Theodore Black

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24/12/13, 24/12/20 & 25/01/17 - Sessions 81, 82, & 83 - Eye of the Storm
Fireday, 1st Abadius, Dorjanala, Westcrown, Longmarch

Too long has it been since I last recounted the exploits of our righteous quest. Speaker of the Divine Order Lord Vipostix has of course been monitoring our mission closely as of late, so my own reports have been unnecessary. I took this time to take charge of my recently inherited role as Archbaron. As the Inferno Gate technically resides within my domain, responsibility for its continued rulership falls to me.

Part of that mandate has been the organisation of the Infernal forces we have brought forth to restore Order to Westcrown. It has been a true pleasure to set my ever-growing legions upon this most important of tasks, and to great effect, might I add. High Priest Garestic and Paralictor Chard have been truly helpful as well in pinpointing the critical points of control within the city. Ser Quintus has also served me well as a troubleshooter. Once we are done with our mission, I have a mind to take him on for my personal retinue, as Father Dexsius no longer seems to have need of his services.

My comrades have not been idle, of course. Lord Vipostix regales me with their exploits in service to the Divine Order, and it would seem they are doing splendidly. Much of the Reclamation’s heresy has been cleansed, with but a few blemishes left to scrub.

One such blemish was brought not just to their attention, but mine. The Dorjanala, a place of both Chelish royal history and a beacon of Arodenite faith, remains an obstacle to the complete dedication of Westcrown to its rightful masters. We recognised this to be the work of Bellinia Dorjana, the Chelaxian high priestess of Iomedae, known as the Silvereye for her rather unique blessing. To complete our work, we would have to remove her.

Much as I respect my allies, they lack the understanding of this mission’s significance, knowledge that I possess. They surely see this as another rebel attempting to defy Hell, but that is an oversimplification of the ritual at play. High Priestess Dorjana, blessed with the vision and role that she has, surely understands that the Divine Order’s blessing requires not just the authority of Hell, but the submission of Heaven. As the Inheritor of Aroden’s will, it is Iomedae’s responsibility to formally complete the transfer of ownership. Likewise, as the descendant of Chelish royalty, it is High Priestess Dorjana’s responsibility to formally cede Westcrown to House Thrune. This is a necessary pact for the proper completion of the Pentagram Ritual, one that we must not neglect any further.

For that reason, I chose to join my companions on this particular mission. It is best that I be there to ensure that the transfer of power is completed correctly, after all. Lady Arcatraz, knowledgeable in rituals as she is, opted to leave this one to us, as this was first and foremost a ritual steeped in religious significance.

As always, Mister Kezax took the vanguard, scouting the Dorjanala. The site was unmistakably bathed in the Inheritor’s light, protected not just by its attendants, but by the Lady of Valor herself. The Light within the Shadow made for splendid imagery. It filled me with anticipation for the eclipse that would come.

Temoni’s magic and Othiel’s divinely structured presence ensured that the barriers would not prevent our arrival. None greeted us, though the sounds of prayer emanated from the conservatory. High Priestess Dorjana and her acolytes surely expected our arrival, and had wasted no time in preparing the site of the ritual.

Before we could join them, Othiel declared our arrival with a wail of ecstasy, a cry that alerted us to the presence of other guests. A group of wolf-like beings were waiting in one of the side rooms. I’ve long understood the symbolism of hounds as the guardians of thresholds. So many times, even going as far back as the rebels in Longacre and my very first mission upon returning from my pilgrimage, they have been a symbol of my taking a step into a new phase. Clearly, these beings, so far from home, served a similar purpose.

As I got to work completing the first stage of the ritual, Father Dexsius continued to the conservatory. In that moment, he faced the next test, one that challenged his strength of devotion. Much like House Thrune, thrice he was damned with the words of Destruction, and then struck with the fires of perdition. An unworthy representative would have surely perished, but Father Dexsius did not falter in the face of this test. I thank the Divine Order to have granted me such a stalwart ally, as I can think of none better to hold its virtues with such unrelenting determination.

As Father Dexsius held his ground and I tended to the hound-men, Paraduke Kennari and Mister Kezax saw to the attendants at our rear. Surely, as representatives of the Inheritor, a test of strategic acumen would be needed, so an ambush ought to be expected. The priests divided our battle with walls of blades, leaving Othiel with me and the Paraduke with his summoned earth elemental and Mister Kezax to support him. Clearly, the next test would be whether we could be divided and conquered, as surely the servants of the Divine Order would maintain unity at all times. The High Priestess sought proof by attempting to remove some of Father Dexsius’ protective magic. The Paraduke, despite being obstructed, still came to his ally’s aid and denied this, once more proving our righteousness.

For the next test, Father Dexsius would have his faith tested. The hound-men, satisfied with my performance but needing to prevent interference for this stage, covered the corridor with sleet. This allowed High Priestess Dorjana to focus her attention on the Asmodaean. She struck him with a powerful word of magic that could not be refuted. Under any other circumstance, no mortal could withstand such an utterance. Here, it was not Father Dexsius’ personal strength that was tested, but his faith. By invoking Lord Asmodeus against impossible odds, he proved his devotion, and in doing so, averted certain death.

If there was any doubt left in Father Dexsius’ worthiness as an avatar of Hell’s authority, it was snuffed out in that moment.

The hound-men departed in that moment for the conservatory, which made clear that it was my turn to join in the next test. Paraduke Kennari was kind enough to remove the storm that raged, giving me passage to join Father Dexsius. There, I saw a ghaele azata poised to strike at him. Perhaps some might question why filth from Elysium would enter such a place of sacred Order, but its purpose was clear. Just as Desxius proved that the Divine Order must hold firm against all challenges, I needed to prove that we are able to strike back at the nefarious forces that would erode us. After the magnificent performances thus far, I could not be lacking. I was not, and my sword struck as true as it should.

By this point, Paraduke Kennari and Mister Kezax had done enough with the rear guard to leave what remained to the elemental and join us in the conservatory to begin the offensive. We had done admirably thus far, but the test was not yet done. High Priestess Dorjana called forth magic befitting Iomedae’s representative. None save Othiel and myself, as servants who recognise the Inheritor’s graceful role within the Divine Order, were granted the next privilege: an audience with Iomedae herself!

Brief as it was, I could not allow the opportunity to go to waste. I pledged before the Lady my undying devotion to the cause of the Divine Order, that I would see the mission she had set before us to completion. Her High Priestess, who so graciously offered herself as the sacrifice for such an important ritual, would be handled with the utmost respect, and soon I would see to it that Her chosen Alexeara Cansellarion is properly shepherded into the Divine Order, as she so clearly wished. Exalted as I was, I was unable to register the words she spoke to me, though I need not hear them to know their contents. I have not a shred of doubt in my mind that she is proud of the services I have done for her and the Divine Order.

When I returned to the plane of mortals, Othiel was still wrapped in his communion. As a celestial himself, I understand his desire to remain in that blessed place for a while longer.

While I had been speaking to the Inheritor, the clerics had turned their attention to the Paraduke. Though the strength of his devotion is admirable, the depth of his faith are not as profound as that of Father Dexsius nor I, so while he passed, it was with some difficulty. Fortunately, in his wisdom he used the last of his strength to join Father Dexsius, who returned him to form. The Divine Order is a testament that a whole is greater than the sum of its parts, and so too is a band of comrades greater than any one agent.

Contributions from Father Dexsius, Mister Kezax, and even Miss Zylstra brought an end to the test, ending the attendant clerics. I personally saw to the azata. A single hound-man pledged itself to its new purpose, and was generously taken in by Lord Vipostix. A single cleric remained in the main hall, keeping Tayapket and the Paraduke’s elemental preoccupied so as not to disrupt the final ritual.

With all of her trials completed, all that remained for High Priestess Dorjana was to submit to the final stage that would mark the complete transition of power. Naturally to prevent any mishaps, I took measures to ensure that any involuntary reflexes such as a flailing limb would not interfere. Mister Kezax was kind enough to assist; bolts make excellent stakes.

As Father Dexsius is our representative of Lord Asmodeus, apex deity of the Divine Order’s hierarchy and recipient of the ritual’s charge, it was appropriate that he oversee the ritual. I merely uttered words of thanks to the Blessed Hierarchy for this glorious evolution. Every Duke of Hell bore witness through the stained glass as the Inheritor’s light relinquished its hold over the ancient bastion to the Infernal Masters.

Once before, at the Winter Grove, we heard the approving voice of the Dark Prince, and now, we were granted the wondrous gift of hearing it again, as he claimed the High Priestess’ soul in honour of the new pact finally sealed upon Westcrown. Never before have I witnessed such a beautiful sight or heard such beautiful cries! I pray only that I might see it again, to bless us when we complete our quest and I am finally able to elevate Lady Cansellarion to her rightful place beside me as a fellow herald of the Divine Order!

GM's Notes: This ended up being a pretty long fight, with a final narrated conclusion in the final session as Dexsius pulled his sequence of debuffs and damnations for the final ritual. In-game, this took place on new year's day, while IRL the fight spanned our own new year, an amusing detail.

As you might have noticed, I brought Dom back to narrate this one. The party specifically requested to bring him along, and it felt appropriate given the subject matter. He spent most of the fight tearing apart the adlets (this campaign really loves throwing dogs at you in one form or another; the fact that these ones were basically proto-Yaros from our Starfinder game was a funny anecdote I didn't really acknowledge in the journal). Then he had one opportunity to come in and save Dexsius from a rare instance of a creature that could hurt him (the azata), and he immediately got a crit. His blade did not falter indeed. I love it when the dice play along.

If you're wondering what hit Dexsius in that surprise attack when he opened the conservatory doors, it was three Destructions and a Flame Strike. I had all the enemies in this fight pre-buff, and I slapped the Divine Guardian template on ol' Silvereye. That plus a few spell adjustments made the fight a proper challenge for this monster of a party. The ambush attack would have downed literally any other party member, and Dexsius only made it because he made every single save (he is admittedly really good at not failing saves). It couldn't have played out more perfectly.

As for the other thing that nearly killed him, that was Silvereye hitting him with Power Word Kill while he was still weakened by all the heavy spells. By RAW he would have died, but I allowed him to use his Divine Interference to force Silvereye to reroll her spell penetration against his SR, and he used the highest level spell in his repertoire to drop the check. Even with that, she only barely failed, but it made for a perfect moment as Asmodeus came in and denied what was probably the single strongest act of aggression Dex has ever received.

Paraduke Kennari almost dying was a case of him eating an Implosion spell from Silvereye and being left at exactly staggered. He used it to dimensional slide over to Dex. I also wanted to include the mention of his horrid wilting spell on the garden, which was both an effective attack and a cool narrative moment in the fight against this site's blessings, but I couldn't quite fit it organically in the journal's flow, so I'll just mention it here.

Finally, that bit about Dom seeing Iomedae was Silvereye casting Overwhelming Presence, which affected Dom and Othiel. I reflavoured it as her literally invoking Iomedae to come down and smack some sense into these corrupted individuals. Then Dom rolled a nat20 on his very next save against the effect, so I played it as him being so deep in his corruption that he bragged to Iomedae about how he was going to kill her high priestess and corrupt her mortal herald, and declared it as her bidding. Literally left her baffled. That was another pretty special moment at the table. As for Othiel, he didn't make a single save, so he was just stuck there struggling against his conditioning the whole time.

Something that was funny in game but didn't make for good journal text was the one remaining cleric at the front entrance. By the time I decided the fight was over (all the clerics had left were a bunch of healing spells, and I didn't want to prolong the inevitable at that point), he was still doing fairly well health-wise. However, he was stuck in an endless loop. The earth elemental was knocking him into a wall and forcing him to fall prone, then attacking him when he got up, just to do it again on the next round. Tubthumping by Chumbawamba may have been referenced in response to this situation.

Anyway, for the next segments we've decided that we'll skip a couple of the side missions and just do the noble intrigue and bridge fights before moving on to the final dungeon. The duxotar and prison barge missions will essentially be a narrated segment of what Dom, Quintus, and the NPCs have been doing while the main party's been busy. Might be a while yet before the next journal, but we are starting to see a light at the end of this infernal tunnel!


25/01/21 - 44 - Linear Assault
Thirday, 6th Rova, 322 AG, Unknown Necrobot Facility

The tomb sentinel was absolutely terrifying to witness first hand. Given its size and ferocity, I’m very glad we opted to funnel it through a small doorway. Thanks to that, Meved was able to hold the frontline while the rest of us peppered it with shots from a distance. Admittedly the positioning made getting a clean shot difficult, let alone finding a vulnerable spot through its armour, but similarly its own attacks were limited thanks to Meved’s sturdy defensive position. Fearsome though it might have been, in a battle of attrition we simply had the greater claw and firepower.

As we pushed forward, we passed by the window that offered a glimpse into the rest of our greater location. I only got a brief look, so I couldn’t learn much more than we had from the scarab, but I could at least confirm that what we witnessed was not an anomaly from our digital imaging. Either the location had an immense canopy of some kind, or we were indeed under a starless sky.

My observations were interrupted by the vanguards of our team running into a patrol of necrobot soldiers. Meved wasted no time in charging them through the narrow corridor, forcing them to backpedal. Yaro pushed forward as well, which admittedly worried me given his recent near brush with death, but he more than demonstrated that he was able to handle himself against a simple necrobot soldier. In fact, the absolute feat of swordplay he demonstrated reminded me of the famous Sarenite whirling dervish techniques. I never knew Yaro was a practitioner of that style. It leaves me to wonder if there are some other tricks that dog might be hiding from me…

[Editor’s Note: Scrap that last line. There I go again, committing thoughts to record that are best left unwritten…]

The soldiers didn’t end up being much of a threat. We’d grown so accustomed to dealing with tougher units that they seemed weak by comparison. Still, they weren’t to be underestimated, so I disabled some of their combat capabilities for good measure while the rest of our group went in for the finishing blows.

We found ourselves with two rooms in our immediate vicinity. One we knew to be the location of the facility’s main power station, while the other was the room with the bodyguards and suspicious sarcophagus. We opted to proceed directly to the sarcophagus room, which in retrospect might have been a mistake on our part. As soon as the doors opened, the immortals in the room opened fire on us. Fortunately, I too was ready for such an ambush. I managed to scramble one of their targeting systems before it could do some serious damage to Meved.

The start of our fight followed a typical flow. Meved charged in, this time ignoring the lynchguard at the front to go after the immortals. I believe the logic was to disrupt their heavy weapons and remove the smaller threats quickly, allowing us to collectively focus on the lynchguard. Normally that would have been a sound plan, but we neglected the factor of any potential threats coming from behind. A “spyder” unit appeared from the power room, along with several swarms of hostile scarabs, effectively flanking us. I was immediately swarmed, and it was all I could do to run out of the cloud and corner myself.

I only barely managed to recover when the swarms managed to overtake the entire rest of our backline. Yaro, Vinu, and Tibbers were completely covered by the creatures, keeping them momentarily out of the fight. With no real options to deal with the swarms myself and the lynchguard far too close for comfort, I chose a very risky gambit. I tried to repeat my stasis protocol on the lynchguard, holding them in place. It almost didn’t work, but a bit of on the spot rewriting of its defence mechanisms forced the protocol into effect, allowing me to reposition and support the rest of my allies.

With the lynchguard temporarily immobilised, Meved returned his attention to the back of the room and unleashed his canon back at the lynchguard as well as the scarab swarms. Moments later Yaro recovered enough to do the same with his disintegrator. The combined blasts cleared out the swarms and forced the spyder to retreat. That gave us the opportunity we needed to focus all of our attacks on the lynchguard.

Naturally, the lynchguard didn’t go down without a fight. It was able to break its stasis and landed a decent strike on me, but its attempt to split its attention between us left it vulnerable to Meved’s claws. The spyder reappeared at that moment to revive the lynchguard, but another volley took them down again, and Yaro’s blade ensured that the spyder would not have another chance to interfere. [Editor’s Note: Again, when did he become such a capable swordsman?]

The remaining immortals stayed in the back throughout this situation, still attempting to break Meved’s necrodermic carapace with their heavy weapons. At some point when I wasn’t looking, Vinu went after one of them, which is likely why it wasn’t causing us any real trouble. The other almost managed to land a critical strike on our bear, but I recognised the targeting sequence from when we had first opened the doors to this room and applied the same interference. My active scrambling may be a significant drain on resources, but the value it brings in denying enemy capabilities makes it more than worth the cost.

Needless to say, as soon as we were done with the final immortals, it was time for another much needed rest. That being said, Aserak was still a threat. The fights we’d had so far considerably drained my spells and energy. I was uncertain if I’d have enough remaining in me to handle them and get out of there…

Player's Notes: Edit Code really came in clutch this session. First, to stop a crit from one of the immortals getting an ambush hit on Meved, then to force the lynchguard to reroll his save against Hold Person, and then finally to stop ANOTHER crit from THE SAME immortal. I may not be the damage dealer of the party, but boy am I doing work as the damage preventer hahaha.

With that, I'm once again up to date. We haven't had a session in the last few weeks. I'm down to 3 Resolve, 2 3rd level spells, and 4 1st level spells (my 2nd levels are out). I really hope that'll be enough for Aserak and whatever else is left in here...


25/01/14 - 43 - Bug Report
Thirday, 6th Rova, 322 AG, Unknown Necrobot Facility

Robotically-engineered terminals are naturally unintuitive for the organically-inclined. This is hardly a new revelation, as android computing logic has been extensively studied. However, necrobots have a particularly alien form of thinking that outdoes any of the eccentricities one might find in the Pact Worlds, even among Androids. Despite my familiarity with obscure techno-cultural interfaces, necrobot routines operate on such fundamentally different logic that standard algorithms can only scratch the surface of their computational systems.

It is fortunate then that Tibbers’ piloting wetware implants are far from standard. For whatever reason, his cerebral implant code, which my former professors would have surely evaluated as inelegant at best, adapts remarkably well to necrobot interfaces. We saw this with the piloting console on the pyramid vessel, and again with the command console in the necrobot facility. Tibber’s implants make a better interpreter than my specialised software. Still, I could not explain why that is. Maybe it’s simply that good pilots also make good vehicles. Then again, I would not dare test that hypothesis with Vinu…

In any case, the combined efforts of Tibbers and I allowed us to crack the command console. From what I could decipher, the terminal was one piece of a much larger network, the main terminal for which was located three floors above. That alone suggested the existence of stairs or an elevator in the facility. After cross-referencing with the map we generated from our drone work, there is only one doorway we didn’t check, leaving us with the likely location. The fact that there are at least three more floors in this facility that we know nothing about is concerning, but not something we can address at the moment. We will simply have to do our best to be prepared for any surprises the necrobots might have in store, which is not exactly a new situation for us.

As for the information we could gather, I was able to pull a massive database of necrobot soldiers. I could not say if it was every necrobot in existence, every necrobot in the Khalfani Dynasty, or just every necrobot in this region, but regardless, the actual count was staggering. However, only a very small portion of them seemed to be active. The vast majority of the entries were listed as dormant. Perhaps the necrobots only keep a small portion of their population active at a time for energy conservation, or there is some other factor keeping them in check. Whatever the case may be, it means the threat they pose, at least for now, is much smaller than it could be. In a sense that’s a relief, but without any knowledge as to why so many necrobots are dormant, it’s a small comfort. For all we know, the entire necrobot population could awaken and attack at any moment. Given the numbers I saw and what we already know about necrobot combat capabilities, there is no way the Pact Worlds would stand a chance against such an onslaught.

Besides the count, I was also able to determine a few other useful details. I finally learned the official necrobot designations for several of the unit types we’d encountered thus far. I’ve retroactively updated my records to use these designations, which should help for future combat and research records. Would that the terminal had more cultural information on each unit type, but extracting any information was already difficult, and even if I could retrieve that data, actually parsing it would have taken time we didn’t have, so my subsequent queries were more targeted.

The highest ranking unit on the floor we were located on was named “Aserak the Obsidian Shard”. Tibbers offered up a less flattering variation of the name that I will not repeat here, but that evoked thoughts of an unclean posterior. Assuming this individual was located in the crypt that was being watched over by two lynchguards and two “immortals”, I dread to think of the type of power Aserak might wield. If necrobot hierarchy is indeed defined by combat prowess as it seems to be, then perhaps our posteriors ought to be the unclean ones…

Next I inquired about the location of the “tomb sentinel”, which is the designation used for the giant robotic centipede we spotted with the scarab drone. It was confirmed as being in the room directly north of us, where it was when we first scouted. We collectively decided that it would be best to fight it before progressing further into the facility, lest it ambush us in an inopportune time.

Before any scholars reading this in some far future question if I had abandoned my attempts at seeking peace by this point, know that I did attempt to see if the necrobots had any record of first contact protocols or diplomatic procedures. If such protocols exist, they were not documented in the terminal.

My last action before disconnecting was to do my best to scrub our digital footprint from the system. Some of my questions seemed to be triggering scrutiny from the system, and while I do not know for certain if the necrobots could or would trace our hack back to Tibbers’ implants, it seemed wise to mitigate that risk nonetheless. I somewhat regret mentioning that to Tibbers, as he spent the next hour or so expressing fears about the necrobots “hacking and melting his brain”.

Our next steps would be to defeat the tomb sentinel, then push forward towards the location where we believed Aserak to be. A simple plan, but focusing on what’s right in front of us can be a great way to channel our motivation. The rest just comes down to not dying horribly, but that’s been our ongoing mission for the last several months anyways.

Player's Notes: I initially held off on this one since we ended abruptly in the first round of our fight with the centipede, but with the way the next session went it made more sense to just split that off and have this entry just be about the computer.

Not a whole lot to say for this one really. Gotta go catch up on the other entries.


24/11/22 - Session 80 - Report From High Priest Garestic
Oathday, 31st Kuthona, Qatada Nessudidia, Westcrown, Longmarch

To Her Infernal Majestrix, Queen Abrogail II of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune,

Your Majesty, I am pleased to report that the ongoing project to retake control of Westcrown is progressing smoothly. The agents you've sent have continued to demonstrate excellent skill in systematically demolishing key pillars of the Reclamation’s infrastructure. At our current velocity, I anticipate Westcrown’s complete submission within a month's time.

To corroborate the account of the situation with Ambassador Kyniar, I can confirm that Paraduke Kennari and Archbishop Oscellus were successful in persuading the Taldan ambassador to comply with the relocation request without the need of any magical interference nor problematic methods. Classic Chelaxian diplomatic insinuation was sufficient to persuade him to go along willingly.

The Fey Court’s plot against Ambassador Kyniar was very helpful in the discussions. I applaud your intelligence network for their shrewd work. Naturally, there is no tangible reason for the ambassador to suspect that we had any involvement in the Court’s actions against him, though from what I know of Vors, he may come to believe it was our doing regardless. If he does, rest assured that there is no proof with which to make such an accusation credible. Similarly, I do not believe the agents suspect any such conspiracy exists either, or if they do they are discreet enough for it to not be an issue.

The protection provided by the agents was satisfactory. They were effectively able to repel the ankou without any harm coming to the ambassador. One bodyguard suffered injuries, but nothing that wouldn't be expected in the line of duty, and all clearly perpetrated by the fey assassin.

Special mention is merited for Paraduke Temoni. His magical protections and overt selfless acts were instrumental in preventing any harm to the ambassador while demonstrating the sincerity of House Thrune’s protection. His political and arcane acumen are excellent, and his devotion to you rivals, if not eclipses, that which he had for your great-grandmother. I understand that your Majesty holds the Paraduke in high regard, so I wish to express my gratitude for sending him on this venture. During his escort of the ambassador, I understand he took the opportunity to report to you personally and offered his own assessments. I pray to Lord Asmodeus that his opinions on me were similarly favourable.

With regards to the kobolds in service of the green dragon Lady Arcatraz, the one known as Kezax did an exceptional job not only in permanently eliminating the ankou, but also in cleaning the suite after the job was done. There was hardly any work left for my own subordinates. However, we observed that after the incident, he brought back a component of the shadow creature. Lady Arcatraz made use of our ritual circle to bind these properties to him. I was not able to take full stock of the effects, as the dragon is not fully forthcoming with her knowledge, and Kezax is exceptionally hard to perceive, but from what I was able to gather, I believe the kobold to now be capable of limited magical power. I'll continue to take stock and provide a summary as I learn more, though it stands to reason that his already considerable assassination skills have been made even more potent. Nevertheless, neither he nor his master have given any indication of enmity against your Majesty at this time.

On the matter of Archbishop Oscellus, following his discussion with you he came to me with a question regarding spiritual matters. In essence, he wished to know whether Hell’s favour is tilted towards House Thrune or the Asmodaean ecclesiarchy.

My answer to him was the same one I once gave to your Majesty: Hell will stand to gain regardless of the victor. The mandate of Hell is given to the mortals who have the drive and guile to claim it, so it is in one’s best interest to use these traits to prove their continued worth to Lord Asmodeus. Those who succeed will have his favour so long as they do so, but those who fail irrevocably will only have value as fuel for his engines, regardless of their intents, ambitions, or faithfulness.

Dexsius was unsatisfied with this response alone, as it did not give him a clear answer, so I continued the exercise by guiding him to assess the two options in as objective a measure as possible. He naturally came to the same conclusion as I did, and sees continued loyalty to House Thrune as the best avenue for personal accomplishment. In my estimation, his loyalty is secure for the time being.

You requested my opinion on Dexsius Oscellus’s suitability for your goals. Your Majesty, he is a blunt instrument of pure Infernal force. He has great talent and acumen that rivals many High Priests, particularly in his mastery of Hell’s gifts, but these talents are more innate than they are the product of trained devotion. His grasp on the political nature of the faith is his weakness, especially considering the immense potential he has. This is why he has not risen the ranks of the church until now, despite his extensive tenure. If he were to wield his skills with more tact, I believe he could easily become one of Hell’s most powerful servants on the mortal plane. However, I believe this same weakness is a strength for House Thrune. So long as Dexsius is convinced of the truth that service to You is service to Lord Asmodeus, then his power is yours to wield as you see fit. You need only ensure that no other force lead him astray, which would be a difficult proposition, given his ironclad will.

