neither good nor ill of. I pulled him aside to explain while Mel and Ksusha placed themselves between us and our benefactor. In lower tones, he explained to me the situation regarding his debt to her and his distrust instilled (I presume) by Blaise's unnecessary paranoia, calling her a "dishonorable person" and claiming that naught good would come of us remaining here, a claim he rebuffed with greater fervor when Dame Marchand offered to allow us to remain on her estate rather than reside at the inn. Mel and I however managed to convince him to calm slightly and to stay with us here, and despite his reservations he eventually relented. I did promise that I would discuss the situation with him later in private.

In the meantime, I asked him to accompany me to the inn to retrieve my belongings, primarily my alchemy equipment, the painting we'd found in the theatre with the Phantom, and my pack mule. I brought the painting to Teagan for her appraisal, explaining some of the nature of the pictured hag and the identity of the human man she was clutching, who I'd not noticed in my prior but short glance at the design. It was none other than Baren Pavel Sokol, lord of one of the northern regions of my homeland Vechen. I inquired of her and John if this was the Lai-Kan painting witchcraft I had heard mentioned by Elea; neither were able to give me a conclusive action, mainly due to the nature of Lai-Kan being that its magic cannot be decisively identified as such until the act portrayed comes to pass, or merely mundane painting if it does not. She was able to price it for me, and claimed the potential value could double if it was conclusively proven to be prophetical; however there was no maker's mark nor signature upon the painting, so even the circumstantial evidence of linking the picture to the work of an oft-proven seer or fraud was unavailable to us.

We parted ways once more, John deciding to leave the manor for a while and Mel returning to the bath he had interrupted; I headed to retrieve Grom, who was waiting patiently at the front door, and headed to my newly-assigned room. Grom and Ksusha made themselves comfortable while I settled to attempt to decipher the puzzle box we'd found in the bandit camp near Oak Hollow. It was inscribed with the riddle "A river of me you would fear, but without me you would not be" and five spinning panes that sorted through the entirety of the Sibben alphabet. I tried the obvious first, "water", but that failed; "magic", likewise, was ineffective. Though it didn't really fit I tried "vodka" but it too was not the solution, but the correct answer - "blood" was quick to follow. Hidden within was a simple golden brooch in the shape of an owl, adorned with ruby chips for eyes; I checked it for magic and finding none pinned it to my cloak and stored the box for safe keeping until I could decide what to do with it. Somewhere along the line Mel returned from her bath and we shared discussion for a while regarding John's strange behavior, Dame Marchand and our plans for returning home, and the events of the past few days; she also presented me with a wand of prestidigitation she'd acquired from the local market, having recognized my frustration as not having the immensely-useful wizard's spell available through my witchcraft, for which I thanked her greatly.

We parted again, and I spent the remainder of the day replenishing the potions we had used prior, and stocking new ones as well as practicing a new art I'd decided to attempt, applying my magic to a more permanent, dormant state by entrapping it within cold crystal, creating a portable, stable dose of magic that could be activated by anyone simply by shattering its container.

"Gah" is "Hag" spelled backwards.

ACK! *draws pistol*

I found myself woken at the break of dawn by a combination of a rooster crowing and Ksusha demanding attention or food. Mel was up and about as were Blaise and Cecil, while John was sitting up sleeping on a hay bale in the corner. He roused on his own despite ignoring or not feeling my proddings and attempts to wake him prior, leaping to his feet and demanding breakfast. It was not to be for some time though, as we had a few hours' ride still ahead of us; I slept the majority of this journey, and thus recall little of the events thereof. I suspect John did much talking, as he usually does in an unfamiliar situation, while Mel might have gotten some more rest while we rode.

We arrived in the town of Oak Hollow some time later, and slightly more rested I roused myself and we headed to the local tavern and inn with Blaise while Cecil headed to a nearby "faktoree" to retrieve the item we had come for. We of course ordered meals and saw to tending our hungers, then John was once more struck by the urge to wander and attempted to cajole Blaise into joining us in our excursion in the city. He ultimately refused and I convinced John to leave him be while we looked about.