With this in mind, I am confident in my endorsement for his candidacy as your next High Priest in Westcrown. With my supervision, I believe he can be a fitting bulwark against any opposing ambitions, while securing your continued relationship with Lord Asmodeus.

On the subject of endorsements, there remains the matter of the new Archbaron Fex. With all due respect your Majesty, the reports of his mental state were severely understated. The man’s mind is so far gone that I hesitate to call him cognisant. The influence of the deimavigga Vipostix is so thorough that it would be more apt to call him a puppet. What I found most impressive while speaking to Dominus is his ability to rationalise any situation to fit his twisted perspective, even without his master’s intervention. As a servant of Lord Asmodeus, I am incredibly impressed with such an effective and obedient agent, and would counsel that you make full use of Vipostix’s talents if you are able. As a mortal servant of House Thrune however, I must advise caution. Vipostix is a manipulator of Hell’s highest order, and his interests in this conflict go beyond Hell’s contract with House Thrune.

Vipostix’s primary objective appears to be to hunt for Iomedaean artifacts. The acquisition of Heart’s Edge is among his top priorities, but from conversations with Dominus, I’ve come to believe that he also has an interest in acquiring Alexeara Cansellarion herself, given her supposed direct connection to Iomedae. My view is that Vipostix takes personal offence at the fact that Iomedae is using a similar form of influence to what he has done with Dominus, and wishes to pervert it to his own ends.

Given our aligned objectives, I believe it would be in your Majesty’s best interest to negotiate a contract using these assets to secure Vipostix’ ongoing alliance after the rebellion is concluded. This should allow you to keep Archbaron Fex as a useful pawn for your projects. I fear that without an established arrangement, Vipostix will have no reason to keep Dominus explicitly in Cheliax’s service once Heart’s Edge and Alexeara Cansellarion are secured. Without that restriction, the risk of collateral damage from his continued existence could prove problematic, to say the least.

This concludes my report, your Majesty. I will continue to observe and report as per your wishes.

Faithfully yours,
High Priest Jarvaxus Garestic

GM's Notes: Since the mission was relatively simple and more time for this session was spent on roleplay, I opted to shake things up a bit and offer a summary from another character's perspective. When we ended the session, the party expressed quite a bit of fondness for Jarvaxus, which I was very happy to hear.

I've intentionally played the High Priest as much more forthcoming and straightforward with the party, which is kind of a breath of fresh air for them. He also expressed that he "enjoys the challenge" of Westcrown and considers his work there to be "true ambition" compared to brown nosing in Egorian. It aligns him philosophically with the party, who prefer carving out their own power rather than politicking. He's also acutely aware of the fact that the party is far more powerful than him at this point, so I toned down his imperious aspect mentioned in the book and made him more down to earth and friendly (perhaps too friendly for an Asmodaean, but at the same time that's what makes him so good at it).

The whole thing about Hell's mandate came from Dexsius having a conversation with the Queen where she admired his new trophy (the reliquary of Aveshiel's ashes) then questioned him to judge his worthiness as a High Priest candidate (in case you missed or forgot it from the earlier entries, in this version Abrogail II is using Westcrown as her insurance plan in case Aspexia Rugatonn or someone else tries to backstab her).

That discussion led to Dexsius trying to figure out whether he should be working towards going up the ranks of the clergy, or taking the "exile" job in Westcrown. Dex's player felt my "mandate of heaven" explanation of "Hell doesn't care, just make sure whatever side you pick wins" wouldn't satisfy Dexsius, so that led to Jarvaxus having kind of a mentorly chat where they broke down the pros and cons of each side until Dex decided Thrune was the way to go. I wasn't explicitly trying to manipulate him to that conclusion, but writing the journal out to imply Jarvaxus kinda did felt very fitting for him.

Anyway, that just leaves the two session-long combat with Silvereye as my last journal to be up to speed. That said, I might combine the next session into it since I left it at the very tail end of combat, so I don't have the aftermath yet. Then again, I could turn that into its own 3rd person entry like I do with the bookend journal entries... I'm still undecided.


24/11/08 - Session 79 - Enough to Make Your Skin Crawl
Toilday, 29th Kuthona, Qatada Nessudidia, Westcrown, Longmarch

As I mentioned in my last tale, the cleric in Our service sent some of the more skilled members of his delegation to Rego Cader on a quest to find some allies. Technically, that is sufficient context to proceed with the story, but that would be sloppy on my part. Your uneducated mind has no reason to recognise the implications of such a statement. Would you, ill-informed as you certainly are, have any reason to know what Rego Cader is or why one might go there in search of potential allies to our mission? Of course not, dear reader. Fortunately for you, I am nothing if not thorough, and I take pride in instructing those in need of education, as you’ve no doubt come to learn by now. Rest easy, as I shall simplify all these mortal entanglements for you.

Rego Cader is a ruined area in the northern end of Westcrown. It is a hive of scum and villainy, mostly of the distasteful sort. It is separated from the marginally more respectable Rego Crua by a rather large wall, with only the heavily fortified Obrigan Gate functioning as a connection between the two. Well, that is if we exclude the innumerous ways one might get around a perfectly mundane high wall, but it is nevertheless sufficient for the feeble mortals and creatures that inhabit that field of refuse.

Prior to the invasion, the guard faction known as the rundottari took on the responsibility of patrolling the region, but with the Glorious Reclamation at the helm, they’ve reduced that patrol to merely holding the wall and gate. This allowed the riff raff of Cader to fester and form into cabals, or at least the nearest thing their puny minds could approximate to structured organisations. Still, the evolution was significant enough that there might be some value in negotiating with them, at least in a capacity as fodder against the Reclamation…

There is some merit to using such scum for our gain. After all, the Iomedaeans could hardly call themselves orderly if they permitted bandits and monsters to run free, and the more distracted they are, the more freely we can act against them. Ultimately, it is not too dissimilar to how the faceless stalkers were used in Kantaria.

This was the premise the High Priest of Westcrown and the Hellknight Paralictor brought to our agents, and the reason for Dexsius sending his underlings into the rego.

But as one might expect, the minions of minions are rarely so impressive, and these three sub-agents found themselves prey to one of the more able groups within Cader, that being the vampire harem of one “Skinless Sark”.

Do you know of ecorches? I do not refer to the artistic rendition of a skinless humanoid, but rather the creatures that evoke their namesake. Quite nasty things, those giants of flesh and muscle. I’ve made a few of my own over the years, mostly out of boredom, though they can be quite useful for infiltration missions. Simply provide them with a skin, and they can wear it with surprising ease. I confess, I take quite a bit of pleasure in observing the horror in a mortal’s eyes when they witness a massive undead abomination burst out from what they believed to be their comrade or precious mentor. That particular flavour of shock and horror adds a very special spice to their souls.

As you might have surmised by that tangent, Sark was just such a creature, though not one of mine. As for the vampires, I believe they were once the toys of some forgotten actor or some such. Hardly anything worthy of note, save perhaps if one is an aficionado of the Wiscrani theatre scene.

In any case, with the context out of the way, we can resume the tale. Dear reader, I do hope you appreciate the effort I put to enrich these narratives for you. Many in Hell would be honoured to receive a fraction of the attention I generously offer you. I heed you not forget that.

Now, where was I? Right, the sub-minions in the clutches of Sark’s vampiric harem. Trapped as they were, they did still manage to accomplish their task, which was to relay a request to parlay. Sark and his wenches, though undead, were not mindless. They knew the chance to speak to the enemies of the crusaders was one they could not ignore. So, an invitation (though some might call it a ransom) was delivered to Dexsius by way of a scroll of sending. The invitation was immediately accepted.

Our agents were told of Sark’s reputation as a major player in Rego Cader, and subsequently had little trouble making it to the designated meeting place. Naturally with their lizard’s skills, they knew what they would be getting into well in advance, but nevertheless they chose a more diplomatic approach. The negotiation was as simple as one might expect when a trained priest of Asmodeus negotiates with a petty thug with a rotted brain. Sark may be shrewd for his kind, but that only makes him marginally more clever than the average Iomedaean knight. It is much akin to witnessing a trained duelist sparring with an infant.

Much as I would love to disclose the full contract here, it would be poor form of me to publicly expose the exact details of a barrister’s work without formal solicitation. Instead, I shall summarise the broad details of the contract for you: Sark would be granted occasional access to Rego Crua in exchange for rendering services to House Thrune and its representatives (most likely this would come in the form of designated feed targets, but other forms of service were not excluded). Additionally, Sark would return Dexsius’ three valuable underlings for no less than 20 live prey, as well as at least one lieutenant from the Obrigan Gate for Sark’s personal use as a new skin suit.

In order to seal the agreement, our agents needed control of the Obrigan Gate. The ensuing massacre was predictable. A squad of mundane guardsmen and a few lesser holy knights could hardly pose a threat to our chosen Infernal servitors. One earth elemental, various evocations, a few well placed bolts, and an abnormally large swarm of hornets later, and the rundottari were made to provide a sizeable portion of the contract’s prey requirement. Meanwhile, devils and agents loyal to House Thrune would take over operation of the gate. With the loss of Aveshiel, there was nothing the Reclamation’s few remaining patrols could do in response, save abandon the district. The butchers and meat peddlers of Rego Crua would need rely on the benevolence of their returned masters if they did not wish to become meat themselves. A simple arrangement to secure their compliance, indeed.

It remains to be seen for just how long Dexsius intends on keeping his agreement with Sark in place. The undead did not think to include any clause protecting themselves from later retribution, should our agents or House Thrune deem them past their usefulness, but such a clause could have easily been navigated if it was. Such is the folly of negotiating with Hell’s favoured.

That being said, the priest had no qualms with the notion of supplementing the prey quota with his own lesser followers, a surprisingly generous stance towards the ecorche all things considered. Perhaps our tiefling cleric sees special value in keeping Sark satisfied? Could it be part of some grander long term machinations on his part? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps Dexsius truly sees such little worth in the masses of his congregation that their sacrifice are worth it to save him some administrative effort.

Naturally, it would not be difficult for me to expose the reality, but I would not wish to rid you of the privilege of speculating upon it yourself. Stories are always better with a little bit of mystery, after all.

No need to thank me. Simply think of it as another favour on my part for your enjoyment. As you should know by now, we devils are always happy to grant favours…

Player's Notes: Another entry down, and two more left before I'm caught up!

I genuinely wasn't sure how the negotiation with Sark was going to play out. I beefed him and his vampires up, equipping the latter with some spells to make them able to pose at least a bit of a threat if push came to shove. I could have seen an outcome where Dexsius didn't tolerate the idea of his agents being used as snacks, and killed the vampires for the audacity of doing so. I also could have seen him accepting Sark's initial offer and leaving them to him, since they had allowed themselves to get captured.

Instead, he (with Temoni's help) simply made use of his beastly diplomacy skill to convince Sark that quantity would be preferable to quality. It worked out for me either way, and helped give Dex a bit of a character moment.

The subsequent Obrigan Gate fight was stretched out by the sheer volume of soldiers I added, but it didn't stop it from being a slaughter. Given that I was going to be making a lot of the subsequent fights much tougher, I figured I'd keep this one as more of a beatdown. It made for some good opportunities for the party to get their villain vibes out, which is always fun.


24/08/23, 24/09/13, & 24/10/18 - Session 76, 77, & 78 - Order of Operations
Moonday, 28th Kuthona, Qatada Nessudidia, Westcrown, Longmarch

Yes yes, I know it’s been a while since I updated this little record. I promise you, it was not on account of any lack of drive on my part. Quite simply put, I was otherwise occupied, and there was fairly little that transpired here that would be worthy of committing to the written word. Despite how my dear puppet so often makes it out to be, not every moment of Our grand designs are particularly glamorous, nor do they all make for harrowing tales or opportunities to provide insight. Nevertheless, I would not wish to leave you, dear reader, with nothing. Fortunately, enough material has now accumulated to be worth my time, and by extension, yours.

One of the boons that comes with completing the Pentagram Ritual is the ability to use it as a focus point for the Inferno Gates. Given that our agents had already secured one such gate, the realignment was quite simple. Now, there is a direct passage from Malebolge to Westcrown, meaning we can accumulate a suitable legion to bring down upon the upstart Iomedaeans. Much of the week was dedicated to this purpose. Now, I cannot say that we are sending our best. After all, this is a mortal affair, and thus needs only minimal investment on our part. Nevertheless, it will be enough to fulfil our end of the bargain. One interesting detail I’ve heard is that among the forces there are signs of some of green draconic influence. No doubt Gartheris’ prolonged proximity to the gate had something to do with it. Not that We mind. If anything, I suspect Lord Geryon finds it amusing.

Visperthul grumbled somewhat at his relocation, but in time he came around to appreciating the importance of this new assignment. The appropriation of Westcrown is no small achievement, and as such its bridge to Hell merits at least some measure of competent oversight. Well, competent might be a strong word. For an Ayngavhaul of his station to allow someone like the elder Fex to uncover his true name is a significant failure. However, it is a failure that serves me well. It is by my underling’s hand that Visperthul retains some measure of freedom, a debt I will all too gladly collect should I ever have need of it.

Now then, back to the triteness of mortal matters. As our agents have surmised, the Glorious Reclamation’s power structure is ostensibly solid on the surface, but is actually a very fragile house of cards. The bulk of Iomedae’s crusaders are putting all of their effort into maintaining a secure central perimeter around the Korradath. It should come as no surprise that the Inheritor’s vermin would scurry back into her former master’s seat of Imperial power. These simple creatures live in the past, yearning for a lost glory they only believe they once had. In doing so however, they’ve entrusted the care of the rest of the city to but a few key influencers.

Conquest is a simple thing when the enemy misplaces so much trust in their emissaries. Westcrown is in a raw state, easy to sway one way or the other with the right pressure. All it takes is to knock over a few cards, and the underlying support that the Reclamation relies upon will fall apart.

The first, and perhaps most significant of these cards was Aveshiel the Swift. Over the years in my role as the Arch Adjudicator of Celestial Acquisitions, I’ve often found myself at odds with this particular planetar. Iomedae seems to enjoy sending this general to time sensitive situations, which is a descriptor that applies to most instances where I have sought to appropriate heavenly relics. Too often, Aveshiel has swooped in at a most inopportune moment to attempt to deny me my prize.

To date, the most problematic aspect of this planetar is that they are blessed with divine speed. They’ve never sought to confront me nor my minions directly. Instead, they seize that which I covet and immediately abscond beyond Our reach. In Westcrown however, their role is somewhat different. They’ve been tasked with eradicating organisations of lesser mortals and intercept their logistics. The lesser mortals of the Infernal clergy and the Hellknights are too feeble to face an angelic general, so Aveshiel functions as a sort of catch-all one-angel patrol force. A suitable role, all things considered. Something akin to an angelic janitor.

What a shame for them that this also means they would have nowhere to run, lest they abandon their post. It is a rare opportunity, to force my pest into a confrontation from which they cannot flee.

Aveshiel the Swift, swift though they may be, is far from strong enough to contest our agents. Their speed cannot pierce the armour of a high tier Infernal battle cleric. Nor can speed account for that which is undetected, such as the bolt of a particularly subtle kobold assassin. A bolt, might I add, suffused with the power to disrupt angelic properties.

Speed is a useful blessing, but it is, in essence, a multiplier. It relies on a strong base to offer any real benefit. No amount of speed can compensate for impotence. And there are few things as impotent as an angel stripped of their divine connection.

Aveshiel’s demise and its consequences were indeed swift, so their title remained consistent even in death, at least.

The battle transpired in a public space, where many onlookers were able to confirm with their own eyes what had happened. The Wiscrani are an opportunistic sort, shrewd and unprincipled enough to accept whatever status quo befalls them. Seeing one of the Reclamation’s strongest allies fall so resoundingly was a clear message. The streets were no longer the uncontested territory of Heaven’s knights. Rebels could no longer rely on their angelic protection. Loyalists could resume their minor operations with impunity. The citizens of Westcrown would quickly learn to adjust their behaviour.

As for our agents, they chose an interesting trophy. Dexsius’ decision to construct a reliquary from Aveshiel’s fleeting ashes was amusing to say the least. For a mortal to bear the remains of an angel in such a prominent vessel is a mark of great arrogance which I for one applaud. Naturally, it will paint a target upon him for his enemies and rivals in the clergy alike, but Mephistopheles’ pet projects never seem to be too fond of subtlety in their ambitions. When all is said and done, I look forward to adding the trinket to my personal collection, but it shall do well enough in his hands in the meantime.

Speaking of the Hell-touched cleric, he had sent out some of his minions into the northern district of Rego Cader in search of some allies some time prior. The next chronicle in this project of ours will surely have something to do with the outcome of that excursion…

GM's Notes: I am very much behind on these journals now. For reference, we did session 82 this past Friday. Let's just say the tail end of this year has been keeping me very busy, and with the frequent delays I kind of lost my routine of writing these entries out regularly. I've got a bit of a break for the holidays, so I'm hoping I'll manage to catch up before the next session rolls around in January.

For anyone curious, I'm making an effort to buff pretty much every encounter from this point out to make up for the fact that the party is absolutely stacked. For Aveshiel, that came in the form of giving them the Mythic Agile template. In the end though, it wasn't all that effective. Being a cleric with absurd amounts of wealth at his disposal means that Dexsius' AC is simply too high for Aveshiel to make a dent, and Kezax's raw stealth is so strong that Aveshiel only beat it once very briefly. The two arcanists didn't give Aveshiel nearly as much of a reason to draw aggro, though I know they could have easily held their own as well.

Greater dispel magic on Dexsius and dismissal on Othiel were effective at giving the party a bit of a scare, but Dexsius had so many buffs that Aveshiel still couldn't reliably get past that crazy AC (at least not enough to surpass the cleric's healing abilities), and Othiel was brought back in the same round as he was dismissed by way of a scroll of Wish. Archie and Temoni basically spectated as a flex, with a few spells tossed in for good measure. By the time Kezax landed his Sever Alignment shot, Aveshiel was already in an absolutely no-win scenario.

I don't mind at all though. These are capable players using their high level characters to their fullest, so it's only natural they be so effective. What this helped me see is just what sort of strengths and weaknesses I'd be dealing with for the few future fights that were meant to be somewhat threatening. Short answer: lots and lots of saves in a short time span, preferably Reflex or Fort. I'd get to test that out a few sessions later with the Dorjanala, but I have more journals to get done before I talk about how that went...


24/12/10 - 42 - Into the Breach
Thirday, 6th Rova, 322 AG, Unknown Necrobot Facility

As a researcher with a deep personal interest in anthropology, it should stand to reason that the opportunity to be a pioneer visiting a previously unknown species’ territory would be an incredible opportunity. I believe I’ve pointed this fact out on a few previous occasions. I also believe that in each of those instances, I immediately followed that statement with the assertion that with the necrobots, it is far less exciting than it is terrifying.

There is always a risk of cultural misunderstandings on first contact, but these can usually be resolved through careful diplomacy. For that to work however, both parties must at least have a desire for peace. There have been a few instances where first context was met with an impasse, and this is one such case. The necrobots, even those that have the means to communicate, have expressed nothing but contempt and hostility for us.

With that in mind, I don’t expect them to be the most gracious of hosts.

Really, the thing that is most striking about all of this to me is that we are the excursionary force exploring a base belonging to obviously hostile aliens, rather than sending some sort of elite military squadron. I’ll acknowledge that at this stage, we are perhaps the people most familiar with fighting necrobots, but that seems like a dubious honour. It is certainly not something I would be eager to put on my hypothetical wall of accolades.

Still, being the ones best positioned to make the trip, and with the shrinking window to act after our spy drone was eliminated, we decided we’d jump into the fire once more. I anticipated something like this might happen, so I had preemptively hooked up our vitals and audio-video feeds to the Everdawn’s database so that our entire mission would be recorded. I also equipped all of us with panic buttons so that we could alert Soryn and Rasiel if we needed support. In the meantime however, they were effectively left on our side of the portal as the last line of defence, should the necrobots attempt to use it against us.

The portal thankfully had no obviously adverse effects. At least none that I could detect in the short term. I ran some quick diagnostics beforehand to ensure that the portal wasn’t only keyed to necrobot signatures and wouldn’t blast us with lethal amounts of radiation on contact, but my analysis was hardly thorough enough for me to actually be confident in the portal’s safety. I’d have to do a full medical exam on everyone once we returned, but at least I didn’t detect any anomalies in the moment, which meant we could proceed to any number of the other highly dangerous aspects of the facility.

The portal room was connected to the winding main hallway, with one side passage to the south. We opted to take this southern route, which led to a four way corridor. The door, along with every other door we found in the facility, functioned off of a unique form of detection that more closely resembled magic than pure technology. This made it very difficult to decipher even with our collective technical expertise. Fortunately, Yaro’s powerful spiritual attunement made it relatively easy for him to seize and control the mechanism.

We already knew from our scouting that the eastern door was the command console room, and the room to the south was one of the dormant necrobot chambers. Meved made the call to investigate the room on the left, so as to remove any unknown variables. In there, we found what could best be described as a substation for the facility’s power. It had some similarities to the Dolmen Stone device from the pyramid ship, but seemed to be drawing its energy from another portion of the facility rather than a stone. It was likely the generator to the north that we saw during our scouting run.

While there was nothing we could do to subtly sabotage the engine, we observed that a sufficiently large explosive payload might be enough to detonate it. Based on my chemical composition readings, doing so would produce an explosion that would rival a nuclear warhead. I suppose if nothing else, it could be a last resort to eliminate this structure if things go especially badly, though on principle I dislike the idea of such an indiscriminate attack.

We continued our investigation to the south, checking on the room with the dormant necrobots. Fearing that we might encounter a guard bot that would activate some sort of wakeup protocol, I sent out an Unseen Servant to scout ahead and inform us if there were any active necrobots in the room ahead. The thought of using that spell for such a purpose only came to me in the moment, but it proved very useful as a simple form of scouting.

The dormant necrobots were indeed still dormant and lacking in any guards. I suppose they really never expected any enemy force to get this far. The tactically sound thing to do might have been to eliminate all of them in that moment, though that seemed both unethical and risky, as there was no telling what might activate the remaining soldiers. In such a small room, it surely would have been quite a mess. Instead, Meved and Yaro sabotaged the doors exiting the room, buying us some time should reinforcements ever be called after us.

That only left the eastern exit of the junction, and the one we knew to have active necrobots patrolling. When we lost our drone, one of the lynchguards was still in there, operating the command console. There was no guarantee that it had returned to its original post in the time we had geared up. That was besides the other soldiers and swarms we saw in that room as well. When I sent my Servant spell through, it recognised three bipedal necrobots as well as the presence of swarms, which confirmed my fears. Still, sooner or later we would have to face the necrobots in this facility, so we pushed in.

The more exact count in the room was one lynchguard, two guardians (similar to the ones we found protecting the Dolmen Stone), and two swarms of scarabs. Meved, Yaro, and Vinu took the vanguard while Tibbers and I remained in the backline.

Recognising the lynchguard to likely be the biggest threat, I attempted to repeat my Hold Person spell on them, but it was regrettably unsuccessful this time. Meved and Yaro held the line, first with their area of effect weapons and then in melee once the swarms closed in. Vinu meanwhile pushed in to flank one of the guardians, keeping it distracted.

Due to the positioning of the necrobots, Tibbers and I were confined to the corridor, unable to push into the larger room without coming dangerously close to the lynchguard. That was not an issue, as I was still able to provide fire support and run interference from my position. I suppose intervening in one of the lynchguard’s strikes made me worthy of its ire, as it called in a wraith to attack me immediately afterwards.

The wraith emerged from the wall next to me and struck a critical blow that immediately put Tibbers and I on the backfoot. The circumstances were almost identical to our fight by the Dolmen Stone room on the pyramid vessel, which makes me think we will have to seriously reevaluate our positioning for future encounters. Had I not been as prepared for combat as I was, such a strike would have surely killed me on the spot. [Editor’s Note: I have been spending entirely too much time in these scenarios. I should seriously be far more concerned about how close I came to death in that moment than I am.]

The lynchguard for its part focused its own attention on Yaro, though it was unclear if it was more concerned with the fact that he was a medic or the fact that he was using a reforged lynchguard blade himself. Both facts clearly perturbed the necrobots causing them to eventually knock my partner unconscious in what I understood to be a vicious brawl. Thankfully, Meved and Vinu were able to systematically take down the other threats in the room and finally the lynchguard, giving Yaro enough time to recover.

Tibbers and I were too preoccupied with the wraith to witness much of the conflict ourselves. All I saw was the lynchguard swing an impressive blow, the sound of Yaro’s whimper, followed by the lynchguard’s decapitated head rolling into sight and the sound of Yaro’s disintegrator cannon unloading on what I assumed to be its body. Perhaps it’s for the best that I did not witness the situation, as seeing Yaro injured still affects me far more than any threat to my own life.

For our part, Tibbers and I were attempting to back up into the engine room, unable to get a good route around the wraith. My intention was to lure the assassin to me and give Tibbers an opening to get past and regroup while I would use my glitch step to follow afterwards. The ended up being unnecessary, as the combination of my and Tibbers’ gunfire was eventually enough to put the wraith down, though not without serious effort.

Tibbers punctuated the encounter by firing Vivian a few more times into the corpse. I initially assumed it to be a precaution against any regeneration protocol, but after the third round it became clear that it was a form of stress relief after having to fight yet another “ghost”. My own psyche was fragile enough that I asked to borrow Vivian and took a “stress relief” shot as well. I hate to admit it, but the catharsis was palpable. It’s certainly not something I will be doing again moving forward, but I can certainly sympathise with Tibbers’ coping mechanism.