We first headed to the general store we'd passed coming into town, where John and Mel browsed the shelves while I waited at the door with Grom; Mel purchased more bullets, while John seemingly enamored with obtaining fish purchased quite a few and carried them out by hand. We milled about the town a short time longer, then noticed Blaise and Cecil both approaching the car; the latter, in a state of near rage, reported he'd been mugged returning from the faktoree and opened the rear hatch of the carriage to retrieve a vast array of unusual-looking weaponry. Blaise and Mel initially attempted to dissuade him, but encouragement from John (despite the momentary distraction of dumping all his fish in the back of the carriage) and his own rage-driven stubbornness prevented it from being of any use. We chose to accompany him rather than have him charge into the woods of his own and risk further harm.

A short distance outside the village we came across a camp occupied by five men and a feral-looking dog. Mel and Blaise opened up with gunfire; the apparent leader of the group returned the shot, striking Mel in the arm, sending her into a panic from which she fled the battlefield for the entirety of the rest of the fight. I laid down a web that slowed their advance and held their hound at bay; at my urging Cecil used one of his devices to set the nearest brigand and the surrounding strands ablaze. The rest of the battle was a barrage of fire from our side, the occasional returned shot, spreading blaze, John pummeling those who came within reach or broke free of the webbing and snapping the rapier of one brigand who attacked, and Blaise drawing a dagger in place of his gun to jab at and disarm one bandit who came too close. The leader eventually broke free of the web, but before he could do much more to attack after already being badly wounded by my and Cecil's spells and gunfire, Cecil closed the gap between them and smashed the brigand's chest in with a single armor-enhanced punch. Meanwhile the dog finally managed to break free, and I chased it off into the woods rather than attempt to fight it down, while Blaise shot down a fleeing bandit.

Cecil retrieved the stolen goods plus the bandits' stash from the nearby tent before it caught flame, while John rounded up the unconscious brigands (why he chooses to subdue rather than use lethal force against enemies doing quite likewise, I may never understand) and left them in a safe portion of their camp; I chased down Mel, who had collapsed beneath a tree, and tended her injury while trying to talk her down from her panic. We regrouped with the others once she was back on her feet, then returned to town...

... where we were greeted by the rancid smell of fish left out for an hour or so in a summer morn's heat. I nearly lost control of my stomach right there, though Ksusha was happy to bound out of my pack and help herself while Cecil shoveled the fish out of the carriage; John attempted to eat one as well, but after taking only a single bite emptied his gut and fled for the riverside. It took us several minutes to get it cleared out and perhaps will take longer for the scent to fade, making me curse my inability to master the helpful utility of prestidigitation magic. In the meantime while we waited, I looked over the supplies Cecil had retrieved from the bandits' tent, identifying a couple of magical and alchemical trinkets as well as a few mundane items that might be of use or profit to us.

Hopefully the return trip to Apogee will be less ... "eventful".

Am I really the only person who tricks out their horse with magic armor, custom defensive items, and stoneskins it?

The only reason my hound doesn't have those is because I can't afford/make them yet!

As an addendum, I should mention that the gracious farmer rewarded our efforts with a cask of homemade moonshine. Unfortunately he deemed me "too young" for the liquor at first glance and turned the barrel over to Mel instead; after I recommended he take a second glance he apologized and blamed the late hour for the misunderstanding.

I realize I'm short but I'm very clearly not a child!

Probably best that I not drink untested alcohol then try to sleep immediately, though. I have vodka enough to get me by for days, I can spare one flask to encourage tonight's rest - the late hour alone would do and is doing that, but I find the alcohol helps - and give the moonshine its due diligence during the day when if anything is off about it I won't be interrupted from rest with the discovery.

With no better plan in mind, we eventually acquiesced to John's idea to offer himself as bait for the nightly stalker. After some debate, including a blunt rebuttal from Blaise demanding us do whatever but allow him to sleep and be ready to go come morning or risk being left behind. We bid Cecil farewell after Blaise went to rest in the carriage, then headed out into the fields. John, equipped with a glowing coin I had given him, strode out into the middle of the grounds by himself while Mel and I crouched in the foliage to wait.

Several hours passed, with John alternating between sitting and waiting and wandering about aimlessly making noise and scattering coins while we waited for something to happen. After quite some time of this with no luck, he began moving north, following what we later learned to be tracks heading through the fields; this eventually led us to the mouth of a cavern. I moved up with John to investigate, and found ourselves faced with a small bear emerging from within; I attempted to placate the creature with food, but as I drew too near it suddenly became hostile and attacked. John and Mel returned hostilities, but I was able to put the beast to sleep and spare it from being killed, allowing us to enter without further bloodshed.

Inside the cavern John led the way while Mel and I followed behind at the edge of the light from the coin. John encountered some creatures a short distance in, which we later learned were badgers, but managed not to draw their ire until we were deeper into the cave. Near its rearmost extents, we stumbled across four humans - three teenage boys and a girl, all bound and gagged. When John attempted to question them, the badgers moved to attack, forcing us to defend ourselves.

They were swiftly joined by an old man with a staff, who battered John viciously and resisted my initial attempts to lay misfortune upon him; he was less resistant, however, to my cold powder, Grom pulling his legs out from beneath him, or John clubbing him over the head repeatedly. Mel never managed to frighten the madman with her repeated attacks and threats, but she did manage to chase off the badgers before we had to kill more than two of them. We managed, eventually, to subdue the man with a combination of physical force and witchcraft, and Mel bound him while John and I freed the captives.

The four prisoners revealed they had been captured by the bear - two of the boys while working in the fields, the other two while slipping off to a secluded location nearby for a lovers' tryst - and bound by its master after being brought in. John and Mel searched the area and secured any items of value they found before bringing the unconscious kidnapper out, while I escorted the former prisoners out of the cave and kept watch on the now-docile bear to prevent another potential attack. We thankfully were able to pass without incident, and returned to the farmer's barn with our prisoner, sending the young pair to fetch the farmer despite the late hour.

After waking the prisoner, we questioned him and found he had not been the one instigating the kidnappings; rather, desiring to be left alone and not found, he had instructed his bear companion to take prisoner anyone who wandered too near the cave at night. Apparently he was incapable of giving the creature more sufficient training? Or binding it with rope and harness to prevent it traveling far from the cave? Whatever his reasons, we eventually turned him over to the farmer, against John's protests that he not be harmed, to face whatever justice this land deems him deserving of.

After some short further discussion we all settled to rest, hoping to gain a few hours' respite before dawn comes despite the late hour.

Orc on Mel's shoulder and recovered loot in hand, we returned to Manor Marchand to deliver the brigand directly to the lady of the house, intending to interrogate him as soon as he was firmly bound and woken. Dame Marchand offered us the use of her office for the task, and after Mel had securely tied him in place I roused him from his battered unconscious state and proceeded to question him. Initially recalcitrant, early attempts at persuasion proved much for naught until sufficient offer of threat was made; while at first such barbed words seemed to only make his resistance more fierce, he eventually broke beneath our words and surrendered at least a little information.

Indeed he was from Idryma, specifically from Sibbecoss; his arrival in Terra Occasiae was approximately one year prior, due to a mishap during a scuffle with a gnome wizard who by luck or immense skill dispensed him well across the world and by some measure of fate deposited him on a ship rather than in the midst of the sea as probably intended. Upon arrival in Apogee, he claimed the theatre as the only place he could find where he would remain undiscovered, and from there began systematically exterminating those who infringed upon his newly-claimed domain or dared to attempt to remove him, until us. He readily admitted his guilt at this point, and claimed to have no fear of death at our hands. Unable to elicit more from him, and having found little of use in what he did tell us - for he refused to give a name, or be more specific as to his origins - we stepped out of the chamber for the time being to allow Dame Marchand to speak with him in private.

While we waited for our employer, I attempted to discern why John had become disgruntled and leery during the discourse; the man eventually admitted that he disliked the idea of administering punishment through "a life for a life", answering death with death. I inquired as to how justice should be dealt against a murderer to avenge those whose lives he had cut short, to which John admitted he did not yet have an answer.

Further discussion was cut short by the sound of scuffling from Dame Marchand's chambers; as we moved to investigate an unfamiliar gentleman armed with a rifle and wearing glasses that darkly shaded his eyes descended the nearby stairs and seemed about to enter the office until Mel's approach distracted him. He introduced himself as her bodyguard, and though at the time he gave no names the timely emergence of our employer revealed it to be Blaise, though no surname was ever given. We soon learned that the Phantom, whoever he had been, had taken the first second where Teagan released him from his bonds to lunge for the small silvaurem plant on her shelf and devour a handful of berries, very swiftly committing suicide at the hand of their veracious poison.