With all of us alive, but worn down a fair bit from our first encounter in this facility, we decided to take a short break. I would take the opportunity to investigate the command console. Something told me that if I could crack their code and use it, we might just uncover something truly worthwhile.

Player's Notes: There we go, back up to speed. It was a fun session filled mostly with combat. The lynchguard is definitely scarier when he's not turned off with a Hold Person, and the wraith continues to be absolutely terrifying, if for no other reason than that's twice in a row one has shown up out of a wall and hit Astrea with a high damage crit + trick attack. Gonna have to invest in something to protect myself against crits at this rate...

That, and we need to figure out a way to make sure Yaro doesn't get himself killed. The necrobots so far seem intent on focus firing the healer when they can, and with him using life link he's not exactly helping himself. We might need to invest in making him tankier somehow. Maybe take some pages from my P1e Oradin build and find some way to turn him into an absolute monolith of raw AC and health regen. Because as it stands he'll probably be in grave danger in every single encounter...


24/11/19 - 41 - Scarab on the Wall
Thirday, 6th Rova, 322 AG, The Drift

Repurposing one of the scarabs as a spy drone ended up taking us the better part of a day. Nearly the entire Everdawn participated, each of us contributing our technical expertise into fitting everything we might need into the scarab’s tiny frame. As our ship’s leading technical expert, I was tasked with the final assembly. That responsibility was nerve wracking to say the least, but everyone’s support made it much more manageable. In a sense, it served as an apt metaphor for our overall dynamic.

Our group of seemingly miscellaneous individuals have come as far as we have because we all elevate each other’s strengths and compensate for each other’s weaknesses, making the Everdawn’s crew far more than the sum of its parts. That’s as true in combat situations as it is outside of it. For instance here, where engineering was our main focus, the less technically adept Yaro supported us by seeing to our physical needs by way of providing food, coffee, and the joy that comes with witnessing your fluffy canid partner dressed in a colourful apron.

This information is perhaps superfluous, but I find myself needing to reiterate the importance of appreciating our diverse collaboration. The disparate nature of our capabilities and even mindsets may at times put us at odds with each other, but it is this factor is perhaps the greatest fundamental differentiator between us and the necrobots. It allows our galactic community to constantly evolve and challenge itself, finding new ways to subvert the limitations we encounter.

Despite all my fears regarding the necrobots, I still feel a certain confidence in this idea. They are clearly exceedingly intelligent and powerful, but over the course of studying them I cannot help but find a certain rigidness there. An intellectual rigor mortis, if you will. They all seem so confident in their established methods that they seem unable to account for something that challenges their base assumptions. Their code, once decyphered, is consistent, making it easy to reliably subvert, be that with hybrid technomancy, mysticism, acrobatic excellence, or a genetically mutated ursine with a pointy stick.

Still, for all of our progress, the necrobots still have a massive lead on us, which cannot be dismissed. The drone operation would be our first real foray into pure necrobot territory, so the stakes were high. We were unlikely to get a second chance to learn anything if we were detected, and that was to say nothing of the risk of drawing attention to us. So far, the necrobots have always had the informational advantage. This was a chance to close as much of that gap as we could before they become aware of us.

A few intensive optimisation passes and rigorous diagnostics later, we had a working spy drone. Tibbers was given piloting duty, while I processed the information feed. The others stood ready to support or respond should anything exit the portal. With all of us stationed there, the room which a few days prior housed a bunch of corpses now felt like a genuine command center.

Entry through the portal occurred without incident. The portal’s composition didn’t indicate any sort of energy readings that would suggest it to be dangerous, though I would need to do a more thorough examination before declaring it safe for use by a non-necrobot being. As for the destination, I had hoped that the GPS system we integrated into the drone might provide us with some coordinates, but the data was either garbled or too complex to interpret. It’s far from the first time necrobots have eluded standard measurement systems though, so I believe I may be able to solve that mystery with enough time.

The destination on the other side of the door, as best we could determine, seemed to be an operational post of sorts. The architecture was in line with necrobot structures we’ve seen, though clearly ancient in its construction. From a window in the building, we got a small glimpse of the outside. The area was vast and heavily constructed, equivalent to a metropolitan cityscape, though less populated than one might expect from such a scale. The best comparison I could draw would be that it was something like a cross between an Aballonian and Eoxian city, clearly designed for synthetic sensibilities, but with strong necromantic influences. As with many other elements of the necrobots, the landscape bears aesthetic similarities to the Osiriani of ancient Golarion, albeit in a more grim, dark, and cybernetic form. Perhaps there is a history between these cultures that was lost in the Gap, though I found no suggestion of such a link in my prior research.

One detail that seemed especially noteworthy was the sky. I had hoped to get some data on the atmosphere or astronomical profile of the location, but when we observed the sky, we could find no identifiable elements at all. My current hypothesis is that the segment we were viewing had a ceiling or other interference that masked the true sky. The sheer scale that implies is daunting to say the least, but I’m still hoping that to be the case, as the implications of the necrobots simply living under a starless sky is far more troubling…

My reasoning for giving the operational post its classification is derived from its personnel and scale. In my estimation, the structure seemed too small and lacking in features to be a major command centre, but still had enough presence to suggest its use as a strategic point for military action. The facility was patrolled by several active soldiers, and two rooms featured platoons of dormant ones. Granted, there is a possibility that these were non-combatants, but given what we’ve observed thus far, I cannot be entirely certain that the concept of civilians even exists in necrobot culture.

Besides the soldiers, we also found a room with a massive collection of scarab drones, seemingly relegated to a run down corner of the building. The way the necrobots leave these drones to seemingly operate on their own whims remains odd to me, but it served us well for our scouting mission. The service tunnels incorporated into necrobot architecture made it easy for our drone to traverse the facility without being too conspicuous. Well, mostly; our luck did eventually run out, but not before making a few more discoveries.

In keeping with the insectoid themes of necrobot constructs, the one entirely new creature we spotted during our exploration was an immense robotic centipede. We didn’t determine its purpose at the time, though its obvious weaponry suggested that it would be capable of combat, if not designed explicitly for it. That is an encounter I sincerely hope will never come to pass, though by this point I’m convinced it will be an inevitability…

In terms of structural features, we observed a few other interesting details. One room boasted a large power unit, similar to the one in the pyramid ship, but lacking a Dolmen Stone. Even so, the power output from this device was well beyond what we might expect from technology of that scale, though not beyond the standards I’ve come to expect from the necrobots. I’m certain my fellow TAs at the Arcanamirium would balk at the revised scales I use for necrobot-related calculations. I still have a hard time fathoming them myself…

Past the power unit, we spotted a room with cultural indications suggesting ceremonial import. At the focal point of the chamber was a sarcophagus, bearing the symbol I’ve come to believe is the coat of arms of the “Khalfani Dynasty”. We were unable to approach enough for me to get a proper reading of what the sarcophagus contained or otherwise what its purpose serves, though I would guess that it’s not something we would find desirable.

The sarcophagus was under heavy protection, and it was ultimately the two lynchguards standing at the base of the sarcophagus that noticed our drone’s unusual behaviour. One of the guards left their post to visit a command console we had also noticed earlier and operated it. The interaction was too rapid for me to fully interpret, but from what I could tell it seemed like it was searching through a database of scarab drones. It must have found the instance for our aberrant drone and deactivated it, as our feed died immediately afterwards.

It was not clear if this action meant the necrobots were aware of our infiltration, or simply believed the drone to be malfunctioning, but if nothing else our scouting mission did result in quite a bit of information being gained. We uncovered most of the facility’s layout and defences, along with what might be a couple points of interest in the forms of the sarcophagus and the command console…

Of course, a few minutes of video footage were never going to be a satisfactory amount of data. It became increasingly clear to all of us by the time the scarab was destroyed that we would need to go into the portal and investigate ourselves.

May our outcome be better than the scarab drone’s…

Player's Notes: This time a hiatus isn't to blame as much as my own life being too hectic for me to keep up with writing my journals. I'm trying to catch up this weekend.

Building the drone was a fun little bit of roleplay. In the end, this was basically just a simple scouting mission, but we enjoyed getting a bit more flavour regarding these "mysterious death robot aliens". Next session, we went into their turf. I'll relay how that's going so far shortly.


24/10/01 - 40 - A Glimpse of Death
Thirday, 6th Rova, 322 AG, The Drift

Before I begin, I must offer a preface. I did not sleep well after our excursion into the necrobot vessel. My biometric diagnostics confirmed as much. This was not exactly a surprise: intense exertion aside, the proximity of an active portal to what may be the necrobot homeworld would hardly be conducive to a restful slumber. As some historic cultural references put it, “you cannot sleep while there are enemies nearby”.

Likely as a consequence of this, I found myself being somewhat out of sorts. I even experienced the phenomenon of temporal distortion once again. If feels as though months have passed in a single day. I know that to be objectively incorrect, but I cannot reconcile reality with how I feel. As such, I cannot wholly vouch for the complete accuracy of my personal records at this time. However, note that any of the official transcriptions provided came from our real-time recording software. In the event of any discrepancies, know that the raw transcriptions should be correct, barring any tampering. I could not abide if my own cognitive impairment mischaracterised the truth.

As for what transpired, our day began with a second trip into the now effectively dormant necrobot vessel. The last room we had not yet investigated was the one in the centre of the structure. As we predicted, it was the bridge, or at least the closest necrobot equivalent. The ceremonial architecture and decor made it almost seem more like a dais or altar of some sort, complete with ritualistic-like imagery depicting what appeared to be a representation of a necrobot social or military hierarchy. I made certain to record footage of these depictions to cross-reference them with profile data we’ve already recorded. Perhaps we could use them to craft a more complete picture of the beings we’re in conflict with.

My decryption skills alone were insufficient to learn anything from the vessel’s command terminals or other interfaces. However, Tibbers used his own tech and piloting expertise to directly connect to the pilot’s chair, and with his assistance I was able to convert the data into something usable. His exosuit made the attempt viable, though it’s Tibber’s bravery and selflessness that pushed him to take action at great personal risk. Despite the concerns I’ve expressed for his psychological wellbeing after everything he went through yesterday, he performed admirably. We were fortunate to have him with us.

The information we collected was limited, but raises several very interesting and perhaps critical questions. From a ship status report, we learned that the “Eternity Gate” and “Tomb Mind” were offline, but that the “Tomb Gate” was online. We cannot be certain of the exact meaning of these terms, though it would be reasonable to assume that the Tomb Gate is the portal we found, as it was just about the only thing still functioning after we removed the Dolmen Stone. The other two components remain unknown, though if I were to offer an educated guess, I would hypothesise that the Tomb Mind refers to the vessel’s central computing systems, while the Eternity Gate refers to its primary weapons. I reiterate however that this is speculation on my part. Further study will be needed to determine just what this terminology actually means in context, besides sounding vaguely ominous.

In addition to ship status reports, we were also able to pull up coordinate information. The means by which necrobots calculate positions naturally did not conform to the Pact World standards, so we attempted to gather as many reference points to compare against. Hopefully, the encrypted coordinate data from the ship will be easier to decipher when compared directly against known locations. We know, if nothing else, that the necrobots have at least some awareness of our galactic geography, despite not residing anywhere near the Pact Worlds themselves.

Unfortunately, there was little else we could retrieve from the cockpit terminal. I would not be surprised if relevant data was automatically purged to avoid its seizure, much like how the necrobots decompose themselves to avoid capture and study. If that is indeed the case, then there may be a way to recover some of the deleted data, though I believe we are still far from being able to achieve a feat like that.

Alternatively, it could be that the necrobots do not keep secure data on their vessels. The highly advanced nature of necrobot technology would theoretically make it more efficient to maintain a hierarchical data structure where individual units are given only the most direct instructions while a centralised command system compiles data from all sources and controls tactical decision-making. This sort of system is common among collectives, but is usually limited by lag time in communication and the vulnerability of the central system to direct attacks. The necrobots could very well have overcome both of those weaknesses.

Still, all of this is just conjecture. As it stands, we simply do not have more data.

Refocusing on what we do have, our team returned to the medbay to investigate it further. Our previous visit had us pass through it only briefly to clear the ship of any lingering units. We confirmed that the necrobots within the medbay’s tanks were still inactive. We also noted a pool of necrobot epidermis at the base of the tanks (what my correspondents have taken to calling “necrodermis”, though I would not be surprised if such a term conflicted with some Eoxean copyrights). The quality of the samples is still quite excellent, so I believe we’ve effectively secured a viable collection of samples. I admit to some reservations at using injured sapients as test subjects, but under the circumstances I cannot argue with the tactical necessity of such actions.

That more or less encapsulated our second excursion. It was fairly brief and without incident, with most of our attention focused on collecting as much data as possible and translating it for our ongoing necrobot database.

We would later discuss revisiting our plan of bringing the vessel back into proximity of the Pact Worlds. Soryn’s concerns remain valid: even if we select somewhere that is relatively remote, there is a very real chance of us giving the necrobots a backdoor into Pact Worlds territory, something we simply cannot afford if the necrobots remain as hostile as they have.

This brought us back to another solution we discussed previously, that of sending a scout into the active gate before moving the vessel out of the Drift. It’s not an unreasonable idea. After all, our biggest apprehension was the risk of alerting the necrobots that their gate is compromised. However, this would likely happen sooner or later, so doing it while we remained in the comparative anonymity of the Drift would put only us in serious danger. Compared to endangering the entire system, that’s definitely the safer call.

The question that remains is what to send through. One approach would be for our team to go, just as we did into the vessel. It would likely be the single most dangerous thing any of us has ever done, but it’s not exactly like we’re strangers to putting ourselves in dangerous positions. Still, I personally find the idea somehow less appealing than our infiltration of Vanguard Station. At least there we had a fairly good idea of what we would find inside and how to deal with it. Despite all our encounters and studies, we’ve still only just scratched the surface with the necrobots by comparison, and everything we’ve seen so far suggests that we would not enjoy what we find if we go deeper.

We ultimately concluded that it would make more sense to send a drone through, to effectively act as a scouting probe. Between Tibbers’ remote piloting skills and my familiarity with adapting the quantum energies used by the necrobots, we might be able to keep the drone functional through the portal. If so, then we might be the very first members of Pact space to see the necrobot homeworld.

Under normal circumstances, such a monumental pioneering achievement would be cause for excitement, and I suppose I am excited to some degree. However, at present I find that my excitement is dwarfed by my terror.

Player's Notes: Normally I try to write my journal entries close to when the next session will happen, but as it stands the stars have not been aligning very well, so I figured I'd get this out while I had the opportunity. I'm sure we'll get back to it eventually and it'll be awesome though.


24/08/27 - 39 - Who Holds Power
Seconday, 5th Rova, 322 AG, The Drift

Though a proper conversation with the Lynchguard was unlikely, I still made an attempt to parlay. Previous attempts had been fruitless, but a part of me hoped that this individual’s willingness to introduce itself to us suggested room for discussion. Perhaps it only wanted the Dolmen Stone returned. Given the necrobots’ hostility, we would hardly acquiesce to such a demand, but it would at least show us that negotiation was a possibility.

The Lynchguard demonstrated signs of linguistic comprehension at my words, even if they were spoken in Pact World Common. I am unsure if they have language synthesisers, or if they simply know Common, but refuse to speak it. That alone raises many questions, though the Lynchguard made it abundantly clear that it would not be the one to answer them.

Rather, the Lynchguard’s response, as with all other necrobots we’ve encountered thus far, expressed no desire for a mutual exchange of information. Its exact words were “Does the thresher parley with the wheat it sows?” followed by “The awakening has come and we will retake what is ours.” No further statements were made before combat ensued.

These statements highlight a few important details that I believe we can use to significantly further our understanding of the necrobots. I’ve recorded and transcribed the exact wording in the necrobot language, so as not to leave linguists with only interpreted data. I will also include my personal speculations.

Referring to us as wheat being sown suggests the necrobots are familiar with agricultural practices deeply enough to make metaphors about it, either from their own culture, or from studying us or some other organic culture. In either case, the necrobots are not unfamiliar with organic life. I also believe the Lynchguard was fully intending to convey what it believes to be the social dynamic between necrobots and our kind. In their eyes, we are essentially a material resource, rather than sapient beings. The state of the “harvested” corpses would be consistent with classification as chattel.

Othering is a common practice, especially among imperialist cultures. It allows soldiers and citizens to readily accept terrible mistreatment of foreign individuals in perceived service to the state. It’s a practice I personally find reprehensible, but with enough precedent to see a rationale in necrobot behaviour so far. They may well consider us to be barbarians occupying space and resources they wish to conquer for themselves.

This leads to the comment about “awakening” and “retaking what is ours”. The implication is that the necrobots were previously active, went dormant, reactivated, and now seek to control what was once their domain. Is it possible that before the Gap, the necrobots were a ruling species among the Pact Worlds? It’s not entirely impossible. There is a great deal we don’t know about the Gap and what came before it. The Elorituan experiment corroborated the idea of a dormant phase.

Even so, I wonder about the lack of wide-spread archaeological and historical evidence of their presence. If the necrobots once had such influence, why have we found so little? There could be many reasons, one of which simply being that the Lynchguard’s assertions were the result of an overinflated sense of property, another common trait of imperial cultures. Nevertheless, it’s worth combing historical records once more for signs of the necrobots. The past may yet help us better understand how to deal with our current situation.

[Editor’s Note: To think I’ve already written so much… I should move on with the log.]

The Lynchguard was more easily dealt with than I originally anticipated. In an attempt to incapacitate the hostile necrobot, I made use of my immobilisation spell. My expectations of success were low, but it was remarkably effective. The rest of our team took it down while it was paralysed, and then did so again when its backup shield began to reanimate it. At that point, I used the Quantum Tether formula to prevent disintegration, again to great success.

[Editor’s Note: There is a clever comment to be made here about “reaping what you sow”. Find a way to fit that in post-editing.]

In retrospect, I hypothesise that my technomancy’s potency was bolstered by the Dolmen Stone in my possession. While I have no empirical evidence of this, my magic is rarely so reliable, and I had no reason to believe the Lynchguard had any particular weakness to it (quite the contrary, in fact). Further tests will be needed to see if the Dolmen Stone has some innate synergy with magic, technomantic or otherwise. If so, we may have stumbled upon even further potential scientific breakthroughs.

On the subject of the Stone’s effects, I also noticed an increase in my physical abilities while holding it. I was able to carry the Lynchguard’s body to the shuttle largely unaided, a feat I definitely would not have been able to accomplish under normal circumstances. Though admittedly, this could also be explained by the increased flow of adrenaline in my body.

Given our own beleaguered states and Tibber’s increasing hysteria, we decided to leave immediately rather than explore the last remaining room of the vessel (which covered the upper portion of the pyramid structure). With the intact Dolmen Stone and two largely intact necrobot bodies to bring back with us, we had already found more than enough to consider the outing a success. That being said, we agreed to return to finish the investigation later.

Once back on the Everdawn, Meved transported the necrobot chassis to the laboratory for eventual inspection. I had succumbed to exhaustion while in the shuttle, so Yaro returned me to my quarters (despite my protests). Nevertheless, we both found ourselves rushing to the laboratory soon after. While Meved was dismantling the Lynchguard, it reanimated, presumably due to its regeneration protocol. My auto-dematerialisation countermeasures may have been too effective after all.

There was a brief panic, but we were able to once again deactivate the specimen, and this time I saw to the dismantling personally. The Dolmen Stone’s effects, or adrenaline, or something else may have still been lingering within me, because despite my beleaguered and rushed state, my harrying fire had remarkably managed to be effective while not damaging a single sample within the laboratory, and the dismantling went exceedingly smoothly. A very welcome surprise, to be sure.

Less welcome was Tibbers’ obviously poor mental state. He responded to the alarm holding an improvised incendiary composed of a bottle of rectified spirit and a flaming rag [Editor’s Note: Didn’t I lock up all the medical alcohol? Follow up on this]. Seeing that the situation was already resolved, he tossed the rag on the floor (Twitch is programmed to extinguish unmonitored flames, thankfully), drank the entire bottle, and fell unconscious on the spot.

I’ve previously written about the psychological impact this mission had on Tibbers. I fear that without processing his trauma through healthy mechanisms, he may engage in increasingly self-destructive behaviour that could endanger himself and the crew. For the time being, he was placed in the medical bay for detoxification, and I’ve scheduled us to go through regular therapy sessions. Hopefully, I can help him back to being at least manageably unstable.

After a very brief respite, Vari-13 called a ship-wide meeting to debrief on the mission and our findings. A rather heated disagreement broke out over what to do with the necrobot pyramid ship. Vari’s initial suggestion was to bring it to Absalom Station for study, which Soryn and myself both strongly opposed. The risks of bringing a vessel like this, let alone one with a still-working portal to necrobot-controlled space, were far too high. Soryn nearly came to blows, but fortunately we managed to diffuse the situation.

Further discussion eventually led us to a compromise: we would tow and anchor the vessel to a remote drift anchor [Editor’s Note: If we can get in touch with Horizon’s End, the vessel in service to Weydan, they might have some good suggestions for a suitable location], and then set up a research station around it. We would also establish a series of redundant failsafes to ensure that the vessel couldn’t be used for further necrobot infiltration.

The final plan requires a great deal of funding, but Vari seemed satisfied acquiescing to proper safety protocols. It can be easy to forget that they are actually quite reasonable and logical, and they are not lacking in empathy nor respect for our respective expertises either. However, they do have an extraordinary skill for phrasing their initial statements in the most inflammatory manner possible, a trait which frequently puts them at odds with Soryn.

Such disagreements are understandable. Soryn is concerned with the safety of the Pact Worlds, while Vari is concerned with progress. For society to thrive, both of these impulses must work in collaboration with each other, and it is unwise to completely neglect one side of the balance in pursuit of the other. Vari’s pursuits and support are ultimately the reason we know as much about the necrobots as we do, and without their ancestor’s research, we might have found ourselves completely unprepared for the threat of the necrobots in the first place. Their contributions in that respect shouldn’t be understated. I just wish they phrased their thoughts a bit more diplomatically…

In any case, we have our plan of action. The coming months will likely be exceedingly busy. As for the immediate future, we will finish exploring the ship tomorrow. Tonight, Yaro and I have earned ourselves a much needed shower and rest. [Editor’s Note: I probably shouldn’t mention Yaro in this context. Revise for publication.]

Player's Notes: I don't know what dice god blessed me the night we had this session, but dang... I did not expect Hold Person to work on this mini-boss, and getting a nat20 on the Quantum Tether to counterspell the auto-disintegration, then another nat20 to haul the body to the shuttle, then ANOTHER nat20 then a nat18 to use harrying fire and then dismantle the body... I guess Astrea just really had this Lynchguard's number. I made up the justification that it was the Dolmen Stone on the spot because that made for an interesting narrative as opposed to just being super lucky that session.

Though I don't use it in the journal proper, we collectively agreed that Tibbers was drinking the Starfinder equivalent of Ryncol. Our GM is a big Mass Effect fan, and I've been replaying the games lately, so it was topical. Currently I'm 1/3rd of the way into ME3 with a Sentinel Astrea Shep, and being reminded a lot that Astrea is really not that far off from just being Liara. That might not be much of a coincidence; I think I first created Astrea as an OC not long after playing ME the first time.

For the little aside about Twitch, don't forget that his character image is WALL-E, so imagine that little guy coming over with a tiny fire extinguisher to put out the flaming rag.


24/08/13 - 38 - No Dolmen Stone Unturned
Firstday, 4th Rova, 322 AG, The Drift

Our second rest in the pyramid (or third if you count the one that was interrupted by the wraiths) gave me some time to study the spider drone’s nesting room. In there, we found two things worthy of further study.

The first of these was a pile of corpses in the northern section of the room. The dead bodies themselves were hardly a surprise, given what we knew about the Devourer cultist expedition. What was noteworthy however was the state of the bodies. A quick diagnostic check performed by Yaro and myself determined that the corpses had unusually low yields of several essential minerals. For instance, the minuscule amounts of remaining blood had only trace amounts of iron. It led us to conclude that somehow, the necrobots were harvesting the metals from these bodies. It’s a pragmatic means of recycling, albeit a very disturbing one.

I might have wondered if such resource collection was part of the necrobot’s goals, but that would be incongruous with their methods elsewhere. My best hypothesis at this time is that this particular instance of harvesting was to make up for them being adrift. Still, to have the means to extract minerals in such a way would imply that this is something they’ve done before… It’s an avenue of thought that I’d rather not pursue, despite my morbid curiosity.

The second noteworthy feature of the room was the large gateway that occupied the southwest corner. The structure seemed very similar to that of the elven aiudara (what is conventionally known in the Pact Worlds as “Elf Gates”). However, just as the aiudara have eluded our academic understanding since before the Gap, I lack the means to fully comprehend this portal. I nevertheless documented what I could from my analysis and have included them in my records for future study.

That being said, I was still able to determine some information. The nature of the energy it exuded was unmistakably that of the mysterious power used by the necrobots, and given the emission patterns of that energy it seemed likely that the other side of the portal was a fixed location containing immense amounts of it. The closest comparison I can make would be to say it was equivalent to a portal to the negative energy plane. I would hazard a guess that the destination of the portal was to whatever world or plane the necrobots are natively from.

Given that information, I advised against us entering or in any way interacting with the portal. While I would have preferred to deactivate it, I doubt that I had the tools or understanding to do so safely, and a more rudimentary dismantling seemed too risky to attempt. As such, we left it alone, and hoped that in doing so, we would not be “kicking a hornet’s nest”, as the human expression goes.

With the eastern quadrants of the vessel’s lower floor explored [Editor’s Note: Starboard hardly seems apt to use until we’ve conclusively determined the orientation of the vessel itself.], we continued along the perimeter to the north-western side.