A chance movement by Blaise, lifting his glasses ever so slightly, gave me a short glimpse at his eyes, and with horror I noted their mismatched hues. Stricken with panic and terror I did the only thing I could do - draw the sawbacked dagger I had intended to use if the situation with the captive had called for it, and held the much-larger gunman at knifepoint. In retrospect I must have looked foolish, taut between rage and dismay as I was and waving a tiny weapon at a foe over twice my height and thrice my weight, but in the moment I could do naught else. After some time of traded threats, demands, and questions, I realized the error of my initial assumptions and retracted my assault, offering repeated apologies for the mistaken identity and withdrawing from the manor for the evening, after making plans with Dame Marchand to accompany Blaise and the young man Cecil in their journey the following morn to a nearby city for supplies.

We returned to the inn for the night, divided up the coin of the spoils, and retired for the evening; I will need, when time is available, to have the rest of the treasure save the painting appraised for worth and take what is not necessary to be sold. That I shall need to speak with Madam Elea about, regarding the Jian artistry magic she mentioned, to see if it is the source of this hideous display or some mere mortal work of twisted depravity. For the time being though, I spent the rest of the evening in my meditations and rest, ate a swift breakfast the following morn, then departed to the market to seek a specific set of supplies - a mule, to take the less-glamorous task of carting our worldly belongings from Grom's back, and barding to shield my faithful hound from further harm.

Once those were acquired, we made our way back to Manor Marchand shortly before noon. There Teagan, Blaise, and Cecil awaited us, along with a mechanized carriage the make of which I had never seen. The lady of the manor was not to accompany us for this trip, so the three of us clamored into the back bench as well as we could, with Grom lying on the floor beneath us as the only place he could fit. The machine, without aid of magic or beast of burden, managed to move of its own accord after only several turns of a large handle by Blaise and the manipulation of some sort of control device in front of the forward bench.

The machine moved swiftly, far faster than any carriage I had ridden in before, and much quicker than Grom or even lone horses. Cecil was talkative for the majority of the journey, and it was rather obvious after some short observation that Blaise was not entertained by his near-limitless discussion of the vehicle; encouragement by Mel or John seemed only to disgruntle him further. The final straw was when Cecil inquired as to where we were from; seeing no reason to keep it further secret, especially from fellow employees of our new patron, I simply gestured for Mel to explain... at which point Blaise brought the carriage to a sudden screeching halt and declared the entire mission we had requested of Dame Marchand to be a madman's snipe hunt. (Mel, not knowing what a snipe was, needed to be reminded of legends such as Baba Yaga's Hut and such other strange things - mysterious places, locales, or creatures that either did not exist or would mean death to any fool who dared seek them out.)

Perhaps mentioning the Old Witch by name was a foolish act on my part, for mere minutes later the machine sputtered to a halt, and Cecil declared the mechanism damaged and in need of lengthy repair, delaying our journey til nightfall at least. We all disembarked and scattered ourselves about the surrounding clearing, with Blaise claiming a nearby rock while I reclined with Grom on the grass and Mel sat aside working on repairing my jammed pistol. John initially attempted to aid Cecil with the repairs, but his enthusiasm didn't much help his unfamiliarity with the task, and when he became frustrated and attempted to "repair" the vehicle by striking it, he succeeded only in kicking off the winding lever that had been used to start the mechanism in the first place. Thankfully I was able to mend it back into place, and Mel stepped in to work in his place; being a little more familiar with such things, she was able to offer some assistance and slightly speed up the work, and we departed within two hours.

We did not make our destination in time, but near sundown we were nearing a small village when a man stepped into the road and waved us to halt. He informed us that the region was under a curfew, and those who remained out at night risked assault from some shadowy stalker; he generously offered us his barn for the night, to rest and take shelter from whatever the nightly hunter was, and after some debate we accepted. As we made ourselves comfortable, he informed us about the attacks - they had begun approximately a fortnight ago, without fanfare or other noticeable cause, and the attacker seemed attracted to reflective objects. The farmer's son had been among those taken, as well as a girl he had been seeing in the nearby village. Unfortunately no further information was available at the time, and after some sparse questioning we were left to ourselves for the night.

Shortly after he departed, John expressed his desire to seek this nightly attacker, going so far as to offer himself and his gold as bait. Before we can undertake such an attempt, however, we must first formulate a more detailed plan. At least, that's what I'd hope we do. Sometimes with John you simply cannot know until he acts.

So, the Int-dumped monk just kicked a part off of a Model-T equivalent. He has learned that that is now how repair checks work.

I fixed it, but if this is how future "repairs" will go I am wondering if I should invest heavily in make whole. Which is irritatingly not a spell I am normally in possession of; I should invest in scrolls when we return to the city. And when I have more coin.

Just one more thing on the list.