The room we encountered next was a little different from the previous ones, in that it had glowing markings on the doors. I recognised these from our previous encounters as being the symbol that the necrobots used to represent themselves or their leadership. Further inspection confirmed them to be trapped in some way. Up until now, none of the rooms have had any security measures beyond the necrobots within to guard them, so this naturally suggested a high level of importance.

We pivoted to the smaller door in the eastern corridor for our approach, and I set up a siphoning program to divert the energy embedded in the rune harmlessly. My understanding of necrobot technology may be insufficient for their more complex mechanisms, but weapons and traps at least I’ve managed to decipher well enough. A few minutes later, we were able to open the room and discover what the necrobots thought valuable enough to keep warded off.

Even if my translation program were not active or the guardians within had not stated their warning of our trespass, the structure that occupied the sealed room was unmistakable. After all, I had overseen the engineering reports for the dismantling and reconstruction of the Enigma Core, and perhaps barring a few less than forthcoming followers of Eloritu, I was at the time (and to my knowledge still am) the foremost researcher on the so-called “Dolmen Stone”. Admittedly, that is not so much an indication of my pedigree as it is a testament to this device’s obscurity, but the fact remains the same: the device within that chamber was almost certainly the pyramid ship’s primary source of energy, something that could rival if not outclass any sort of power supply the Pact World’s foremost civilizations could muster.

Much as I would have loved to have stopped everything then and there to study this marvel, we still had the matter of its guardians. The room held two advanced soldiers and two more humanoid necrobots equipped with what seemed to be a handgun paired with an energy blade. Their slightly more ceremonial appearance correlated with common traditions of designated bodyguards for high value targets, and their equipment was clearly designed to permit them greater mobility in close quarters, which was fitting given the enclosed space. Fortunately for us, Meved was more than large enough to bottleneck the doorway, meaning they couldn’t approach us directly without either going through our ursine frontline or taking a route around. Having come to that conclusion, I suggested that Tibbers hold our flank in the northern corridor to prevent that possibility.

At first, our strategy was proving effective. For all of the necrobots’ combat prowess, Meved’s advanced mutations have made him quite resilient in the face of their aggression. This was bolstered by Vinu’s impressive ability to “dropshot” our foes through the limited sightlines of the obstructed doorway. Prior to this ordeal, I would never have expected the splits to be a tactical combat manoeuvre, but given the shot’s effectiveness, perhaps my understanding of martial tactics is simply lacking. I am a scientist after all, not a combat specialist.

That fact became painfully apparent when our advantageous configuration was violently dismantled by the appearance of another wraith-type necrobot (the same kind that ambushed Vinu in the scarab charging room). This time, I was the unfortunate recipient of a particularly vicious strike. Even with all of my gained experience, the attack winded me, and it was evident that I would likely not be able to withstand another hit from this creature.

Naturally, being in the immediate vicinity of a highly lethal ghost-like robot forced us to reevaluate our tactical positioning and target prioritisation. Meved continued to focus on holding the guardian and soldiers in the room at bay while the rest of us focused on the wraith and the other guardian, which had come from the northern door to flank us as anticipated. We were effectively surrounded, with Meved to the west, Tibbers and Vinu to the north, and Yaro and I to the south. It was a mercy that no reinforcements came from the eastern door (where the corpses and portal were located), or we would have been in an extremely dire situation.

That is not to say this situation was not dire. In fact, our positioning meant that Yaro and I, while protected by direct fire from the Dolmen Stone room by Meved, were still in the range of arcing weapons. The necrobots apparently realised this, and blasted us with their arc guns. The nature of the weapon made it incredibly dangerous in such a closed space, resulting in one charge striking each of us multiple times. Had Yaro not preemptively used his magic to shield me, it may have been enough to incapacitate me right then and there.

In retrospect, that arcing strike was probably the turning point of the fight. The damage Meved, Yaro, and I incurred spurred Yaro to use his healing magic to restore us. The necrobots are a highly intelligent and ruthlessly logical species, meaning that they immediately realised the tactical value of our combat medic. The flanking guardian and the wraith reprioritised to try to eliminate our most crucial asset as swiftly as possible.

In my previous log, I mentioned the merits of just such a strategy, but pointed out that the targeting of medical personnel goes against Pact World military conventions. Given the reaction of the necrobots, it was made abundantly clear that they have no such conventions, or at the very least did not apply them to us. There was no hesitation in their instructions, and my live translation protocol left no room for error: oppositional forces with healing magic were priority targets. I mention this so that any Pact World military forces that might come across a necrobot force in the future are made aware and are given the opportunity to revise their strategies. We cannot assume that the necrobots share our morals or have any notion of “humane” treatment of their adversaries. As of yet, I have seen no mention of the concept of “mercy” in their lexicon, and I am beginning to doubt that they have one.

Though I am trying my best to remain composed as I write this, the situation that occurred during this encounter left me shaken. Tactical importance aside, Yaro is my romantic partner and a deeply valued companion. I have already seen him face a near-death experience once before at Khefak Depot, under conditions not all that dissimilar to these. Though I had largely managed to process that trauma, the sight of Yaro so severely injured brought those memories back. Had I not taken extensive measures to prepare myself to maintain composure in exactly this sort of situation… If I had slightly fewer resources at my disposal…

Well, it would not be productive for me to dwell on such a hypothetical.

My reactions were largely the product of adrenaline and conditioning. Were it not for the recorded footage from my bodycam and the accounts of my companions, I doubt that I could have recalled what occurred next.

By the time Yaro had been wounded, Meved had killed a guardian and made some ingress into the Dolmen room, leaving a gap for us to enter from. I took the opportunity, taking position in the doorway and using a biomechanical symbiosis program to jolt Yaro’s adrenal system. It wasn’t much, but it would allow Yaro a small window with which to pull back into the room with Meved while I covered his escape. Though I was still slightly injured, Yaro’s earlier healing and protective magic would ensure that I could at least do that much, giving him some much needed time to recover. At worst, he would probably be able to save me in turn from his safer position. If I am honest with myself however, I don’t believe I was making such rationalisations in the moment. My only thought was that Yaro needed to be safe.

With Yaro in a more secure position, my next priority was ensuring that the guardian and wraith did not pursue. I targeted the guardian with a “hold” protocol which I had recently adapted into my repertoire from some older arcane formulations. The necrobot put up a heavy resistance, but I supplemented as many power enhancers as I could muster to see it through, which fortunately was just enough to make the difference. With the guardian held in place, Tibbers, whose aim had been severely lacking throughout the encounter (possibly a symptom of his recent traumatic incidents), was able to land a direct hit, and Vinu was able to finish it off. For posterity, I used my tether program to preserve the body and its weaponry.

As expected, the wraith did attempt to pursue, opting to go through me. I did my utmost to physically block its path. I believe it did manage to land another blow, but I remained standing. My own fight or flight response must have allowed me to endure despite my clear disadvantage. Thinking back on it, it’s a humbling demonstration of the power of one’s instinctive biological programming. However, that hindsight also makes me wonder why I chose to target the guardian. Couldn’t the wraith have simply passed through the adjacent wall to pursue Yaro, rendering my positioning pointless? Perhaps at the time there was a logical reasoning behind my exact actions, but my memory is too addled to recollect it.

While this entire ordeal was occurring, Meved was single handedly fighting the two remaining soldiers in the Dolmen room. Our ursine enforcer has always been a fearsome combattant, but with his ever advancing robotic mutations I’ve almost come to take for granted that he is almost unstoppable. I should emphasise “almost”, because he is by no means immortal. One of the soldiers actually did manage to land several wounding strikes on Meved despite the latter’s defences, and while it wasn’t doing much damage, it was doing some. Meved would ultimately win the battle of attrition, but not without a noticeable cost to his stamina.

Meved had managed to take out one of the two soldiers by the time I retreated from the wraith to regroup with him. Yaro had recovered a bit by then and had taken a safer position further into the room, so my rather frail shield was no longer necessary. The wraith pursued, but Meved ended that threat in a single swipe, whereas the final soldier was taken out by a single extraordinarily charged blast from Yaro’s disintegrator cannon. The battle was over.

We patched ourselves up, leaving us all looking as though we hadn’t just fought one of the most harrowing fights we’ve had yet. The exhausting psychological toll was unmistakable, however. Yaro and the rest of the group took a very well deserved rest immediately, though the adrenaline crash had not caught up to me just yet, so I used the remainder of my energy to inspect the Dolmen stone before resting as well.

Unlike the fragment we used to power the Everdawn, the stone in this Enigma Core was whole. The power output from the crystal was greater than just about any reading I’ve ever seen. Much like what Vari-8 speculated in his findings all those years ago, something like this could very well be used for immense societal benefits. That such an absurd amount of power would be put towards an engine of war worries and saddens me greatly. I still find myself wondering what drives the necrobots to acts of cruelty when they are blessed with such advanced technology. I hope to understand it someday, because I still struggle to rationalise all the suffering that has been inflicted… I have no desire to believe that our world is inherently cruel, as some do.

The necrobots might have used their energy for harm, but I reasoned that this did not need to be the case. We had taken and used a Dolmen stone shard before, so repurposing a whole one seemed a logical next step. With the help of our entire group, we were able to eject the stone. The effect was immediate: the entire ship fell to auxiliary power. If any of the necrobots didn’t know we were here, they would know now. However, any additional ship defences they might have used against us were now likely gone.

We saw the first example of this with the next room we inspected, this time in the south-west quadrant. The room contained several pod-like chambers, most containing necrobots in various states of disrepair. The displays and tech readings suggested that this was a repair station, analogous to our med-bays. The lack of power meant that any repair procedures had apparently halted, which was a very welcome blessing. While many of the necrobots were nowhere near full capacity, some were distressingly close. Had we not cut the power, it might have meant we’d be facing a few more combatants. While I still had enough resources left to handle one or two brief fights, every encounter dwindled those resources, and who could say if there would be enough if a major threat arose.

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind that it manifested itself in reality. As we returned to the southern outer corridor of this square-based structure, we were greeted by a single necrobot. Though it obviously was different from other necrobot infantry, equipped with an axe and shield and composed of far higher grade materials than the more common soldiers we’ve faced, the truly frightening thing about it was where it was coming from. The necrobot was approaching us from the same entryway we came from. At the time, we did not know what that meant for the Everdawn or its other passengers. We had not received any hails or distress signals, so we hoped it was merely attempting to block our exit. Either way, a conflict was unavoidable.

Interestingly, the shieldbearer necrobot made a declaration as it approached. I am still so thankful that my translation program was still active to capture the message it spoke. Typical threats against us aside, it introduced itself as the “lynchguard tasked with protecting the Dolmen Stone”, and announced that it served the “Khalfani Dynasty”.

Given the translation of the word “dynasty”, it seems unlikely that the Khalfani represent the entire species, though just these words alone open up many questions regarding the social structure of the necrobots, and perhaps even their whole nature as a species.

The anthropologist in me would have loved to have a conversation with this person, were they not so obviously intent on killing us all.

Player's Notes: Hoo boy, this was a long one. The session wasn't even especially long, but given the nature of the significant lore drops and dramatic events, Astrea had a lot to say. How dare these robutts try to hurt her precious good boy boyfriend!

I'm sure I could say more, but I stayed up way too late to finish writing this, so I'll cut myself short and get some rest so I'm not too dead for the next session tomorrow!


24/06/19 - 37 - Pest Control
Firstday, 4th Rova, 322 AG, The Drift

Given the harrowing events of our last encounter, we opted to take some time to rest. Fortunately for us, the necrobots didn’t seem intent on actively patrolling their ship, despite our less than subtle infiltration. Perhaps their lack of pursuit was telling. Given that their ship was adrift, it would be reasonable to assume that they are functioning off of auxiliary power. Under such circumstances, it is common both for organic and synthetic beings to limit their consumption of energy. I speculate that in the case of the necrobots, their response might simply be to bunker down save for a few select troops.

The respite gave us time to inspect the room we found ourselves in. The exact mechanisms of the obscure device that occupied the room were unknown to me, but given its dimensions and structure, I surmised that it was likely a designated charging station for the scarab-like creatures we’ve previously fought. The device seemed to be connected to various parts of the ship by way of a network of pipes, which in my estimation are the means by which scarabs are sent to different parts of the vessel to perform maintenance. It’s a logical setup which takes full advantage of their highly mobile repair drones.

Yaro corroborated my findings with a discovery of his own. His keen canine ears picked up on buzzing sounds from the room adjacent to us (“north” of us according to my relative spatial render of the vessel), sounds which I had completely missed during my fixation on the room’s device. It remains a true blessing that I have such reliable companions with me, otherwise I would surely find myself at the mercy of countless ambushes. Quite honestly, I doubt I could survive a single ambush. I am not built for combat situations, despite repeatedly finding myself in them as of late…

We took ready positions at the door and I used some magic to open them remotely. Sure enough, what greeted us on the other side was an assortment of multiple scarab swarms and another creature we had not encountered before. The simplest way to describe the massive entity would be to liken it to a giant robotic spider. The room, based on its layout, I would have guessed to be its “nest”.

Yaro and Meved took immediate action, using their large effect radius weapons to deliver as much lethality to as much of the swarms at once. That took care of most of the swarm clusters, but still left a couple, along with the spider, and two additional footsoldiers that had been deeper in the nest room.

While the larger foes focused on Meved, the remaining scarabs ignored our frontline and instead went after the rest of us. Yaro and Tibbers had the worst of it, with some of the creatures even making it into Tibbers’ skin. The ordeal was traumatising to witness, let alone actually endure, which compounded with his prior psychological scars from the earlier phasing necrobots (which I’ve decided to designate as “wraiths” for ease of documentation). Given that, his attempts to flee were understandable. I will almost certainly need to conduct routine psychological evaluations for the poor man after this mission…

We eventually took down the smaller hostiles, leaving us with just the spider. Throughout the fight, the spider managed to restore the necrobot soldiers, even from apparent death, and generated more scarabs as well. It would be reasonable to conclude that this was some sort of support drone, almost like a scarab carrier vessel.

For any military personnel that might be reviewing these records, I recommend focusing on these spider entities first, as our failure to do so likely significantly prolonged our fight and cost us in time and resources. While I recognise that the explicit targeting of medical personnel is both unethical and in breach of several conventions, I feel it relevant to point out that during my diagnostics, I detected no indications of sapience from the creature. To the best of my knowledge, the spider was a drone operating off of standard routines, not a living being. If at any point we should find evidence to the contrary, I will naturally revisit my recommendation in accordance with galactic laws of warfare and my own ethical code.

This being said, the spider’s ability to restore the necrobots did appear to have a limit. A more thorough assessment would be required, but based on the data collected, the spider did not seem able to heal the soldiers more than a few times before it showed signs of depletion. I remain at this time uncertain of exactly how its resources are managed, but recommend that anyone unfortunate enough to encounter one try to keep track. It could be vital information.

In our case, Tibbers managed to land one final blow on the spider to destroy it, but not before it released one more swarm of scarabs… Which immediately went after Tibbers. I find myself wondering if that was purely a case of the drones choosing to target the one that destroyed their carrier, or if Tibbers has some sort of innate property that makes him more attractive to them. At least this time, Yaro was able to wipe out the swarm before they could do any serious damage to anything other than Tibbers’ sense of dignity.

The fight was a harrowing ordeal to say the least, but it left us with yet another room to investigate. One that was equal parts fascinating and deeply unsettling…

Player's Notes: Both this and my Hell's Vengeance campaign are composed of most of the same people, and so both suffered from the same bout of scheduling conflicts, but we got there eventually!

This is actually the recap for a session from a couple months back (as the title indicates). I saved writing the detailed version until we knew another session was coming to help me remember the session.

I'm currently writing the log for the more recent session, though it's proving to be a bit longer given that there was a bit more to say in that one.


24/05/10, 24/05/24 & 24/08/17 - Session 73, 74, & 75 - A New Crown for the West
Moonday, 21st Kuthona, Qatada Nessudidia, Westcrown, Longmarch
Participants: Vipostix

The Qatada Nessudidia is a lovely little piece of architecture. Perhaps the only redeeming feature of the festering blemish that is Westcrown. I must give some credit to Founder Vadrus, his crystal light fixture does make for a suitable focal point for what is perhaps one of the grandest seizures of my illustrious career. That the Reclamation would seal away something so grand with such a garrish thing as a rudimentary wall of stone speaks volumes to their lack of culture. Placing a statue of Lymirin on the dais was even further insult. These pitiful attempts at jabs against us lack any elegance or tact.

Nevertheless, the patron of first blood was a suitable spectator for the arrival of our agents.

Now, I could certainly provide a detailed recounting of the battles that ensued, how each soldier of the Inheritor fought in vain and fell before our might, or how a swarm of irritating motes tried again and again in vain to protect its charges, achieving nothing save to be a mild annoyance. I could even include some quips about the dragon of Geryon’s apparent contempt for stairs, opting instead to simply bore through the floors…

I could do all this, but I will not. The simple fact of the matter is, ascending the “tree of Nessus” was child’s play for Hell’s chosen. Maraya, the foolish brijidine, thought amassing some feeble footsoldiers and an overenthusiastic pile of window shards would be enough to so much as slow them down.

Well, that is not entirely true. Maraya knew what was coming and did try desperately to relay a warning to her masters. It’s a pity they never saw fit to send her the reinforcements she requested. How utterly unfortunate for her to suffer such a simple miscommunication…

Dear reader, I do hope you’ve caught on to the sarcasm in my words. Naturally, this was my doing.

You would think followers of a war goddess would better secure their logistics from tampering. Then again, these are the same followers that allowed the likes of an azata into their ranks, so their grasp of structure and security was already questionable at best. I can hardly take credit for sabotage when my opponents are so woefully inept. I still will, of course, but it’s a meagre accomplishment.

Maraya herself was ever so moderately more challenging than the rest of her fodder. Truly, the sole reason for that was the gift she had received from her deific patrons. Were the brijidine’s flames not bolstered with divine force, it would have been a farce to pit her against Hell’s champions. Nevertheless, even with such a gift she was humbled swiftly. Surely, she should have expected a dragon like Arcatraz to attempt to seize her and prepare some countermeasure. Or at least, a countermeasure that had not already been assassinated near the beginning of the fight. How pitiful it was, to spend her last moments being devoured, unable to flee and with her divine boon severed.

A fitting end for one of Elysium’s vagrants. Good riddance.

In the process of liberating Lord Asmodeus’ place of worship, our agents also had the good fortune of rescuing Westcrown’s High Priest, one Jarvaxus Garestic. I’m rather fond of the mortal myself. All the acumen that his father squandered was put to good use in his son by having him serve us directly. He has enough intelligence to act with only minimal guidance, unlike my dear pet, but nevertheless knows his place well enough not to overstep, unlike so many of the “faithful” in the service of our Lord. It was a stroke of wisdom to place him in Westcrown, where he could be truly useful in organising our seizure of Aroden’s last bastion. In that, he has played his part adequately. No doubt his promise would have swiftly eroded in Egorian’s courts. We have ample sycophants as it is.

Dear reader, I wish to convey how deeply pleased I am with our accomplishment. As you can surely surmise, the Pentagram Ritual was a success, and so it was that on this, the Dies Irae 110 years after the death of the mortal god Aroden, Westcrown was given over to a new master.

Now that it is well and truly ours, there’s just the simple matter of removing the unwanted guests…

GM's Notes: As you may have noticed, there was a pretty long gap since my last post. Long story short, summer schedules were hard. We got there eventually though.

Most of the temple fight was pretty standard. Most of the soldiers could barely make a dent in the intensely tanky frontline, so it was a pretty brutal stomp.

To make the final fight not be laughably easy, I added a couple chaplains and a third sword knight to support Maraya, and then made the call that Maraya had received an extra blessing, so all her fire damage was half-fire half-holy. I also turned her fire storm spell into the mythic version. That spell made a dent in the party, enough that it actually made her a threat.

Well, that was until Archie grappled her. Turns out Maraya had nothing to counter being grappled, and her one counter for that was the cleric that Kezax took out in the second round. I had a plan where she had a lower DC to escape since Archie was specifically holding her against a wall, so I was going to let her have a chance to use Meld Into Stone if she could find an opening. She didn't, and Kezax hit her with sever alignment, which I judged cancelled out her extra blessing instead. By then, the fight was pretty much over. The only thing that prevented her from dying immediately then was Dexsius being unlucky with his checks to get past her SR.

We had another session yesterday to close out that part of the campaign, but Archie's player was unwell so I just turned it into a shopping and recap session. I've got a couple commitments so it'll be a few weeks before I resume again, but after that I plan to see this ride to its end.

P.S. I don't know what's up with the post above this one. Reads like some AI spam, and the account has nothing else. I'm just going to report and move on.


24/06/04 - 36 - Into The Crypt
Firstday, 4th Rova, 322 AG, The Drift

If our plan to infiltrate Vanguard Station unsettled me, this one fills me with outright dread. The vessel bears far too many similarities to records of ancient Osirian tomb structures for my liking. As much as I appreciate the discipline of archaeology, the pervasive media trope of ancient vindictive beings emerging from crypts to unleash their wrath upon unsuspecting explorers is one I’ve never wished to live first hand. I can’t even chalk my concern to an irrational fear of fantastical monsters, because we all know full well that in this case it is very much a reality. The necrobots are still in there, and they will almost certainly not be friendly.

That expectation was proven out almost immediately. Meved hardly got his paws through the door before a group of undead robot soldiers started firing upon him. Fortunately Meved, being what he is, wasn’t affected enough for this to be an immediate problem. He pushed in to fight, and the rest of us filed in after him.

During the encounter, the necrobots spoke in their language. In fact, it was perhaps the most I’ve heard them speak thus far. I activated my interpretation spell as quickly as I could, hoping that their words might hint to some avenue of diplomatic recourse. Unfortunately, the soldier’s speech amounted to little more than assertions that they would destroy or dominate us all. A disappointing outcome, but still useful. I took note of the words to add to my growing lexicon. We’re still far from deciphering the necrobot language, but every little snippet helps. I just wish I could learn their words for “peace” or “diplomacy”...

We finished our first encounter without too much trouble, all things considered. I am still uncertain if it’s because the necrobots were weakened by the damage inflicted on their ship, or because our recent experiences have made us more effective combatants, but they seemed less fearsome than they had in the past. It’s still a far cry from anything approaching pleasant, but the notion of fighting them is ever so slightly less terrifying than it once was…

Of course, given how these situations typically play out, I fully expect some new surprise to thoroughly dash that impression of mine very shortly.

Noticing that we hadn’t been immediately set upon by additional waves of security forces, we opted to take a moment to catch our breath. Needing a bit less respite on account of being a less active participant in the last skirmish, I used the time to study the trails on the floor of the vessel. In total, I was able to identify 8 unique humanoid dna signatures. Presumably, they were signs of whatever was left of the Devourer cultists that attempted to scavenge the ship. The fact that there was a blood trail at all was an unsettling discovery. Up until now, the necrobots have been content to disintegrate their foes, with the exception of the necrobots that made a showing of wearing flayed skins. It feels distressing to say, but I almost hope that’s all this was. I shudder to think of what other uses the necrobots might have for humanoid tissue…

While the rest of us were preoccupied, Vinu decided to scout ahead. In theory, it was a sound plan. Vinu is a capable scout, and it would be helpful to know what we might be getting into…

Unfortunately, the element of surprise can apply to both sides of a conflict, and our arrival was not exactly discrete. While Vinu made her way into one of the adjacent rooms, she ran into two enemies that had likely noticed our arrival and prepared an ambush. Vinu for her part attempted to evade the two new necrobots, but even with her considerable acrobatic skills evading them both proved too much, and she was severely injured.

The rest of us weren’t too far, so we immediately jumped into action. Yaro retrieved Vinu to get her to safety while the rest of us took up defensive positions en engaged the assailants.

The necrobots Vinu encountered were unlike anything we had seen before. In place or torsos, these constructs had elongated spinal columns that gave them serpent-like mobility. Even more notable however was their means of phasing through solid matter. One of the pair moved through the wall on our side to flank Tibbers, much to his distress.

I was able to identify the phasing tech as being similar to that which the necrobots use to teleport, albeit in a more limited capacity. Actually, it was very similar to a more advanced version of the technology I adapted for my own “glitch step”. That knowledge ended up being critical later.

While Yaro held the front, protecting Vinu and myself, Meved held off the flanking foe. Tibbers meanwhile provided rather sporadic “covering fire” (I’ve come to discover as a result of this situation and his emotional distress after the fight that Tibbers may suffer from acute phasmophobia, though a deeper psychological evaluation will be needed before I can make a conclusive diagnosis).

After managing to assess the vulnerabilities in the phasing patterns used by these necrobots, I used my calibrations to fire the finishing blow on the flanking necrobot. Not long after, as the other one was on the verge of using its phasing tech to bypass Yaro’s shields, I interrupted it, just long enough to prevent the hit, and giving the others the necessary opening to finish it off.

Admittedly, it’s the most effective I’ve been in a fight in quite some time, perhaps ever even. I am usually perfectly content to use my skills to improve the rest of our team’s efficiency. If I had to speculate, seeing Vinu injured was a motivating factor. Seeing Yaro nearly killed back on Akiton shook me deeply. That is not something I ever wish to experience again.

If that means I’ll need to step up my aggression against this ship full of warmongering undead robots, then so be it.

Player's Notes: Here we go, new dungeon time! The first fight might have allowed us to get comfortable (though it was still definitely a challenge). Perhaps too comfortable for Vinu. Some of that was just unfortunate dice rolls, though Vinu might not have been as careful as she ought to have been when scouting. Perhaps it will be an important lesson for the player about being prudent when moving through rooms. I guess we'll see. Either way, it's fortunate that we weren't too far away taking our rest when it happened, or that could have been bad...

Astrea suddenly kicking ass was an amusing surprise. I almost always use harrying fire to support Meved's attacks during combat, but in this case the necrobot wraith was pretty low so I decided to go for broke in the hopes that it would free Meved up to come to the frontline, and sure enough, I had a rare spurt of luck. Then right after, the bot would have gotten a devastating melee hit on Yaro, but a well-timed cast of Edit Code made the difference. It reminded me of my DnD 5e version of Astrea, who has certainly come in clutch with a Silvery Barbs here and there.

One detail I didn't include in the journal was Tibbers trying to flee the ship after the wraith fight, and Astrea and Meved threatening his physical and reputational wellbeing to keep him in check. Seems the guy draws the line at ghost robots. Heh.


24/04/19 & 24/05/03 - Session 71 & 72 - Connect the Diabolical Dots
Moonday, 21st Kuthona, Citadel Rivad, Longmarch
Participants: Vipostix

The Pentagram Ritual continued on track. Given the individuals we have sent on this mission, one could hardly expect otherwise.

The remaining points selected for the ritual were the Southrun Eddy and Founder’s Peak. Neither are sites of any particular worth beyond historic significance. All the better that they be made useful.

First, the eddy. It could best be described as Westcrown’s sewage drain. A current pulls waste from the river into a whirlpool that naturally produces an unsightly accumulation of filth. A fitting metaphor for Westcrown itself. The death of Aroden left a city-sized gaping hole, and that hole has served as a gathering point for refuse and degenerates. Were it not for its significance, I would have preferred that we strike the filthy ruined city from the map and build it anew. Alas, far as Westcrown has fallen, it was once the greatest pillar of the human god’s worship, and that gives it worth, even in its decrepit state. Provided, of course, that it is properly cleansed first.

In that respect, the Southrun Eddy is much the same. At one time, the locals made a half-hearted attempt to clean the wretched whirlpool from time to time, but it was hardly enough to deter the immigration of a pack of omox demons. Those disgusting pests saw to the last few band of cleaners, and the effort has been abandoned since. How typical of the lazy Wiscrani, to abandon a site once sacred to their ilk for something so trivial. A properly managed territory would have sent a squadron to blast those nauseating creatures out of existence. Fortunately, Hell keeps its holdings to higher standards. Rest assured, if we create a heap of waste, it is out of intent, not negligence.

As for dealing with the interlopers, there is little to be said. The dragon woman ate one (green dragons do have questionable taste, after all) and the rest were obliterated by magic or projectiles. A savvy demonologist would recognise that omoxes weaponise their noxious bile as their primary form of offence, and such a practice can very easily be denied with simple magical solutions that purify air or avoid the need to breathe entirely. As luck would have it, the priest used just such magic briefly before the fight commenced.

My favoured pet would no doubt call this a brilliant act of prescience by one guided by the great Asmodeus. The Hellspawn priest himself may think something similar. That would be ridiculous of course. Dexsius merely made use of his magic to avoid an unpleasant smell, being the petty and vain man he is and ought to be. He was fortunate enough that it perfectly countered their upcoming foe. This fight was won not by the cunning of mortals, but by the inevitability of their natures. To understand those natures, and then to place them in the correct environments to yield the ideal outcome is how our game is played. It is a game I happen to be exceptional at. Though, I will grant, my pieces give me a modest advantage. Competent minions are a rarity these days.

There was one brief interference just barely worthy of note. In search of a suitable sacrifice, the agents seized a nearby fisherman. Uncouth and unrefined as any fisher, this one, though he had a singular talent for being astoundingly dense and irritating. Simply listening to the man prattle felt as though it were sapping my intellect, even as a distant observer. The agents dispatched him before he could cause any real damage, though they botched the sacrificial ritual in the process, wasting everyone’s time and forcing them to find another candidate.

Given the circumstances, it would be reasonable to assume that such an act was some sort of sabotage. Perhaps Iomedae or one of her inane cronies was desperate enough to attempt something, since they could hardly halt the process by force. I might have expected such a ridiculous scheme from the likes of the drunkard god-pretender or that pesky overgrown insect Desna.

And yet, it was neither. Rather, the irritating fisherman was little more than a tasteless jape from the Lantern King, of all things. Why an Archfey would dare to meddle here is beyond me, though most of their behaviours are, truth be told. Even my ability to comprehend foolishness has its limits. Let those absurdist caricatures keep to their First World; they ought to have no place in proper reality.

Well, there is little to be done over such a trivial thing as this. It did nothing but delay the inevitable by an hour or so. Let us hope they make no further attempts to derail this story, or we shall all have to suffer a most tedious tangent as we remind them of their place. None of us want that, I’m sure. This story has already gone on longer than it needs to.

Speaking of, let us take a brief moment to acknowledge the fourth ritual then be on our way. Founder’s Peak is located within the olive orchards of the Arthrugge estate. The Arthrugges are a middling noble family known only for their production of luxury oil. When the crusading army arrived, they smelt trouble and promptly left for an extended stay in Isger. A reasonable course of action for pitiful mortals with only material wealth as any metric of power. The priest considered this an act of heresy and, were it not for the interference of the teacher, would have sent his subordinates to kill them, which is hilariously in character for the zealot. If I didn’t know the reason for his continued existence, I’d have to wonder how he wasn’t already quietly assassinated by the church for his complete lack of tact. As much could be said for all of these agents really. The ways in which their follies fly in the face of standard decorum do make for great entertainment. It is the only form of chaos I can abide.

Initial reaction aside, the minions did have the sense to intend to spare the orchard of any collateral damage, lest they endanger Egorian’s precious supply of olive oil. It was a pledge that makes the ensuing events all the more amusing. You see, that plan changed rather abruptly when they came across a giant ram-shaped animate bush. Being the territorial creature it was, it attacked them, and in the ensuing commotion the peasants swiftly hid in their cellar, hoping to hide from the dragon that apparently roamed onto the premises. The agents took exception to the disrespect.

Well, I suppose they mostly kept to their plan. Only a modest patch of the orchard and all of its caretakers were incinerated or corroded, and a token effort was made to compensate for the destruction. Really, the only measure of restraint was that the manor was still standing and House Arthrugge may survive with only a few ruined harvests. Most likely, our dear Queen will rationalise this as the cost of doing business and find some way to turn backlash into political clout. At times, her ability to twist things to her favour rivals that of my precious Dominus.

It’s of little import to me, of course. Egorian could stand to lose a few of its luxuries from time to time. Such scarcities serve us well. You’d be surprised how many nobles are willing to sign away a soul or two for the sake of a few high quality ingredients. Of course, it’s never their own, but it serves us all the same. Chelaxian nobles are quite generous when bartering with goods that are not their own.

In any case, that sets things up nicely for the last and most important step of the ritual. Assuming all goes well, and there is no reason it wouldn’t, Westcrown will be in our hands by the day’s end.

What a wonderful way to celebrate Dies Irae!

GM's Notes: This one ended up being quite late. The sessions lately have been rather short and simple, so coming up with enough to merit a journal entry has been a bit tough. I've combined two sessions for this one, and will be combining the last session and the upcoming one as well.

The fisherman wasn't exactly planned, but just a joke that emerged from us joking about the fisherman being a very special kind of stupid where he didn't realise what was going to happen to him. Everyone was so eager to kill him, and then rolled a nat 1 on the Religion check to do the ritual, so I decided to turn it into a comical supernatural event.

Nettles was a fun encounter, but frankly suffered from the fact that the party is simply too strong. He got one two-person trample down before getting blasted into oblivion. This is what happens when a player gets hit too often in the early game and way overcompensates on their AC. Also, that map was entirely too small for Nettles, so I ended up using a big blank battlemap instead. In hindsight, I think I would have tossed a second one in there, just to keep them on their toes. It's a lesson I'm keeping in mind for the future.


24/05/14 - 35 - Archon Without an Anchor
Fourthday, 31st Arodus, 322 AG, Bulwark, The Drift

My previous log entry surmised my conclusions regarding the necrobot pyramid ship, but there is one detail that I neglected. In all of the recent chaos, it must have slipped my mind, but thankfully Yaro reminded me when I went over my report with him.

A few weeks ago, when travelling to Castrovel, we identified a necrobot signature in the Drift. At the time, we opted to avoid it, playing it safe. Later, I would speculate that the signature might have something to do with the records of the Failed Gate experiment that mentioned an ancient dead city in the Drift that matched necrobot descriptions. At the time, I had no reason to believe that the pyramid ship had survived O’Toole’s bombardment, much less that it would be in the Drift. Knowing this now and correlating the Devourer cultist salvage mission with the necrobot signature’s coordinates, it would track that these would match.

All that to say that we’ve effectively solved two mysteries: the location of the pyramid, and what lies at that lingering signature. It doesn’t exactly make the prospect of investigating it any less terrifying, but at the very least it means we are likely dealing with only an isolated vessel, rather than something more severe. At least, I sincerely hope that’s the case.

After reporting the findings to the others, we decided that it would be best for everyone if after our stop into Bulwark, we investigated the pyramid and neutralised any remaining necrobots before they have a chance to hurt anyone else. If we could communicate or learn something more about them, that would be ideal, since our understanding of this enigmatic species is still limited at best. The necrobots have shown themselves to be intelligent, advanced, and ruthless, so any means to deter further aggressive actions from them would be worth pursuing. I’ve done some research to help with that, which I’ll disclose later.

Seeing Bulwark again was a welcome change. Our encounter with the Devourer cult may have been brief, but I feel like even after numerous ablutions the stench of death and cruelty still lingers. It may not have been as horrific as the worst depictions I’ve seen, but that’s a very low bar, and holovid gore is never quite the same as seeing it in person. Stepping onto the heavenly island by comparison felt like the first time in a while that I was truly safe, mild discomfort from the lawful planar energies aside.

Over the course of our two days of travel, Rasiel’s condition improved greatly. Permanent injuries notwithstanding, he was in good enough form to walk unaided. He bid us thanks and farewell before setting off on his own, leaving us to report to Sondrya. In my brief time with him, my impression of Rasiel was that as long as he managed to find an outlet for his frustration and a means to not feel helpless after his injuries, he would eventually make a full recovery. However, his reaction upon returning to Bulwark’s atmosphere showed clear signs of emotional distress. I initially thought it might be some form of survivor’s guilt or shame at his capture, but his comments made it clear that his reaction stemmed from the fact that his severed connection with Bulwark’s planar energies did not come back upon his return.

Admittedly, I am no expert on the planar attunement properties of archons. Perhaps with time the attunement would return, but even so, I would not be surprised if such a process was a long one, even for an extraplanar being. I don’t know that I have the ability to relate to such a feeling, but if I had to guess, feeling intrinsically disconnected from your home must be incredibly lonely and disheartening…

As for the rest of our time in Bulwark, Sondrya was quick to thank us for our aid, and provided us with ample resources to prepare for our upcoming mission. The Omega-Zed was dismantled and used to further improve the Everdawn, and our crew went about seeking out some upgrades to our equipment. Meved also had the cultist leader’s armour adjusted and retrofitted for his own use. Personally, I had my devwear improved and commissioned a very fetching plush toy with the few remaining credits. Much as some of my companions might tease me for it, they cannot refute the scientifically proven therapeutic benefits of snuggling an adorable fuzzy creature.

While docked, I also took some time to revisit my academic training to perhaps further assess how I might best be able to deal with the upcoming dangers. The result of this investigation is that I’ve repurposed my cache into a converter of sorts. To put it succinctly, I’ve given myself the means to access and reproduce spells outside of my normal repertoire more easily. It should give me the means to better adapt to sudden situations more effectively, in case we should find ourselves in a surprise situation.

I also took some time to put the finishing touches on a project I’ve been conducting on the side. Ever since the first time I was able to disrupt a necrobot’s death protocol (through which we acquired Veronica), I’ve been looking for ways to more reliably reproduce that effect, and perhaps even counteract the unique necrobot form of teleportation altogether.

The result of my research is a spell somewhat akin to the well documented counterspell form of “Dispel Magic”, with a few particularities to account for the unique quantum forces applied by the necrobots. It will take some field testing to know if the spell, which I am dubbing “Quantum Tether” is truly successful, but for posterity I’ve taken the liberty of publishing my research on the extranet. If for whatever reason I am unable to continue work on it myself, then perhaps others might be able to pick up where I left off. I doubt Vari will be happy, and it took some work to find a way to skirt the legal loopholes of my contract with AbadarCorp to share this information, but the safety of Pact Space should supercede any profits or accolades we might receive from hoarding this knowledge. Copyright infringement will be inconsequential if we are all dead or enslaved.

Before our departure, Bulwark had one last surprise for us in the form of a new addition to our crew. Rasiel asked to join us in our mission against the necrobots. I suppose given his circumstances, leaving with us may indeed be preferable to staying in Bulwark. Furthermore, while most residents of Bulwark would be unable to leave for fear of losing their attunement, such a concern no longer existed for Rasiel. While I feel a certain apprehension at taking away such a capable soldier from the stranded piece of Heaven, I cannot deny that he would likely be a big help.

I mean that in the most literal sense. I never knew shield archon armour to be quite so massive. In fact, it’s more akin to a piloted mech suit…

Player's Notes: With that, we've hit level 8! In-game, this was basically a shopping session and levelling up session, which frankly was welcome after so long. I'd been sitting on a plan to tweak Astrea's build a bit for a while now, since I wanted to do it during a level up. I've given her the Magic Academy Student archetype (honestly in retrospect, she should have had it since the start; it even brings her closer mechanically to her original Pathfinder 1e build as a Magaambyan Arcanist). The new level also means I'll be able to give her two spells that are signature "Astrea" powers: Hold Person and Dispel Magic. The Quantum Tether spell is something our GM gave me as a bonus on the grounds of all the research I've been doing into the necrobots. It's basically a reaction spell to negate the teleportation and "disintegrate on death" abilities that the necrobots have.

As for Rasiel piloting what is basically a freaking Gundam... I have no comment other than it's pretty cool. Not sure how that will translate in the game mind you.


GM's Notes: I'm actually a week behind on these, but 71 was a short session so I might just combine it with 72. For now, enjoy a double feature!

24/04/12 - Session 70 - Mortal Marina
Sunday, 20th Kuthona, Citadel Rivad, Longmarch
Participants: Vipostix

My dear puppet elected not to join the second sortie for the Pentagram Ritual. Hearing the rumour that Alexeara Cansellarion is a recipient of a god’s words piqued his interest enough to merit further conversation with the Knight Commander. All the better that he take some time away from his companions; it will give me more time to refine my control. One of the downsides of creating such a suggestible mind is that it remains susceptible from any source, and I am not fond of sharing. I may well need to keep a close eye until his purpose is served, lest someone try to take him from me.

But fear not, lovely audience. This “splitting of the party” will not deprive you your voyeurism. I’ll even grant you the privilege of seeing both perspectives. On that note, let’s see what little adventure the Agents of Thrune have embarked on…

With the first point of the ritual complete at the Adeletti, the Agents decided to continue the ritual in a clockwise pattern. It was amusing watching them try to reconcile the fact that they would not be following the order of a pentagram. Ultimately, they decided that a pentacle would be the next best thing, as though this had import. They try so desperately to cling to patterns, like ants unfailingly following the trail set for them. Naturally, we’ve ample contingencies to ensure that the ritual would succeed regardless of order, but their adherence to known structures is quaintly charming.

What does matter is the significance of these sites. Each tied to a founder of Aroden’s faith in Westcrown, and thus, a cornerstone of the dead god’s lingering hold on the city. The Adeletti honoured Founder Crucisal, spirit of water travel and patron od the adeliers. The Agents’ next destination was the Condottari Marina, where Founder Dotara, the spirit of guardians and patron of dottari, defined the structures of the city watch. Why she chose such a small secluded rock in the middle of the channel, I’ve never bothered to research, but it serves our purposes well. The Marina was guarded, but hardly by anyone capable of putting up a real fight.

As expected, it was a slaughter, and an entertaining one at that. The elven paraduke appeared before the halfling major and her three condottari in training with all the dramatic flair I would expect from one of Thrune’s beloved peons. He lacks the presence of a proper servant of Hell, but his ability to punctuate his taunts with sufficiently powerful magic validates his authority, perhaps even enough to consider him as a future project. Disintegrating the diminutive guardwoman’s firearm was a particularly nice touch, though personally I would have used it against her instead and preserved it. The weapon’s design was interesting enough to merit inspection. That said, I can hardly complain about the method of execution. The half-blood priest has taken quite a liking to his death clutch magic, and to date the spectacle has not worn out its welcome.

As for the trainees… There are times where I wonder what it must be like for a mortal with such limited vision, to find themselves fired upon by projectiles emanating from invisible forces. These deaths seem so pitiful when one sees as much as I do. From my perspective, the lizard and the would-be noble unleashed volley after volley upon those men with impunity, while all they could do was bob their heads in confusion and make futile attempts to swim to shore in the hopes of not being picked off one by one (which, as one might expect, is exactly what happened).

My favourite part of this charade of a defence was the attempt at an aquatic counter-ambush. That a cetaceal would think she could do anything of value against my agents was as laughable as seeing her be sent right back to her plane as soon as she emerged to confront them. Her summoned elemental soon after met a similar fate and now finds itself wallowing in so much dirt.

The triton servant to the celestial beast fared only marginally better before meeting his demise. In some ways, I could see some parallels between the aquatic sniper and the kobold butler. Their unfailing service to a greater being of planar power, their preference for crossbows… Would that he shared in the ability to be subtle, and perhaps he might not have died so pitifully. An ambush is only worthwhile if the follow through is successful.

So it was, the dockworkers hiding in the marina lost what little protection they had. One was taken for the sacrifice, and the others were made wonderfully awful prey to a swarm of insects. Not the most efficient use of manpower, perhaps, but it certainly punctuated the point. Only servants of Hell will be spared in Westcrown’s rebirth.

Now then, shall we see what my dear Dominus was up to?

24/04/12 - Session 70 - Where Only Statues Hear
Sunday, 20th Kuthona, Citadel Rivad, Longmarch
Participants: Dominus

As his companions preoccupied themselves with the continuation of their mission in Westcrown, Dominus remained at the Citadel, eager to sate his curiosity.

Endranni Malesk, Knight Commander of the Glorious Reclamation, one of Alexeara Cansellarion’s most capable tacticians, and the one tasked with the capture of Citadel Rivad, hung limply in his cell, the chains on his wrists keeping him upright. His body was covered in bruises and welts from prior interrogations, but between his mable skin and the heavenly chorus that seemed to supernaturally surround him, he appeared almost as though some religious monument.

That thought crossed Dominus’ mind as he entered the room, chair in hand. There may even be merit to it, in some capacity. He had come seeking spiritual clarity, after all.

Endranni woke when the cell opened, though he did not raise his head to speak.

“Have you come to end this charade, or do you still believe you can draw blood from this stone? You will learn nothing from me.”

“I beg to differ. I think there is a great deal I will learn from you.”

The new voice was enough to make the prisoner look up, seeing the smiling face of the knight sitting in front of him.

“Ah, the false paladin. The madman who believes himself some kind of chosen one.”

“Do you think it wise to taunt those whose mercy you depend on, heretic?”

Endranni spat on the floor. “Your mercy is as much a mockery as your faith, Fex. I’ve read enough reports of your deeds to know the kinds of atrocities you commit to those in your ‘care’. I’m under no illusions as to my fate. I fear neither death nor damnation. I’ve done my part to serve our Lady’s will. No torture will undo what we’ve achieved. Hurting me does nothing save validate my accomplishments. So do your worst. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Dominus’ smile never wavered, nor did his eyes turn away. It was the unnerving stare that frightened countless people, and for many, was the last sight they had ever seen. “You misunderstand. I have no intention of harming you. I merely wish to converse. However, you’ve touched on a subject I am rather interested in. Tell me, just what is it you believe you have accomplished? Your army is eradicated. Any influence your corruption has had on the land has been cleansed. Save for Westcrown, the ‘Reclamation’, as you call it, is a failure. So, what accomplishments do you speak of?”

A weak smirk adorned the general’s pale lips, though his missing teeth made it somewhat more crooked than it used to be. “The accomplishment of exposing the Chelish ‘Empire’ for a poorly supported house of cards. Even if I was not victorious, even if you manage to retake Westcrown… That damage is done. Thrune’s empire has been crumbling for decades, but now everyone knows how fragile you truly are.” Spurred by his own words, the prisoner continued with even more vigour, “Our movement will be the first of many. You’ve already lost Ravounel. You will surely lose more. Even if there isn’t another organised force, the vultures have already begun picking the carcass apart. It’s only a matter of time before your nobles and your church turn on each other, before citizens realise that they need not suffer your tyranny and call once more for justice… You’ve done nothing but delay the inevitable.”

For the briefest of moments, a twinge flicked across Dominus’ eerily still smile, though it vanished just as quickly as it came. “Amusing. I see what you are trying to do. You wish for me to lose my temper and strike at you, to justify to yourself that I am some base creature fuelled by hatred, as you are. But I do not hate you. Your ignorance is repulsive, but it cannot be helped, because you do not understand the world as I do. You do not know the Truth that I know.”

It was faint, but Endranni was clever enough to know when his words struck a chord. Arrogance inserted itself into his disdainful tone. “Is this where you espouse a sermon your psychotic faith, that you utter your nonsense that the Lady of Valor is somehow the Dark Prince’s servitor?”

A sigh escaped from the servant of the Divine Order, “No, I would not waste the words of the Divine Order on a wretch so far gone as yourself. Your leader however… This Lady Alexeara Cansellarion. She may yet be deserving of this wisdom.”

The mere mention of his beloved commander’s name made the aasimar’s blood boil. “If you believe the Lord Marshal would listen to a single vile word to come out of your mouth, you are gravely mistaken.”

The innocence on Dominus’ face may well have been feigned or genuine, few other than himself would know which it was. “But why not? She is already privy to the Holy Word, is she not?”

“Do not even dare to compare your psychosis with her!” Endranni’s voice increased to a shout, “Lord Marshal Cansellarion is a true conduit of the divine, not some pretender like you! It is the Inheritor herself whose will she channels!”

“Then it is true. Lady Iomedae truly guides the hand of this mortal soul?” The false paladin leaned in, eager for the next response.

Overtaken by emotion, the Knight Commander hardly noticed that he had played into his captor’s hand. He wished only to wipe the smile off of the vile being’s face. “Yes. I’ve seen it myself. The woman is blessed, and with our Lady guiding her, the Lord Marshal will surely end your miserable heresy!”

The response Endranni Malesk received however, was not dread, nor frustration. Rather, it was joy. The man sitting opposite him, who eagerly participated in tyranny and torture, had the unmistakeable look of immense jubilance.

“Such wonderful news… Wonderful!”, Dominus affectionately patted the prisoner's shoulder, as one would a companion, “Truly, I must thank you, lost lamb… To learn of this is a true blessing!”

“Only a madman or someone who seeks absolution would rejoice at the promise of their own destruction… I pity you.” The knight commander could only look in confusion and concern. It was a look Dominus had seen all too many times from the priests on his pilgrimage.

The servant of the Divine Order sat back down in his chair, his exuberance tamed somewhat, “Your failure to see the Truth is vexing, but you have given me a gift, and merits reward. Speak then, how have you come to pity me?”

“I pity all who have succumbed to the temptations of tyranny. Your short sightedness will be your undoing, all of you. You chose to be loyal to something that has no loyalty towards you. Do you really believe Thrune won’t throw you to the dogs the moment it’s convenient for them? That Hell will spare you from the agonies of damnation? You will enjoy a brief privilege at the cost of an eternity of suffering, and you will realise far too late that it was a poor deal.”

Dominus stroked his chin, as though pondering the words. His impression of a scholar seemed almost comical when one knew of his reputation. “It is this that separates you and I, heretic. Your thinking is far too narrow and simplistic. You see this as some sort of battle where one side must win and the other must lose. Where power and suffering reside in what one can grasp with their hands or feel with their flesh. This is not the way the world works!”

“...” Endranni waited in silence, watching the twisted cogs turn in the broken mind before him.

“The Reality of this universe is more akin to a puzzle, or a beautifully intricate machine composed of many fine components, each working in harmony to produce something beautiful and meaningful. What are Heaven and Hell, if not gears that grind in opposition to each other, each necessary to maintain the motion of its counterpart? What is punishment, if not simply a purification of the materials? I do not fear such things, because I am pure, and if I were to receive such a thing, then I would know it is in the service of honing me, as one uses a whetstone on a blade to sharpen it. Do you understand? Divine punishment is only a punishment if one misunderstands its purpose!”

Dominus stood from his chair. He begun to restlessly pace around the cell, as though energy was desperate to scape from him.

“I suppose I cannot blame your ignorance. Even I did not fully grasp Order’s Will until now. I thought your uprising to be a festering infection, but that is not entirely accurate. You are impurities yes, but the nature of your rebellion is not chaotic, as a malady might be. No, this is a controlled extraction, as one might do to filter out impurities from clean water. I thought you all lost lambs, stampeding without reason, but you had a shepherd after all! I see now that your Lord Marshal truly is the other half to this equation. She is the anvil to my hammer! The one who sets firm the steel of our Empire so that I might strike it until it is perfectly shaped! She sees the Truth as I do, and we shall complete each other! This is the Divine Order’s Will!”

After hearing such a litany, it was all the Knight Commander could do not to weep for the state of the false paladin’s deluded mind. “Dominus Fex, I pray that one day the light of heaven will reach that tortured broken mind of yours, for it is clear to me that your are well beyond any sort of mortal salvation.”

As Dominus’ thoughts raced, he barely considered Endranni’s words, “I thank you, but the Divine Order’s light shines upon me amply. In fact, as Lady Alexeara has herded you to me as a herald of our joint purpose, it is only appropriate that I complete the ritual to acknowledge the message. For the anvil guides…”

Dominus’ hands raised up, revealing the heavy mace Sinderbos in their grip. Endranni closed his eyes for the last time.

“…and the hammer strikes.”

The flaw in the metaphor was not lost on either man. To forge an item with anvil and hammer, it ought to be composed of metal.

Be it made of marble, or bone and flesh, Knight Commander Endranni Malesk’s body would ultimately make a poor, and messy, substitute.

GM's Notes: Funny enough, none of my players seemed to have much interest in conversing with Endranni after his capture, and yet I had so many lines I wanted him to say to the party. Ultimately, I just ended up recycling them for this interrogation. It also gave me an opportunity to properly dig into Dominus' feeling about Cansellarion's "unique gift", which is something I absolutely would have taken some time with if I was still a player.

I actually knew about the "hears Iomdeae's voice reveal before we started the campaign. Before even that, I knew that there was an option to corrupt Alexeara, so the concepts I put forth for a character were all linked to the idea of corrupting others. Dominus ended up emerging to fit a need among the party for a frontliner, and fit the idea of a twisted Iomedaean perfectly. The hearing voices part I added in when that little detail was shared with me, which prompted me to turn him into even more of a sort of evil version of the BBEG (or BBGG in this case). Now, I can finally set the groundwork for that eventual payoff. It's quite exciting!


24/04/02 - 34 - Vanquished Vanguard
Seconday, 29th Arodus, 322 AG, Bulwark, The Drift

In theory, our plan was sound. Decoupling the Omega-Zed was trivial, leaving only our team and the Everdawn to worry about. Even then, we didn’t expect much trouble traversing the station. Most of the cultist forces had either been weakened or eliminated by our initial entry, and we had left enough countermeasures behind to ensure that they couldn’t mount a significant threat beyond a few isolated hostiles.

Meved happened to run into just such a hostile as he took point for our ascent back up the station’s main shaft. The cultist surrendered, and Meved reluctantly respected Yaro’s wishes by accepting. Why the man immediately attempted to shoot the person who granted him mercy in the back is beyond me, but it should come as no surprise that it went poorly. Our resident ursine was less forgiving the second time. I suppose the cultist was truly devoted to his faith’s principles. That, or adrenaline impeded his reasoning skills very severely. Either way, it was an unfortunate incident. Hopefully Yaro won’t take it too hard. The fact that he managed to take any prisoners during our mission is itself a genuinely impressive feat.

Based on my previous outline, the next step was to rendezvous with Murkk. When I last spoke with her, she was in the engine room. The idea was that we would secure her, rig the station’s engine to blow, and then leave before detonation.

Upon reaching the engine, we learned that our goblin companion had skipped a few steps. The reactor was already set for imminent meltdown, and Murkk herself was in the process of riding an escape pod into the Drift much like one would ride a beast of burden.

[Editor’s Note: This choice of words was deliberate. I feel as though it is important to stress for accuracy’s sake that Murkk did not pilot the pod from within, as would be its intended method of operation, but was in fact holding onto it from the exterior. I have come to suspect that these sorts of eccentricities are central to goblinoid culture, and therefore should be acknowledged to give a proper picture of what one might expect when including a goblin in one’s crew.]

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that things would not play out as planned. Nothing involving Murkk ever seems to line up with expectations…

This meant we would have to focus all of our immediate attention on the last step: escaping the station before it explodes. Meved and Vinu, with their privileged modes of accelerated vertical movement, had little trouble returning to the Everdawn in short order. That left Yaro and I to find a solution for ourselves.

Perhaps we would have had enough time to climb up the rest of the shaft and join the others, but given the nature of the sabotage, a more expedient method seemed preferable. Fortunately for us, the escape pod Murkk commandeered was not the only one left.

These were the events that led to Yaroslav and I watching the detonation of Vanguard Station from the confines of a rather cramped escape shuttle while we waited for the Everdawn to collect us. It was perhaps not the most comfortable solution, but there are far worse people to be stuck in a pod with.

[Editor’s Note: I must dispel any rumours that this situation was a deliberate choice on my part. I didn’t have time to properly check the structural integrity of multiple pods, so it was simply logical that we share the first one I confirmed to be safe enough to use. It was also more efficient, since it would reduce the time needed for the Everdawn to retrieve us both from individual shuttles. There were absolutely no ulterior motives at play.]

[Editor’s Note: Vinu keeps suggesting that I include details about how Yaro and I spent our time in the pod to make this entry more “spicy”. The flavour profile of my written reports aside, these are meant to be professional accounts of our missions, not some kind of torrid romance novel. I realise my writing has become less formal of late, but surely I still have some scientific integrity left in my authorship…]

[Editor’s Note: For reasons completely unrelated to the previous note, consider future investigation into the psycho-hormonal impacts of near death experiences and prolonged intimate proximity, and how to reliably recreate these hypothetical effects. Additionally, include a search for “flexibility training” to my bookmarks for further study.]

Our return trip to Bulwark consisted mainly of tending to Rasiel’s wounds, both physical and psychological. Naturally the exact nature of my treatment is subject to patient privilege and will not be disclosed, but sufficed to say that the disjoining of a celestial being from their natural environment is a deeply traumatic experience. The symptoms are comparable to the loss of a major sensory faculty, and in combination with the torture and mutilation he suffered, Rasiel will likely require intensive rehabilitative care beyond what we could provide on the Everdawn. Nevertheless, he has shown remarkable resilience, and is doing far better than one could expect, given the circumstances.

The two cultist prisoners have been moved to the Everdawn as well, and are remaining in confinement in some of our unused crew rooms. We’ve occasionally checked up on them, and I’ve noticed no problematic developments so far. In fact, they seem quite content with their lodgings, which is understandable, given that these quarters are designed with comfort in mind. I imagine we will have to figure out what to do with them eventually, but I suspect it is an awkward conversation that Yaro and Soryn are all too happy to put off for now.

There was actually another new addition as a result of our mission: we’ve inadvertently acquired a new chef. “Jean-Philippe” was operating out of the Omega-Zed, and seemed to have little interest in our conflict or even who was operating the vessel. In fact, he didn’t seem to demonstrate much interest in anything other than preparing food. Since our departure, he appears to have migrated to our kitchen without much prompting, and only acknowledges our presence to refuse any sort of interference on our part. Besides that, Jean-Philippe has shown no signs of overt hostility, so we’ve elected to leave him be.

This particular development is… Perplexing, to say the least. Then again, it’s not significantly more enigmatic than Murkk, and overall less intrusive. In fact, his food is actually quite enjoyable and nutritionally balanced, if a little unsettling at times.

Among those unsettling foods is “Eoxian gumbo”, a dish Jean-Philippe has on numerous occasions lamented his lack of ingredients for. A cursory search into this dish indicates that what makes it unique is the use of an extract from the Eoxian nettle, which has a mild paralytic agent that creates a numbing feeling and temporarily impedes sensory input. This can then be paired with potent flavour profiles that gradually emerge during consumption as the nettle’s poison subsides, giving an impression that the taster’s senses are “returning from the dead”. While I was initially hesitant at the notion of consuming anything from Eoxian cuisine, this phenomenon does sound rather intriguing as an experience. I’ve already taken note to look for Eoxian nettle when we next visit a world with an active spice market.

Beyond tending to our new passengers, I also took some time to investigate the Omega-Zed and gather a bit more information about the Cult of the Devourer’s operations. Previously, I hypothesised that they might have some sort of interaction with the necrobots, or at least awareness of them, given their occupation in the Drift. This was confirmed when we learned that the Omega-Zed had necrobot materials aboard.

The Omega-Zed’s “Victor” VI is somewhat cumbersome to interact with, but I was able to learn a few worthwhile details. By the ship’s account, a few weeks ago they ran into what appeared to be a scuttled or damaged pyramid-like vessel in the Drift. On approach, the pyramid fired on the Omega-Zed, which retaliated in kind. Initially the pyramid seemed indestructible, but the cultists managed to shut the ship down by destroying the damaged crystal near its summit. This allowed the cultists to send in two parties to salvage whatever they could from the stalled ship, one from without, and one from within.

The crew tasked with salvaging exterior components managed to take away several layers of the pyramid’s outer hull, which is what we found in the Omega-Zed’s storage bay. The crew that entered the ship never reemerged. They were considered lost and left for dead.

After reviewing the footage and account of the incident, I believe we can say with confidence that the pyramid ship the Omega-Zed encountered is the very same one that attacked Khefak Depot. Based on the damage profile on the pyramid and the relative time markers, this scavenging operation also transpired very shortly after O’Toole’s “ordinance drop”.

This tells us three very important things. The first is that a direct strike from a fully armed ballistic missile is insufficient to completely destroy a necrobot pyramid ship. The second is that the crystal structure at the summit seems to not regenerate, and can be destroyed with enough concentrated firepower, making it the vessel’s weak point. The third, and perhaps most worrisome, is that that necrobot ship is still out there somewhere…

Given how much time has elapsed in combination with the necrobots’ regenerative capabilities and technology, it would be hard to say if that ship is still disabled, or if the necrobots were able to retrieve or restore it. However, knowing about such an important structural weakness is definitely valuable tactical information…

Player's Notes: We're back! Well, kinda. We've had a lot of skipped sessions on account of scheduling issues. We actually had this session a while back, but I'm only finishing it now in anticipation of what I hope will be our next game this Tuesday. I guess we'll see!

Jean-Philippe is a weird little (or not so little; he's a huge frog/tentacle creature) joke character, and I doubt he'll end up being significant in any way. But then again, who knows...


24/04/06 - Session 69 - The Rack Extracted
Starday, 20th Kuthona, Citadel Rivad, Longmarch

Citadel Rivad is undoubtedly an impressive structure befitting the Order that holds it. The Hellknights of the Rack bear the unenviable burden of combatting dissenting thought and belligerence within Avistan. Among their enemies lie not only those who commit heresy, but those that may unknowingly be walking towards that path. As one who understands all too well the fickleness of the mind and the dangerous appeal of curiosity, it is an understandably difficult mandate to maintain. It is for that reason that I’ve always held a great respect for the Order of the Rack, second only perhaps to the Godclaw.

Some might think there is an irony that the new Lictor of the Rack is of the Signifiers, an uncommon occurrence among most Orders. However, this strikes me as an eminently logical approach. Magic can hold immense sway over the thoughts of the unsuspecting, so it is only natural that an Order based on the cleansing of ideas have a profound understanding of that facet. This aside, Lictor Darcyne Wrens comports herself with all of the authority and poise one ought to for such an important role.

Her wisdom was apparent when she welcomed our group to the Citadel readily, swift to secure the captured Knight Commander for further interrogation as she briefed us on the situation in the region. Regrettably, the siege limited what intel they could provide, though Lictor Wrens at least supplied us with the names of those most important foes we must vanquish to eliminate the false power structure in Westcrown.

By the Lictor’s account, the Reclamation’s heretical leader, Alexeara Cansellarion, has surrounded herself with powerful and noteworthy followers. She spoke of the woefully corrupted priestess of Iomedae, Bellinia Dorjana. To think that a descendent of pious royalty would fall so low emphasises the depths of this festering wound in the Divine Order. Another was the dwarven oracle Gardel Vargrinnar. He is an old friend of the Cansellarion family, and thus was likely led astray well before the Reclamation took shape. Vors Kyniar, the Taldan ambassador to Cheliax, was also implicated as a heretic sympathiser, which explains Our Highness’ desire to see him returned to the capital before he might inflict further damage through his diplomatic channels.

The corrupted consisted not only of mortals, however. Aveshiel and Maraya, a planetar and brijidine azata respectively, count among the ranks of the Reclamation heretics. Azatas, being the pests that they are, are an understandable presence among the corrupt, but to hear that such a significant warrior of justice also stood among them was disheartening. For this folly to reach so high into Heaven’s ranks, I can only fathom the depths of the surgery we must complete to remove this infection…

Fortunately, not all of the names spoken were foes. Lictor Wrens provided us with some valuable information regarding potential allies. The High Priest of Asmodeus, Jarvaxus Garestic, was among the first to be proposed. Our Queen also spoke of him, and it would seem Father Dexsius knows of his name as well, so perhaps there is some merit in rescuing this priest. She also indicated that several major houses remain intact in Westcrown to her knowledge, some of which may simply be biding their time to support an initiative against their captors. Last among the list, the Lictor spoke of one of her own, Paralictor Gonville Chard. When last they communicated a few days ago, Taranik House, the Rack base of operations in the city proper, was under assault, and though the Lictor feared the worst, she suspected the Paralictor would be shrewd enough to evade capture and execution. Being an agent within the city, Paralictor Chard may indeed be a valuable source of information on the Reclamation’s workings.

This being said, all of this knowledge paled in comparison to the rumour Lictor Wrens shared with us. A detail that if true, completely alters the nature of this inquisition and my very role in this service of the Divine Order: it is said that Alexeara Cansellarion is spoken to by Iomedae directly.

This rumour bears similarities with one I had previously heard of Queen Galfrey of Mendev, an admirable figure that worked tirelessly to combat the wretched demons of the Abyss in the far North. These stories are often dismissed as absurdities, but I know them to be true, for it is a gift I share in as well. To be blessed with the voice of the divine is something very few can fathom, even among the learned and the wise.

If this is what Lady Cansellarion is experiencing, perhaps her misguided crusade is simply indicative of some flaw in her understanding? Or perhaps it is not, and this rebellion bears a greater significance? The machinations of the Divine Order are often complex, far too complex for mortal comprehension. In such circumstances, faith must guide us, and my spirit tells me that there is a Truth here that I Must uncover.

My contemplations would have to wait for after more material objectives were resolved though, as we had set our sights on our next objective: the rescue of Paralictor Chard and the first sacrifice in the rededication of Westcrown. Father Dexsius remained in the Citadel, preoccupied with stabilising the purification magic he had performed upon the shield archon Othiel, while the rest of us set off.

It is too infrequent that I praise our dear Paraduke Kennari. His magical acumen has been endlessly convenient in ensuring us both swift and comfortable travel, allowing us to focus our efforts on the tasks at hand with neither distraction nor delay. It is for this reason we permitted him a brief moment to lament the state of the city that was once his residence. The Paraduke had not returned to Westcrown in decades, and could only remark that the once beautiful jewel of the Chelaxian Empire was but a pitiful shadow of its former self. It is fortunate then that we have arrived, heralds of its rebirth and rejuvenation!

Mistr Kezax, ever the capable scout, took point in investigating Taranik House. The office had been struck fiercely. No doubt the Reclamation heretics feared what the Rack might do in response to their crimes, and launched an unprovoked attack with disproportionate force. These are the only circumstances in which a righteous Hellknight can be felled, as we have seen. Nothing of note remained in the mistreated building, so Mister Kezax continued his search. This led us to the Adeletti, a former warehouse that had been repurposed as the guildhall for the ferrymen who navigate the city’s many channels. It is there that we would need to make our first sacrifice, and there that we would encounter a situation.

The Adeletti was surrounded by dottari guards attempting to control what was apparently an active hostage situation. Mister Kezax was able to slip past the security barricade and enter the building to learn more. There, he found two iron golems standing guard, and beyond them the sounds of hurried construction and agitated pacing.

A well-placed spell to displace us to Kezax’s location brought us within the Adeletti, and face to face with the metallic guardians. We recognised these golems to be of Hellknight make, which made my presence ideal. My gauntlets made clear my place within the Orders, and thus I commanded the guardians to allow us passage into the adjoining room.

Days without food or bath left Paralictor Chard in a less than ideal state, but even then, there was no mistaking his identity as a proper Hellknight. Our mutual recognition made the ensuring discussion very efficient. The man had been instructing one of the ferrymen to repair one of the damaged barges, a means to secure his escape from the city to regroup with his allies in Citadel Rivad. We offered him an alternative: we would transport him directly to the Citadel, and in return, we would use his worker for a greater purpose. The other captives would regrettably be eliminated, so as not to disseminate any information to our foes. Paralictor Chard, sensible as he was, immediately agreed to our proposition.

The ritual was simple enough to conduct, remarkably so, given its potency. Though it was but a small fraction of the true effect, the Infernal energy I felt diffusing itself into the structure of the historic building marked our ritual as powerful magic indeed. The first step towards a truly magnificent reconstitution!

In part bolstered by the ritual, and desiring some measure of righteous retribution for the crimes committed against the Order of the Rack, we opted to confront the dottari directly, rather than flee without incident. By my own estimation, it would not do to leave such corrupt individuals unpunished, lest we give the lost flock a false impression of Justice.

The soldiers sent to capture Paralictor Chard were formidable for their ilk. If nothing else, I can appreciate that the Reclamation heretics have enough sense still to hold the Hellknights in such esteem. However, this was far from enough to prepare them for our presence. Mister Kezax’s well-placed bolts, Paraduke Kennari’s devastating fire and lightning, Miss Archie’s splendid draconic form, and my righteous blade would not be halted by their meagre protections, and their strikes could barely scratch the magnificently clad golems of the Rack. Paralictor Chard, even in his weakened state, joined us long enough to deliver the finishing blow on the last remaining soldier. His blade was not dull as it struck its mark with all the precision I might expect of a disciplined protector of Order.

So it was that we departed, most of us teleporting while Miss Arcatraz carried off the golems in her draconic form. The heretics would know that they could no longer touch the Hellknight Order of the Rack. In time, these paragons of True Law will surely return in full force to repay the debt these lowly criminals have incurred…

GM's Notes: There was a bit of a chain of events that led to yet another hiatus. I was travelling, then upon my return I was very sick, then another player was undergoing renovations... It led to a bit of a dry spell. But I resolved to absolutely play this past week so as not to let complacency get the better of us. Dexsius' player was regrettably unable to join, so I directed the party to a mission that would be relatively simple to pull off without him. Thus, the party has collected their first ally in this campaign.

I didn't have the privilege to play Council of Thieves, so I only have a passing knowledge of Gonville Chard, but I'm resolving to make him a pleasantly bitter stick in the mud of a Hellknight, more than willing to say "to Hell with it" at this point and help the party out, despite them being a group of very obvious psychopaths. So far, I'm having fun with it. I haven't even mentioned the names he (aka, I) gave to the golems.

Also, while I acknowledge that the book says the golems won't willingly leave the area they're charged with protecting, it seemed a waste to just leave them there, especially when we had a party member with the carrying capacity to bring them along. No, I think I'll make better use of them as background NPCs for some shenanigans...


24/01/26 & 24/02/02 - Session 67 & 68 - A Broken Siege
Starday, 19th Kuthona, Citadel Rivad, Longmarch

Prior to embarking on my quest, my experience with the Hellknights was that of a distant admirer of their philosophy. Their commitment to preserving Justice and Order against the unending tides of chaos and heresy is an ideal I’ve always held in high regard. That is to say nothing of my appreciation for the Godclaw’s keen understanding of the greater religious realities that form the Divine Order, a reality few others truly grasp.

It is, therefore, a true sign of my favour and the righteousness of our mission that we’ve found ourselves aiding no less than four of these Orders, two lesser and two greater. Our assistance to the Order of the Pike established the union between these noble hunters and my family’s holdings. Liberating the Order of the Glyph from their watch was instrumental in setting the groundwork for Cheliax’s glorious new future. Though lesser Orders, these contributions were still significant in their own right, and personally gratifying.

Our deeds in service to the greater Orders however, speak to the more fundamental pillars of our struggle against corruption. To retake Citadel Dinyar from the lost sheep was a pivotal step in restoring the proper hierarchy of the faiths, and in doing so purging the false narratives of the Reclamation heretics from the sacred lands of Cheliax. That blow effectively isolated these wayward souls to a single pocket, the city of Westcrown.

The wise choice for the heretics would have been to realise their falsehood and disperse, but in their deluded pride, they instead sought to try their hand at yet another citadel, this time Rivad. In my understanding of the Divine Order, I cannot help but see the symbolism here: if the restoration of the Godclaw represented a spiritual salvation, then the restoration of the Rack shall represent mental salvation. The Reclamation heretics, in all their delusion, must grasp with their minds the futility of their rebellion, and what better way to do that than to eradicate their standing army?

Our arrival in the outskirts of the citadel was marked with overcast skies, a perfect shroud for us to approach unseen and judge our adversary. Paraduke Kennari was gracious enough to supply us with a suitable magic abode to shelter us, while Mister Kezax undertook the valuable task of gathering intelligence on the sieging force.

Mister Kezax’s cunning infiltration is a feat very few could accomplish. The army clearly had some measure of discipline in its methods, and no doubt anticipated our appearance. To sneak in from a supply wagon, distract the sentries with a broken wheel, and then navigate each of the camps… Were it not for the sheer duration of the infiltration and the attentiveness of the more seasoned soldiers, Mister Kezax may well have sabotaged the entire camp by himself! However, to identify the specialities and supplies of each camp and to escape without drawing significant alert was more than impressive enough. It gave us ample information with which to make our next move.

Given the placement of the camps, we chose the deployment location for the tathlum carefully. Our sacred weapon would strike at the heart of the most seasoned and crucial support troops, leaving only the remnants of the inexperienced soldiers and devil hunters to reckon with the aftermath. Given their lack of anti-air defences, the actual deployment could be left to Miss Arcatraz with little concern.

The detonation was a sight to behold! To witness the righteous fury invoked by our ritual unleashed… Never before have I seen such immense concentrated power! Were one not aware of the true source, it would be easy to assume it a smite from the gods themselves. In some capacity, that is not far from the truth, as few can claim to be so closely representative of the Divine Order’s will on this plane. Nevertheless, the bulk of the forces were instantly cleansed. Given the specific blessings bestowed upon the device, I have confidence that their souls have seen sent to Hell for proper rehabilitation. An expedient solution, to be sure! As for the remainder, the spirits of divine retribution that emerged from the tathlum’s fallout made short work assimilating them. Although I recognised these creatures to not be inherently Orderly by nature, the tathlum’s Infernal energies no doubt ensured that these manifestations served the Divine Order in their own right. Thus, they could be safely left to their own devices.

This suited us well, for as the body of the lost lamb lay shorn and butchered, the rest of us attended to the head, that being the command tent perched a distance away from the fighting force.

These leaders of heresy had the foresight to prepare for our arrival upon witnessing the tathlum’s brilliance, but they could not in their foolishness anticipate our strength. Miss Archie’s acid interrupted their dwarven rider, while Mister Kezax severed and stripped the celestial protections of the commander’s sworn shield archon. This granted Father Dexsius the means to attempt something rather ambitious: he would steal the heart of the archon, and use this theft and his most powerful scroll to pledge the creature to Asmodeus. I’ve heard of a similar act once before, in a rather infamous event during the Fifth Mendevian Crusade. In truth, even I did not expect such a thing to be possible by mortal hands, but a soul blessed by the pinnacle representative of the Divine Order and infused with the very fabric of the Infernal can hardly be considered a typical mortal.

So it was that the archon Othiel ascended to a higher being, dedicated to the Divine Order in a manner his fragile soul could never accomplish before. Such a marvellous gift! The other leaders were not so fortunate. The dwarven knight would ride his last in a futile attempt at a charge, and Miss Archie would pluck the commander from the battle entirely, a prisoner for us to interrogate at a later time. The remaining soldiers fell in short order, unable to do more than lash out in desperation at Father Dexsius. Of the three that remained after this folly, two saw the error of their ways and surrendered themselves, while one last fool clung to his delusions. Paraduke Kennari’s summoned erinyes saw to the two seeking salvation, while he personally obliterated the last.

Thus, in one night, we have eliminated all but the final grasping remnants of the Reclamation heresy. We need but complete the ritual to dedicate Westcrown to its true masters and remove the last remaining fragments of pestilence, and then finally, Cheliax may heal in earnest.

But first, we should pay a visit to the Citadel…

GM's Notes: Was it a bit bold for our cleric to request to do "that thing from book 5 of Wrath of the Righteous" to a shield archon? Yes. But, I told him it would take a scroll of Miracle to do it, and sure enough, he was willing to pay that price, so I figured what the Hell. It's book 6, after all.

We had a bit of a pause there because of an industry event (if you know my professional background, you can probably guess), followed by me being very sick for two weeks. But this Friday, we should be able to resume the campaign, and with it, the subjugation of Westcrown will begin...


24/03/06 - 33 - Cutting One’s Teeth with Cultist Culling
Seventhday, 27th Arodus, 322 AG, Vanguard Station, The Drift

While Soryn returned to the docking port to fend off any unwelcome guests, the rest of us prepared for our confrontation with the apparent leader of the Devourer cultists. There was something quite ominous about Long Teeth waiting for us in the cockpit of the Omega-Zed. As their leader, I might have expected that he would fight alongside his minions, or at least let his presence be known to them during the fight. Instead, our group hadn’t seen nor heard him since he first escorted Soryn to Rasiel. By Soryn’s account, they had fought and in the process Long Teeth did sustain some wounds, so presumably he took refuge to recover and perhaps bolster himself. If that was the case, then there was no telling what might emerge when we opened the doors. Those were the thoughts filling my head as we prepared for the engagement.

In a sense, I suppose some of that concern was warranted. The brutish cultist leader was anything but “weakened”, so whatever damage Soryn did must have been repaired in the interim. The mystic accompanying him was the likely culprit of that particular development.

Meved probably came to the same conclusion. His opening gambit was to charge directly forward, largely ignoring Long Teeth (who sidestepped the charge) to crash directly into the healer. Vinu similarly positioned herself to go after the lone subordinate. Tactically speaking, it was a sound move. If the mystic was anything like Yaro, their presence could render the fight into a battle of attrition, and Long Teeth was obviously strong enough for that to be a highly undesirable prospect.

Still, I was a little less enthused by the fact that this left Long Teeth in between Meved and the rest of us. That sentiment was further compounded when Long Teeth made his way even closer to Yaro, Tibbers, and I, rather than engaging with the rampaging ursine. By my scanner’s assessment, Long Teeth had hill giant ancestry, which explained his immense stature and apparent propensity for hurling miscellaneous objects as a combat tactic. I also musn’t neglect to mention his kishaxe, a weapon that could best be described as an amalgamation of metallic slabs formed roughly into an axe shape. Despite it’s crude construction, such a weapon, especially in the hands of someone with Long Teeth’s specifications, was sure to be extremely deadly, especially to someone as lacking in defensive measures as I. In summary, being face to face with Long Teeth is how I imagine many of the cultists might have felt when face to face with Meved.

Fortunately, I still had enough magic left in me to beat a hasty retreat, and to hit him with a dose of acid. I tried interfering with his combat comprehension for his weapon of choice, but that ultimately proved ineffective. My neural algorithms likely aren’t well attuned to handle such an uncommon specimen. Giant heritage aside, Long Teeth hardly seemed neurotypical. Then again, in a universe as absurd as this one, I find myself less and less certain that “neurotypical” could even be considered a valid concept anymore.

After some hasty repositioning, the rest of the fight followed a relatively simple formula: Meved and Long Teeth took turns beating each other senseless, while the rest of us offered whatever additional firepower or support we could. Soryn meanwhile managed to ensure that this fight would only consist of us and the cultist leader.

[Editor’s Note: For anyone wondering what happened to the other mystic after I said that Meved crashed into them, I invite you to use your imagination. By this point, I’ve written more than enough about the bear’s battle tactics for the outcome to be very easily deduced.]

Our additional numbers would ultimately be a deciding factor in the equation. Long Teeth was incredibly strong, and his determination allowed him to even get a few unlikely strikes through Meved’s armour, but without any support, he wouldn’t be able to take on all of us working together. In keeping with that theme, the final blow actually came from Vinu, who (with a bit of guidance from yours truly), managed to lodge her kukri into a vulnerability in Long Teeth’s armour. The giant was so focused on the ursine in front of him that he completely neglected the feline at his rear. The lesson is one I’ve learned from experience: Vinu, if left unattended, can be quite dangerous.

In the end, our only casualty of the fight was the robot Tibbers hacked earlier, which at one point was thrown at Yaro in irritation for his restoration techniques. Yaro actually provoked Long Teeth a couple times, mostly through his religious affiliations. I suppose that isn’t much of a surprise; I doubt that a deity of black holes and destruction would have much affection for one of the sun and healing. That said, I believe Yaro also did provoke Long Teeth on more than one occasion with the intention of deterring our foe from going after me. Admittedly, I was not exactly making concerted efforts to dissuade the cultist’s aggressions, but I wasn’t exactly inviting myself to be targeted either. In that sense, we were fortunate that Long Teeth wasn’t more accurate with his strikes, and was mostly distracted by Meved’s presence.

The situation begged the question of whether my presence on the battlefield might hamper Yaro’s focus. Self-sacrifice has been in his nature as long as I’ve known him (it is one of the things I deeply admire about him), but I feared that our relationship might be heightening his protective instinct, and if left unchecked, it could have terrible repercussions. As our medic, it is arguably more important that he remain out of the line of fire. Should anything happen to any of us, it’s him we would be counting on the most. Not to mention, I have a strong personal bias to not wish to see him come to harm, especially for my sake…

But that discussion could wait for after the mission. We still had a job to finish.

A short conversation with the Omega-Zed’s… Interesting VI “Victor”, and a brief check-up on the comms, we determined a few key pieces of information. The first was that there were likely no other prisoners aboard Vanguard Station. The second was that Murkk had managed to find herself in the station’s engine core. Given these details, we came up with a plan.

First, we would leave Tibbers, Soryn, and Rasiel on the Omega-Zed and find a way to decouple it. The ship was in fine enough condition to be flown, and using it would save us from having to transport the injured Rasiel back to the Everdawn.

Next, we would rendezvous with Murkk and see about rigging the station to explode. As much as I abhor destroying a historically significant relic, after everything the cultists have done, it’s likely no longer worth the effort of salvaging. This way, we could at least guarantee that the Cult of the Devourer wouldn’t be able to use it for further operations.

Finally, we would return to the Everdawn and both vessels would make their way to Bulwark.

Then, just maybe, we could get ourselves some much needed rest before returning to the looming matter of the necrobots…

Player's Notes: Bit of a hiatus there, but this one was largely my doing. I was on a rather significant business trip/vacation (if you know who I am, then you likely know what I'm talking about). Anyway, we're back in the action, and moving quite close to the grand conclusion of this epic sidequest.

I do wonder if this rush strat of ours will lend itself to us getting a good amount of loot from this mission. The completionist in me is hesitant to get through this without checking each and every room of the station thoroughly, but in character that seems a tough thing to justify... I guess we'll see how it plays out.


24/01/23 - 32 - Better Safe Than Soryn
Seventhday, 27th Arodus, 322 AG, Vanguard Station, The Drift

Our group is no stranger to carnage and corpse piles. Several of my self-evaluations touch on this fact, to the point that a sizeable portion of these journals are simply a documentation of my gradual desensitisation to extreme violence. This process started involuntarily of course, but has been steadily more self-inflicted as time has gone on. Prior to boarding Vanguard Station, I even exposed myself to compilations of Devourer cultist footage, with the specific intent of preparing myself mentally for whatever gruesome sights we might see. I was beginning to think that nothing could shock me anymore.

In that respect, I am thankful to be mistaken. That being said, I think the bulk of my surprise had more to do with the nature of the carnage than the gore itself.

As a Devourer cult vessel, I imagined the Omega-Zed might have an assortment of macabre ritualistic ornamentation. Something to suggest their parasocial devotion to their deity of choice. Well, upon our arrival, we did find a sizeable number of deceased organisms… That is to say, dead cultists. Without getting into too many details, I suppose I can summarise my thoughts retroactively as follows: Soryn may very well be a more vicious warrior than Meved. Anyone who has followed my transcriptions should realise the severity of that statement.

Given the Vice Admiral’s track record, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve seen him in action before, so it’s not as though his combat prowess was unknown to us. That skill is the entire reason we sent him alone in the first place. However, it’s another thing to see the aftermath of his battle. It’s not as though it was all that much compared to what our group has seen or even done in the past, but most of the time that was caused by a group of several individuals performing a coordinated assault. This was a single person. Just one very angry, very determined lashunta. I have to think that even my sister would have been impressed.

Of course, we couldn’t afford to spend much time in awe of Soryn’s martial skill. Despite his progress, he didn’t wipe out all of the cultists in the Omega-Zed, so we still had work to do.

The mezzanine we occupied was blocked by several cultists of varying skills. Meved knocked one off to the floor below simply by entering the room, then he and the rest of us focused our energies on the others up there with us. The positioning was not ideal, as it left us exposed to a few flanks from the rear. Tibbers and Yaro took the brunt of these surprise attacks. Fortunately, the cultists were not nearly as threatening as the necrobots, and we had weakened the forward force enough by then to allow us to fend these ambushes off.

I’ve seen Yaro using his disintegrator cannon to rather great effect previously, so it came as no surprise when it swiftly incapacitated several of the cultists, but what I hadn’t seen before was the weapon Meved brought out. The rifle had an organic structure, but clearly influenced by the nanobots that I’ve observed as part of Meved’s mutations. It emitted an electric blast that absolutely devastated everything it came across. The potency reminded me quite a bit of necrobot weapon design. I was aware that Meved was doing some tinkering on his own time, but to think this was the result… I immediately noted that I would ask him about the weapon when we next found ourselves with some free time. Until then, I opted to remain a healthy mix of impressed and terrified, which seems to have been the theme of this fight.

While Yaro, Meved, and Tibbers finished up the combat on the mezzanine, Vinu and I made our way to regroup with Soryn on the floor below. Vinu naturally made it first, swiftly enough to offer some assistance to our Vanguard commander, though if I’m being perfectly honest, even then it hardly seemed like he needed it. I barely made it to the bottom of the staircase before he finished off the last of the remaining cultists on the floor. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious that he had in fact taken a beating, just enough to have sustained some minor wounds. Fortunately, it was nothing our resident medic couldn’t fix.

What was considerably more dire was the state of the celestial being with him. The angel Rasiel (whose name was omitted from these logs until now for reasons I won’t get into) was, in no uncertain terms, in very poor condition. A more thorough examination would be needed in the medbay for a proper diagnosis, but at a glance I could tell that he had several broken bones, deep lacerations, likely infections, planar disjunction… To say nothing of the amputated wings. I would be lying if I said the sight didn’t stir a certain primal rage at the cultists in that moment for committing such an atrocity to a living being. I can only imagine what Soryn, who we all know to have an exceptionally strong sense of justice, might have thought when he first found our rescue target… I imagine the answer to that lies somewhere in the mounds of cultist and demon bodies strewn about.

Whatever righteous indignation Soryn still felt, we soon had the opportunity to see first hand. Rather surprisingly, our male companions managed to finish the fight upstairs by convincing the last couple of cultists to surrender. Not that I am ever one to doubt Yaro’s devotion to Sarenrae’s principles, but I wouldn’t have expected followers of the Devourer to ever consider the notion. If they could be reasoned out of fighting, perhaps there was hope for them yet. However, that didn’t change the fact that they willingly participated in the crimes committed by the cult, and by the rule of law deserved to pay for those crimes. By the Steward code, the punishment under such circumstances is immediate execution.

I’ve rarely seen Yaro and Soryn so tense. As a psychologist, I recognised it as the very logical conflict between to ideologies encountering a fundamental impasse. As a friend and companion though, it left a very uneasy pit in my stomach. As much as I adore Yaro, he can have difficulty expressing himself when emotionally charged, and Soryn had just experienced more than enough of an ordeal to explain an unwillingness to entertain mercy. When it seemed like Yaro’s attempts at negotiation were going poorly, I tried to appeal to Soryn’s sense of pragmatism. Living cultists could perhaps be of use to us by providing information and accounts to prevent future cultist activity. That seemed enough to stay his hand, at least for the time being. Our new prisoners, Paul and Karl, were placed into one of the containment cells while we attended to our last major obstacle: Long Teeth.

Well, there was one other problem that also needed resolving. Riddle and Madeci lost track of Murkk. At least the goblin was still responding on comms, but without knowing her actual location, that was a whole other variable to worry about…

Player Notes: Pretty simple fight all things considered. Not a whole lot to say, other than we'll be building up to the end of this mission pretty soon I think. No idea how tough Long Teeth will be, but it'll be nice to fight something organic again.


24/01/19 - Session 66 - The Crown’s Contingency
Fireday, 18th Kuthona, Egorian, The Heartlands
Participants: Queen Abrogail II

Though we do not acknowledge it openly, we find ourselves in a dire predicament. One that requires measures we have thus far avoided, but that can no longer be neglected.

In but a few short months, enemies and incompetent fools have repeatedly tried our patience. Dissident zealots have ravaged our nation over a paltry magic blade, an unpleasant relation bungled his exile so extraordinarily that it cost us an entire Archduchy, and those sycophants of the Church of Asmodeus openly attempted to subvert our authority. Alone, each of these problems could be addressed with little cause for concern. For them to all happen simultaneously is either misfortune of the highest order, or a conspiracy so grand that it surpasses the means of even our greatest competitors. We suspect that our Infernal benefactors have a hand in these machinations, but this, we cannot prove. Naturally, our own aides remain stoic when presented with the notion.

Though we find ourselves inconvenienced, we are nevertheless far from incapable of addressing the issue. The loss of Ravounel by means of the Kintargo Contract was disappointing to say the least, but it did present an intriguing opportunity. The contract defines a manner in which an individual can secure a stronghold which cannot be infringed upon by anyone that wishes to continue to receive the support of Hell. This impedes us as a nation, as we cannot directly interfere with Ravounel without nullifying our Infernal Contract. For us personally however, it can serve as a template for a similar contingency. As our great-grandmother once secured herself a backdoor to escape, should she find herself betrayed, we might do so ourselves. The difference is that we can iterate and improve upon our ancestor’s legacy. It would not be the first time that we have done so. Abrogail I damned herself and her family, but we damned the nation. The Kintargo Contract is flawed, in that it offers little means for the exiled in question to retake Cheliax thereafter. We will ensure that if the time comes, such a feat is not only possible, but assured.

Conveniently, the Glorious Reclamation insurrectionists provided us with the second ingredient for this project. When we offered the soul of Cheliax to Lord Asmodeus, our definition was very carefully worded. Key technicalities ensured that Westcrown would be permitted a certain degree of freedom from Infernal influence. At the time, this was owing to limitations relating to its dedication to Aroden. Though deceased, the god and his successor held enough sway to make Westcrown’s damnation a challenging prospect. We were content to let the city rot in obscurity until such a time that we could find a purpose for it. Unbeknownst to the Reclamation, they gave us just that. Their seizure of the territory within Cheliax’s borders broke the tenuous balance of power over that forsaken city, giving us legitimate means to seize and reconsecrate it. The documents we had Temoni retrieve confirmed as much.

When we called upon the contract devil Odexidie, the very same architect of great-grandmother’s gambit, he seemed amused, but not surprised, by our proposal. Evidently Hell recognised the situation just as we had. Even more interesting was the intercession of a third party, an apostate devil named Vipostix. We recognised this to be the one to which Dominus Fex was bound. His offer of support was well worth the comparatively meagre cost he requested. We would have little use for the upstart Cansellarion or the Iomedaean artefact.

In accordance with our agreement, the drafting of the Westcrown Contract will commence, and will be completed pending a few key tasks.

First, the siege on Citadel Rivad would be lifted. This is not a stipulation of the contract, but rather a tactical choice to simplify future tasks. Our informants confirmed that the crusaders foolishly dedicated the bulk their military strength to this endeavour, meaning a well placed strike would devastate our enemy’s numbers while indebting the Hellknights of the Rack to us. The tathlum our agents have recently procured for us will serve as a useful tool for this purpose.

Second, our agents will perform the necessary rituals to rededicate Westcrown to Asmodeus, setting the groundwork for the contract’s stipulations, and guaranteeing the city a steady influx of Infernal forces to support its seizure in our name.

Third, eliminate the Glorious Reclamation, and secure Heart’s Edge and Alexeara Cansellarion, living soul and mind intact. Once secured, the weapon and woman may be left in the care of Dominus Fex, as Vipostix’s intermediary. May whatever horrors they inflict upon her reflect the punishment she deserves at our hand for the trouble she has caused.

Once these tasks are complete, we shall see to it that Westcrown’s power structure is rebuilt in accordance with our needs, and populated by those we know to be trustworthy. To that end, we shall begin with the bound agents we have sent to complete these labours.

When we sent Paraduke Temoni Kennari to assist our agents at Citadel Dinyar, we thought little of it. That choice has returned dividends, as he is a better field agent than anticipated. He has served our family diligently since the time of my great-grandmother, and we believe him to hold a long standing unrequited love for her. We suspect that same feeling has extended to us, as he sometimes fails to recognise the difference between ancestor and descendant. That sentimentality blinds him at times, but does ensure that his loyalty is unimpeachable. Despite his attachment, his judgement is sound and his skills ample, and we will not deny a certain comfort in the familiarity. We need merely recognise him for his worth, and he shall do what we require.

Archpriest Dexsius Oscellus, by Temoni’s account, is a capable and ambitious priest. We know from his records within the Church of Asmodeus that he has often been denied positions of higher power, owing in no small part to his Infernal taint. His actions to denounce Luthon Malix in our court, in direct defiance of the Grand High Priestess, suggest that he may well be a useful means to redefine the Church of Asmodeus. The religious authority of Egorian has long used Westcrown to exile its undesirables. Let our city then become the training ground for a new, more amenable clergy. If Dexsius can recognise the opportunity, then perhaps he is worthy of our patronage.

We did not think it worth our time to consider Ser Quintus Tanessen, but recent events in Ravounel have reframed his potential. The Tanessens are not only a Ravounese family, but one of the houses capable of ratifying a Lord-Mayor in Kintargo. As such, he may yet hold a key to reclaiming our rebel Archduchy. At the very least, he might allow us to subvert the Kintargan branch. Presently, the boy is clearly inept at courtly matters, but with Temoni’s instruction, he may yet prove a useful asset. The boldness with which the boy made the request to retain his noble title, awkward as it was, showed some promise at least.

Having now met with the voice of his “Divine Order”, Archbaron Dominus Fex’s nature has become abundantly clear to us. We commend Vipostix for his work; we have not encountered a mind so thoroughly twisted in its fundamental understanding of the world. Temoni asserted that Dominus views me as the rightful claimant to the mandate of Hell on Golarion, which assures his complete loyalty, contingent on us not losing that mandate. We recognise therefore that he is to be treated, first and foremost, as an agent of Vipostix. For now, that is sufficient to make use of him, but it remains to be seen if that is an alliance that can endure. We shall take precautionary measures nonetheless, though in truth the puppet is little more than a psychotic brute masquerading as a sophisticate. He is easy to subvert when one understands this. His patron is the far greater threat.

This leaves the last and greatest variable among our bound agents. Arcatraz, daughter of Athervox, and her entourage are an unexpected ally. Naturally, our nation’s previous conflicts with her mother and grandfather lead us to be sceptical of her intentions, and her irreverence makes clear that she does not view her role as subservient. However, she has shown no trace of deceit, save her modifications to the tathlum ritual, which she disclosed and which ultimately served our ends as well as hers. During our briefing of the Westcrown mission, she spoke of spoils. We doubt that greed is her sole motivation, so we have tasked Temoni with investigating further.

The dragon alone is a threat, but her entourage of kobolds are themselves not insignificant. The one they call Kezax is not one to draw attention to himself, quite the contrary in fact, but his cunning and skill were made evident on more than one occasion, as were Zylstra’s. Our understanding is that these agents are unwavering in their support of their mistress, so subverting their loyalty is unlikely. They will need to be accounted for, should the need for action arise. We shall also require our espionage countermeasures to be significantly bolstered. To have our private conversation eavesdropped upon within a secured chamber is simply unacceptable.

While perhaps not ideal in their specifications, these agents have proven on multiple occasions their value to us, and their pledges mean that direct opposition to us is all but impossible. We’ve already gone to great lengths to ensure Temoni’s loyalty. As for the others, we expect that the Paraduke’s guidance and the boons we can offer them will be sufficient.

If not, then so be it. Finding suitable replacements would be tedious, but far from impossible.

24/01/19 - Session 66 - Claims of Caina
Fireday, 18th Kuthona, Caina, Hell
Participants: Vipostix

Mortals are such pitiful creatures. They always seem so sure that they are in control of their own destinies, that their choices are their own. They rarely even stop to consider all of the pieces at play, all the little nudges and influences that truly shift the world one way or another. They are incapable of understanding that they are all pawns, from the lowest peasant to the grandest empress.

In fact, the higher one thinks themselves on the ladder, the more amusing it is when the reality of their fragile little lives comes crashing down.

In spite of his arrogance, or rather, because of it, Vice Barrister Odexidie was an ideal engineer for the chastisement of House Thrune. The impetuous phistophilus has been looking for an excuse to expose his work on the Kintargo Contract for a century. Barzillai’s ridiculous ambitions offered him the perfect opportunity to do so. How inconvenient that this subversion would come at a time when Cheliax was embroiled in another rebellion, and would be unable to respond appropriately. For so many things to happen at a time when Abrogail thought herself at the height of her power… When she thought herself above even Hell itself.

For their kind to think this a coincidence is proof of their utter foolishness. Infernals do not deal in chance. Only the certainty that comes with the predictability of the ignorant. In this, even a Queen is no different than a pauper.

Our design was elegant. A small group of outcasts and deviants, born of Cheliax’s rotting bosom, but shunned by the establishments they cling to. We gave these outcasts gifts, the talents they would need to seize power for themselves, but linked these gifts to service they will not and cannot object to. A little nudge here. A whisper there… The right words in the wrong place. These are all the ingredients needed to create people who will alter the world to suit our needs, be it the “heroes” that will save Cheliax, or the overstepping officials that will fragment it.

Some of you less versed in our mechanisms may be confused by our intentions. I do not begrudge your limited minds. For you, I will keep it simple. It is not our wish for our favoured nation to fall. Rather, we must remind the mortals of their place in our arrangement. House Thrune and the Church have grown so bloated with self-importance that they have forgotten who they serve and where their value lies. Their pride grew excessive, even for our purposes, and so they needed a dose of humility. Barzillai Thrune, Darellus Fex, and Luthon Malix were weeds that grew from such an environment, where arrogance leads one to believe a mortal can know better than us our designs. These were weeds that we cultivated, until they could not be ignored. When faced with a clear and present danger, House Thrune thought themselves capable of trusting such weeds to aid them, as though they were immune to the follies of mortal ambition. In this, they have received an awakening.

This is merely the first step, however. Aware of the problem, our vassals must then be reeducated. They must know where to put their trust. This is when an opportunity must present itself. A solution not previously known, with proof of its success. If Abrogail the First could secure a pocket of safety from those that would stab her in the back, why not the Second? All it would take is the cost of a city.

Westcrown has eluded us for far longer than I care for. I’ve made much of my career on the systematic seizure and corruption of the Inheritor’s “gifts”. The emergence of Heart’s Edge is what brought this conflict into my sphere of interest, after all. When it became known that the leader of the so called “Glorious Reclamation” supposedly receives the words of Iomedae in her ears, that the mortal pretender god would have the AUDACITY to use MY methods to craft a champion?! Cheliax’s bonds to us should make such an incursion impossible, in all save a few places. Those final bastions not yet under the full control of Hell.

The City of Twilight clings to Aroden like an orphaned child clings to a dead parent, unwilling to acknowledge that it seeks comfort in a corpse. It is pathetic, but that desperation does grant his herald some sway. Just enough for Heaven to engineer such a pitiful scheme against us. What they do not realise is that this has given us a wonderful opportunity. Our vassals, alone and desperate, will seize Westcrown, and rededicate this bastion of Man to something more tasteful. We grant our beneficiaries the privilege to give this to us, and in return, we will receive the mortal god’s favoured pawn as well as her blade. We gain a city, a chosen one, an artefact, and the deepened subservience of our vassal, while Heaven loses what little hold it had on our chosen territory.

To think, Abrogail believes it is her idea. Such is the folly of mortals.

GM's Notes: And so we begin book 6! In celebration of this achievement, I did a double entry, showing the perspectives of the party's two benefactors.

The Westcrown Contract is something I cooked up for my interpretation of this campaign. I wanted to give a bit more meaning to the plot to take Westcrown, and leave a bit of room to allow the party (who have already proven in previous books that they're a bit out there to comfortably settle in with the established Egorian court) to have more meaningful roles in the epilogue. I know that Dexsius is gunning for the title of Grand High Priest, but the books don't lend themselves well to that sort of project, so I figured I'd instead find a way to subvert it entirely. Why take over their church when you can build your own?

In any case, from that idea the rest of this kinda just spilled out. I liked the idea of Hell's Rebels (a campaign near and dear to my heart) having a greater impact on Hell's Vengeance, and the Kintargo Contract seemed a great way to build on that. It also gave me something for Abrogail II and Temoni to chat about.

Session 66 was maybe 50% Abrogail exposing her super secret plan to Temoni (and giving him a Robe of the Archmagi for his loyalty) while Kezax eavesdropped with his 50+ stealth and perception. 30% was Archie and the Queen having a sass battle and both of them kinda respecting each other for it. The last 20% was Quintus trying really hard to get acknowledged as the true head of House Tanessen in Cheliax, and then getting a terrible roll in his diplomacy check to ask the Queen about it.

Next time, the party is going to Citadel Rivad, and we resume combat shenanigans. It ought to be fun!

P.S. I feel compelled to point out that the first entry for Book 6 is entry 66. We could not have timed that better, heh.


24/01/16 - 31 - What a Thrill
Seventhday, 27th Arodus, 322 AG, Vanguard Station, The Drift

The last time I seriously experienced the phenomenon of meta-temporal displacement, our group was in the isolated reaches of the Outer Junkfields, having just fought a golem made of scrap. We were facing off against something powerful, hostile, and alien, while having little to no support to save us in the event that things went sour. It was easily one of the most frightening experiences I had experienced at that point in my life, which is an amusing notion in retrospect, but I digress.

By comparison, the bout of temporal displacement I experienced while descending the ladder of Vanguard Station’s corridor shaft was even more severe. Previously, I might have attributed this to stress factors like the ones I listed during the golem incident, but considering the fact that this would not even come close to the levels of stress we’ve experienced in other combat situations, I must conclude that something else was at play. It may have been indicative of my lack of concern that while descending I couldn’t help but think of the famously long ladder scene from that one well-established vidgame franchise the name of which is escaping me at this moment (not that I know much about vidgames myself, though I do try to keep abreast of popular cultural touchstones). [Editor’s Note: Look up the name of that vidgame to reference it correctly later]

[Editor’s Addendum] As has become distressingly routine of late, I also feel obliged to acknowledge that this situation was only less stressful by virtue of its comparison to other combat engagements we’ve found ourselves in over the last couple months. That is to say, the bar being so high that even being in a station teeming with Devourer cultists is tolerable is a problem in and of itself. Speaking in terms of psychological stability, we definitely should not be as acclimatised to this sort of thing as we are… [Editor’s Addendum End]

For most of our descent, the combat was occurring at the landing, near the access port to the Omega-Zed, which was the ship Soryn and our rescue target were currently bunkered in. Meved, Vinu, and Yaro preoccupied themselves with clearing the enemies away while Tibbers and I finished our much more cautious descents. I offered a bit of fire support from my elevated position and even took a few shots against the babau that had fallen previously. Turns out it was still alive, albeit weakened enough that even a shot from my Caustoject was enough to prompt it to flee the fight. As we would later find out, it choose to teleport to the medbay to restore itself, only to find Soryn there. Needless to say, the babau did not receive any medical care. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was promptly killed, in case that wasn’t clear.

Some of the cultists from the floors above continued attacking us, to varying degrees of success. The enthusiastic cultist with the poorly maintained gun from before dove from their floor and struck at Tibbers. It was a nasty hit, though it would be the only one that cultist would get; Meved saw to it that they landed directly onto his spear. Between the splash of Tibber’s blood spilling down directly onto me, or the sound of the cultist’s bowels being forcibly perforated, I’m still not entirely certain which was the more unpleasant experience…

That wasn’t the only enemy from that floor however. The technomancer and the cultist that shot me earlier were both still there and took some additional shots at Tibbers. I assume their focus on him simply had to do with him being the closest available target, which I must admit made me a little thankful that I opted to go down the ladder first. I almost certainly would not have handled all of those attacks nearly as well.

In fact, Tibbers managed to prove himself a very capable combattant. Despite his injuries, he pushed back the technomancer with a grenade, descended the ladder while returning fire, and hacked a turret (which, as his convention dictates, was swiftly dubbed “Vesper”) which he used to knock the remaining cultist down into a waiting Meved. For all his faults, combat prowess is not one of them. Having him at our flank was a big help.

That help was invaluable for me personally. Midway through the fight, a cultist mechanic decided they’d flee from the fight into the Omega-Zed. Vinu chased them, but they managed to seal the gate before she could reach them. It’s only because Tibbers was covering my rear that I could rush down and help unseal it. I’ll give the mechanic some credit, the security measures they set up on the door were quite competent. Anyone else might have had trouble getting it open as quickly as I did. [Editor’s Note: That statement may be a little bit conceited. Still, as our resident technical expert, it feels nice to acknowledge my skills sometimes. The others get plenty of recognition for their combat ability already.]

The mechanic was the last obstacle between us and our objective, and as soon as I got the door open, Vinu and Yaro solved that. Thankfully, we found both Soryn and the rescue target in the medical wing of the cultist ship. We were all together, safe for the time being, though we’d still need to get off the station.

Considering the cultists were now fully alerted to our presence, that may still prove a difficult endeavour…

Player's Notes: With this, we resume our Starfinder adventure, back in the middle of our fight with the cult of the Devourer. It was pretty much entirely a combat session and a decent amount of us trying to fiddle to remember how our characters worked (well, mostly me; Astrea's got a lot of mechanics). Still, it was a good time.
Now that we don't have to worry about getting to Soryn, we can focus on mounting a much more aggressive response to the cultists.

Oh, and maybe we'll figure out the name of this rescue target we've been looking for all this time. It's a little embarrassing that we all collectively forgot that detail (GM included)...


24/01/12 - Session 65 - Dragon’s Descent
Wealday, 16th Kuthona, Archive of Redacted Histories, Warlock Island

The creation of the tathlum would require certain resources we did not possess, but we ascertained that they could still be found in the last wing of the Archives we had not yet examined. My companions went forth to seek them out, while I chose to remain and see to it that the Hellknights of the Glyph were given a proper ceremony for the death of their order. It was decreed that they must be sacrificed for the greater Path, and they took to their end nobly. That at least was worthy of proper acknowledgement. I pray that their souls will be of further service to the Divine Order in death, as they were in life.

As I was later told, the others found the last wing of the archive to be populated by two “spellgorgers”, sentient floating orbs of congealed magical energy. These beings were debating the merits of preparing magical contingencies. An interesting discussion, to be sure. A contingency is, in essence, a preparation made for a potential outcome one may not foresee. Personally, I have little need for them, for I know that my path is guided by the Divine Order. At any given moment, Order has already determined what must happen.

That being said, what if a preparation is itself part of that plan? Perhaps then, a contingency is a representation of the gap in our awareness when compared to forces beyond us. The Divine Order is all-knowing, while lesser beings are not. Then, we could understand contingencies as blindly acting in accordance with the Divine Order’s will before we can see that will’s manifestation. This would make a contingency not an act of doubt, but rather, of trust. Of faith that an anticipatory action will eventually bear fruit.

I suspect Father Dexsius understands this, given his large collection of scrolls to anticipate any circumstance that might arise. This is why I was not surprised to hear that he used his magic to obliterate one of the oozes, specifically the one that argued against contingencies, while permitting the other to depart. There is value in purging those that do not see the value of trust. Those that sow doubt are corrupting influences, and an affront to the harmony of the Divine Order.

For their troubles, my companions were greeted with the last remnants of the Archive of Redacted Histories. The last wing contained some scholarly tomes of magic, as well as a few remaining records of Cheliax’s history that no longer served the purposes of Order. The Ashes of History we had accumulated were sufficient, so there was no need to destroy what remained. Paraduke Kennari opted to retain these for personal reasons. He is someone who had the privilege of witnessing first hand Cheliax’s ascension as a nation in service to the Divine Order, so his nostalgia for such records is understandable, albeit a little eccentric.

The ritual materials lay within a secret chamber that was easily found with Mister Kezax’s keen perception. In there they also found a font that bolstered memory. An interesting magical tool, but not one for which we had need. Perhaps it, along with the Archives, might be restored one day to serve a new purpose. I doubt Lord Geryon would see his gifts wasted.

Speaking of Lord Geryon’s gifts, the Archives held one more for us. According to Miss Arcatraz, a short ways from the main structure lay an ancient ritual circle, ideal for the creation of the tathlum. The site was somewhat damaged, but still very serviceable. An interesting feature was that a “watcher” could stand guard over the ritual to create a containment barrier of sorts. It was a helpful mechanism to prevent anything from escaping the ritual area. Much as I might have wished to participate in the ritual, I took on the role of observer to maintain the barrier, while Mister Kezax kept a closer guard where he might be more mobile. The others, each gifted with magical ability, conducted the ritual. In a sense, I played the part of a contingency. Amusing, given the earlier thoughts.

The tathlum ritual was long, but essentially simple. Between prolonged chants and incantations, each participant took a turn dipping the dragon’s skull into the Infernal quicklime solution, coating it in a new layer while imbuing their own will into the concoction. Each participant was to offer up something personal, a desire or strong destructive emotional force with which to bolster the effect.

Miss Zylstra was first. She invoked a desire to inflict pain and misery. I did not know her to be particularly sadistic by nature, though it came as no surprise. Her words rang true, and the solution was all the more vicious for it.

Next was Father Dexsius. Ever the devout Asmodean, he called upon the Lord of Hell, and infused his own divine magic into the ritual. The effect was potent, causing the solution to emanate the gloriously oppressive heat of the Pit.

After him was Paraduke Kennari. The words he spoke were subtle at first, though I was blessed with the awareness to decipher them. He spoke of General Gorthoklek of Her Infernal Majestrix’s service, imbuing the skull with hatred and resentment for him. To invoke the name of a Pit Fiend is no small thing, and the solution seemed to respond well to the ambition to outshine such a powerful being.

Ser Quintus spoke of his family in Kintargo. Regrettably, the city has fallen to misguided vermin, and to this day, the poor man remains unaware of what became of his kin. At best, they fell honourably in defence of their home, but even so, there has been no message of closure, only the frustration of uncertainty. This frustration now fuelled the tathlum.

The last stage of the ritual was left to Miss Arcatraz. Throughout the ritual, she conducted herself with great skill, as one might expect from a specialist in ritual magic. She contained the energies each participant offered to the tathlum with unmatched discipline and focus, but when she finally made her approach, her demeanour changed. She offered not only the skull, but also the young dragon Timaeus, to the magical concoction. That she would so readily use the child as a component of the ritual was unexpected, though upon reflection, made perfect sense. The creature was a gift offered miraculously by Lord Asmodeus himself through an Infernal ritual, so it was perfectly appropriate that to complete the cycle of his existence, he must be offered back through yet another ritual.

The result was wondrous to behold! In a reaction befitting a weapon of extraordinary power, the solution sent out a wave of energy so immense that even I, well distanced from the centre of the ritual, was struck by its pressure. Then, two very interesting events occurred. The first was that a phantasmal figure of the gold dragon Parnoneryx emerged. Had it not been for the barrier I was maintaining, it might have shot out to the very heavens! The second was that the small Timaeus, imbued with the blessed energies of the tathlum solution, was transformed into a full fledged Infernal dragon!

For the ritual to be complete, both dragons needed to be subdued. To that end, my companions acted swiftly. Miss Archie took on her dragon form and immediately set upon Parnoneryx above, while the others focused their attentions on Timaeus below. Each beast made for a fearsome challenge, but clever applications of debilitating magic kept them from unleashing their full potential. Mister Kezax’s bolt disrupted Timaeus’ Infernal energies quite effectively, whereas Ser Quintus anchored Parnoneryx’s spectral form so that its mobility would be further restricted, forcing him to contend with Miss Archie’s aggressions. Each member in turn did their part in weakening and tearing away at the dragons, with every strike taming the power that would give the tathlum its strength.

Ultimately, Timaeus would fall first, weakened significantly by Paraduke Kennari, Father Dexsius, and Ser Quintus. Mister Kezax would strike the final blow upon his former charge, a ritual infanticide on behalf of the young dragon’s mother. With the Infernal dragon suppressed, all turned their attention to Parnoneryx’s ghost. Each strike of magic and projectile lessened the spiritual being, but ultimately, it was Miss Archie that thrust herself upon the spirit. By dispersing the magical essences that formed the phantom, the energies could once more reform into the tathlum, the gold dragon’s glorious essence, once used to serve Lady Iomedae, would be given new life! Miss Archie was wise not to hold back against such strength. So great was her exertion that it sent her and the phantom plummeting to the swamplands below, near where Timaeus’ remains lay.

It had not been the first time I had seen Miss Archie consume a sapient being. I have long accepted that it is a facet of her nature to do so. Given her worship of Lord Geryon, it seemed as much a matter of spirituality as it was of convenience or personal taste. This time however… It was immediately clear that the consumption of her adoptive son bore a significance beyond that of familial sacrifice. In that moment, the Divine Order whispered the truth to me. The ritual Miss Archie conducted served a second purpose, not only to concentrate and redistribute power into the tathlum, but also to concentrate and redistribute power into herself. More accurately, it was to unlock a power that had always resided within her. One she has long sought, that I could always sense within her.

The spark of Divine Order within Arcatraz would finally be unshackled in that moment.

This power… Was beautiful to behold. Miss Arcatraz had always spoken in no uncertain terms of her draconic heritage, despite her humanoid appearance. Now at last, her true nature, not merely as a dragon, but as a draconid blessed by Infernal might, was on display for all to see. The strength and elegance of her apotheosis could not be a better representation of the Divine Order’s supreme grace, manifested in physical form.

Truly, it was an honour and privilege to witness such a grand evolution.

As for the tathlum, its creation was supremely successful. The weapon exudes glorious force that causes one to shudder with its mere existence. To look into the skull’s eyes is to glimpse into the righteous cleansing it will bring.

So strong was the ritual’s potency that even the residual energies of the quicklime solution still held power as a catalyst. Father Dexsius saw an opportunity to make use of the materials and placed a unicorn horn within. What emerged was an excellent conduit tool for life energy. Mister Kezax also thought to dip a crossbow bolt into the solution, a wise method of increasing the strength of his weapon.

In conclusion, the ritual had been a success befitting the Divine Order’s design, far grander than anything that those ignorant of such a mandate could fathom. We shall soon make our return to Egorian with news of our achievement. Then, perhaps, we shall be graced with the privilege of finally ending the infection that plagues our blessed lands…

Player's Notes: And so Hell's Vengeance returns in full. It's been so long since I've run a game, but taking the GM seat once again felt nice. I omitted one little detail in my entry where Temoni was nearly one-shot after Timaeus rolled no less that four crits in his full attack. It actually left me astounded for a couple minutes. Fortunately, the dragon was suffering from enough penalties that the effect was mitigated quite a bit.

As for Archie's apotheosis, I decided to finish the plot that the former GM had to have her undergo the fiendish apotheosis ritual, with a few of my own tweaks. Archie's story was always to unlock the true draconic power within her weak humanoid flesh, and I wanted to make sure she'd get a chance to enjoy the fruits of that pursuit. The Half Fiend template is definitely extremely strong, but I trust Archie's player not to abuse it (I'm running the last book as more of a narrative power fantasy experience anyway so balance is less of a concern). My goal is to give each PC a satisfying conclusion to their character arcs before the end of the AP. Archie achieving her new form was the first of those. The next should be coming very soon...


23/09/26 - 30 - Shots and Ladders
Seventhday, 27th Arodus, 322 AG, Vanguard Station, The Drift

When the one cultist managed to evade us and flee down the shaft, presumably to alert Long Teeth about our unsolicited embarkation, Meved was the first to take action. Perhaps the grunt thought the chute and his allies above buying him time would mean he’d be safe. Clearly, he underestimated both Meved's doggedness (pardon the expression Yaro) and climbing ability. To his credit, the cultist made an impressive attempt to escape his pursuer, but that didn't stop or resident ursine from doing his best impression of the fearsome "drop bears" of Akitonian myth. I’d almost feel sorry for the guy, if he weren’t a devout worshipper of one of the worst gods imaginable.

Figuring that this was our best opportunity to move forward and get to Soryn, the rest of us booked it for the ladder. I took the initiative, risking a hit from the nearby heavy. Fortunately, the breakaway shield Riddle gave me back when we first visited Akiton took the brunt of the hit. I’m thankful that after all this time, I didn’t forget about it! Doubly so considering I doubt I would have survived that manoeuvre otherwise. I’m an academic after all, not an acrobat.

Tibbers followed my lead, then Yaro, though both got a few more solid shots in on our pursuers before getting to me. All the better, I would think, since we’ll no doubt have to fight our way through them again on the way out of here. That just left Vinu on the top floor. I might have feared for her safety alone up there, but no sooner had the thought coalesced in my mind that she took out one last cultist above, then dropped down the shaft faster than even Meved. I suppose there is something to be said for the adage that pahtra always land on their feet, though I don’t imagine that expression expected the pahtra would be wearing a jetpack.

Those of us who didn’t have the foresight to acquire a dorsal aerial accelerator had to go about things the long way. I was unable to ascertain if this station had any elevators, but if this is truly the only means of ascending or descending, then I would have to question the architect’s reasoning. A single point of navigation is bound to cause bottlenecks and traffic jams. An example of just such an incident came to pass (in every sense of the term) when a door opened next to me while I was descending. The pair of cultists apparently took exception to my occupancy of the ladder, and attempted to remove me from the equation. I was lucky that the first one clearly had no regard for proper firearm maintenance and ended up with a blast of hot plasma to the chest for his troubles. If it weren’t for that, then the second cultist’s shot may have put me in a seriously compromised position, because that one definitely hit the mark. I didn’t get much of a chance to see what he shot me with, and by the time it reached me, I was in far too much pain to care.

Given my brand new bullet-induced injury, my desire to remain at my current elevation was at an all-time low, so I opted to make use of my glitch protocol to descend as quickly as possible. Not wanting to leave our trail completely open however, I set up a grease trap at the top of the ladder. Anyone hoping to come down after us would be in for a nasty surprise.

Speaking of nasty surprises, as soon as I made my way down, something appeared in my former position on the ladder, apparently eager to strike at Tibbers above. I recognised it as a babau, which for the sake of brevity I will define as a type of assassin demon. Something about seeing one of the creatures in person for the first time made me viscerally sick to my stomach, as though the creature was an affront to my very being. I suppose that given its designation in the greater planar ecology, that is technically accurate. Nevertheless, that particular feeling seemed more personal than was perhaps warranted. It’s yet another thing I’ll need to evaluate in the future.

Normally, the appearance of a demon would be a grave situation. However, for a second time this did not prove to be the case. Tibbers responded to the sudden appearance pretty much how one might expect, and kicked the babau several times in the face. As it turns out, a boot to the head is a remarkably effective way to dislodge a demon and send it plummeting to the floor below. All it took was the cost of the demon taking Tibbers’ boot with it. Furthermore, it would seem that falling demons lack the “drop bear” instincts that make a falling Meved rather deadly. Meved’s lethality meanwhile remains a universal constant regardless of whether he’s on the “dropping” or “dropped on” side of the equation. What I mean to say is that the babau’s ambush attack was a failure and it did not survive very long afterwards.

It’s at about this point that we finally received a transmission from Soryn. He’d managed to secure our rescue target and had locked himself in the cockpit to buy himself some time. It was obvious from the sound of his voice that he sustained some injuries. For all his combat experience, Soryn is still only a single lashunta, and this was an entire base of heavily armed murderous psychopaths who follow a deeply violent philosophy. We had our doubts sending him in on his own before, but in retrospect it really was a positively ludicrous plan. It was already well in motion though, so all we could do was get to him as quickly as possible. Soryn was the entire reason we could get that far, so the onus was on us to finish the job.

While most of us were still contending with the obstacle that was the ladder, Meved was having his own troubles at the bottom of the shaft. Several more heavy cultists had appeared and were wearing him down. For all of his strength and speed, ursine are not known to be persistence hunters, so their endurance has its limits. I feared that Meved was reaching his. I was definitely pushing mine already.

But that’s why we have Yaro.

I’d be lying if I said my partner’s dramatic leap down didn’t stir something in me. There was something almost angelic in him suddenly landing from above to protect his allies. Then again, some of my perception may have been coloured by the euphoria of his healing energies reaching me as well. The hits I had taken earlier almost certainly had an impact on my mental faculties by that point, after all. Even so, I will state for the record that his stunt was objectively very cool.

It was also very practical. The sudden wave of rejuvenating energies gave us all a second wind. Given everything we’d still have to face to get to Soryn, we would certainly need it.

Player's Notes: Been a hot minute, hasn't it? This was the entry for the last session we had before our GM lost their computer, but now that they're back up and running, our game should be resuming next week.

There's a slight reference in this entry to Astrea's uniquely strong aversion to demons. That has to do with the fact that Astrea has also been my character in Wrath of the Righteous twice. The first time the game went on perma-hiatus about midway through book 3, and more recently I brought her back to join a game (with a couple of the same players) that was on the tail end of book 3. Sadly, that one also went on perma hiatus just before the holidays, shortly after we arrived in Alushinyrra.

I had a journal for Wrath as well, but at a player's request I haven't shared that one publicly, which is a bit of a shame, since it would have shown a very different version of Astrea that contrasted amusingly with my Starfinder version. That Astrea is an aasimar Sarenite scholar that works in the libraries of High Ninshabur and had an academic interest in the mechanisms of redemption, particularly when it comes to redeeming evil outsiders. Naturally, she was extremely interested in Arueshalae, and travelled to the Worldwound with Sarenrae's blessing to provide support to the crusaders and record their achievements for Nirvana. There was a lot I wanted to explore there when it came to her philosophy and perspective as a being from the outer planes. But alas, it was not to be. Or maybe it will be; there's always a chance the game will come back. I can still hope...

Anyway, as far as Starfinder goes, barring some unexpected hiccup, the entries ought to resume their weekly schedule soon. :)


As you may have noticed, this campaign has been on hiatus for...A while.

Long story short, the GM was no longer in form to run it routinely, and despite his efforts to do so anyway, it ultimately became clear that it wasn't working. So with his blessing I've taken over as the GM to bring this story to its conclusion... And just as we were about to start up again one of our players lost their computer.

That issue has now been resolved, and we can resume once more. Since I'm taking more of a back seat as a GMPC, we also brought back Arcatraz to round out the team. This session was mainly a session 0, but I included the little bit of context for what Archie was up to while she was away.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the grand finale of this campaign, because I am determined to see this one to the end!

24/01/05 - Session 64 - Revelation and Return
Wealday, 16th Kuthona, Archive of Redacted Histories, Warlock Island

For too long, this tale lies dormant, awaiting its reawakening.
Consider this the wake-up call. Hell is waiting.

You are perhaps wondering who I am, and what has become of that lovable psychopath Dominus Fex? True, my dearest and most successful project is normally tasked with reciting the exploits of Cheliax’s reconquering through his magnificently twisted perspective. For now however, he is taking a well deserved rest, and I, his humble handler, will graciously take on the task. I go by Vipostix, Deimavigga Principale and Arch Adjudicator of Celestial Acquisitions, though just Vipostix is sufficient here. You needn't concern yourself with any further details. Just relax and enjoy the story.

When last we left them, the Queen’s chosen agents had felled the Cult of Geryon and the Order of the Glyph in order to burn the contents of the Archive of Redacted Histories. They did so in order to secure the “ashes of history”, a key ingredient in a rather potent weapon.

Incidentally if you're curious, no, Lord Geryon cares little for this transgression against his worshippers. The preservation of Cheliax’s long and convoluted historical revisionism is an interesting curio, but of little importance in the grand scheme of things. Ah pardon, in the “Divine Order”, I should say. I do confess to being rather proud of myself for that particular fabrication. What better way to pervert the teachings of Heaven than to integrate them into our grander design?

In any case, this left our heroes with the task of actually conducting the ritual to create the dreaded “Tathlum”. How fortunate it was then that upon emerging from their rest, they were greeted by the waiting form of one familiar to them: Atcatraz of the Whisperwood, daughter of Athervox, granddaughter of Gartheris the Wise.

It's been quite some time since her departure, so an explanation may be in order. You see, when Archie returned to the Whisperwood to return one of our flock, she was greeted with a vision. A simple image of her grandfather making a bargain with none other than Lord Geryon. To what end? Might it be that the discoveries of Triaxus and Apostae were not solely of his own doing, or perhaps it was to seek vengeance upon those that stole his naming rights? Is her bloodline’s pride built on academic greatness, or submission to an even higher being? Archie is free to ruminate and squirm on the subject. Can't have her being too comfortable, after all.

The more immediately pertinent detail however, was the price paid for this ambiguous service. Gartheris was given a “gift”. Something he had to keep within himself for safekeeping. In time, he passed it on to his firstborn daughter, and she in turn passed it on to Arcatraz, where it resides to this day. The nature of this thing is to obfuscate and destroy, as is Lord Geryon’s nature, and a part of the wards placed to contain it is to blame for Archie’s noticeable lack of draconic features. So long as she remains the unwitting vessel of Geryon’s gift, her true nature will be alien to her.

As you can imagine, little miss Archie did try to unravel the mystery of this gift. Unfortunately for her, it is not so easily grasped by those that have not embraced it of their own volition, so it is quite impossible for her to know unless The Serpent wills it. That being said, Archie is a very smart girl, and she tried ever so hard. It was a truly admirable effort, worthy of some reward. Thus, she was granted a small epiphany. For Archie to have found the worship of her Lord independently of his deal with her family was too convenient to be a coincidence. Therefore, it stood to reason that other “coincidences” may also be suspect. Why does her family reside so close to a gate to Hell? Why too is the region so rich in ley lines and why did she take such an interest in them? The Lord of the Fifth keeps many inscrutable secrets and has made many enemies, so perhaps there is a reason that he would leave something in the guardianship of powerful beings nestled in a place of planar and occult significance?

Naturally, she'll never uncover the real answer on her own, though it is ever so fun to watch a brilliant mind struggle against its own fundamental limitations, is it not?

But I digress. There remains the ever so critical question of what the dragon scion will do with this information. She could follow the family trend and cure herself of her frail prison of flesh by passing the gift on to the next member of her bloodline. Typically that would require finding a mate, but as fortune would have it, Archie was blessed with a suitable vessel quite recently in the form of young Timaeus, the infant dragon age found at the Winter Grove. The specimen is perfectly suited to take on the blessing, more so even than Archie. Ask me not why we went with the immaculate conception route. That particular mandate was outsourced to another department of Dis.

Surely, any reasonable soul would understand that Hell’s desire is that she pass her gift to this custom vessel, delivered by Lord Asmodeus himself, then that she nurture it into a being befitting of the power it holds…

But since when have we expected mortals to be reasonable?

Why should Arcatraz devote herself to the betterment (or damnation) of another, when she can take that power for herself? Can a dragon deny her own greed, even when it might obliterate her? As a ritualist, she knows that she now has the means to accept the gift earnestly. She need only deliver it into a fresh vessel, then consume it once more, this time of her own volition. Lord Geryon is ever so fond of devouring as a means of gaining power. Surely such an act would be to his liking.

To spare yourself in the name of damning another to greatness, or to seize that greatness for yourself, no matter its cost.

Decisions, decisions.

We will soon see the conclusions Miss Archie has reached, and some of their consequences. But first, she needs to hijack a certain ritual, and for that to happen the Agents of Thrune must secure the necessary materials. To that end, there is still one room of the Archive that has not been plundered…

Player's Notes: No major notes this time. I'm just excited to bring this campaign back from the dead. Seeing as I have a bit more insight now as the GM, I'll be able to play around a bit more with the character POVs as well. Dom will still appear, of course, but I've got plenty of other voices I can use now.


23/07/24 - Session 62 - Lingering Heresies
Toilday, 15th Kuthona, Archive of Redacted Histories, Warlock Island

The Archive of Redacted Histories has two guardians of note. The first is the Hellknight Order of the Glyph. While their existence was previously unknown to me, their purpose, philosophies, and methods do not differ significantly from that of their brethren. They serve to preserve Order and do so unerringly, even when this requires their sacrifice.

The second is the Cult of Geryon. They are a more complex group to measure. The Lord of the Fifth is indeed loyal to Lord Asmodeus, and by extension the Divine Order, but the services it provides are necessarily obscured. Their role in preserving the Empire’s forbidden records may seem a contradiction, as one might conclude that it would be better to erase these histories entirely lest they be used for nefarious ends. Under other circumstances, I might have thought as much myself.

It is fortunate then that the Path has made clear to me their True Purpose. This culmination of secrets, much like a delicate crop, has been tended to so that it might one day be cultivated for our ritual. The Archive is a farm from which the final ingredients of the Tathlum shall be harvested. This is the ultimate reason for the cult’s existence.

Following our encounter with the pair of asuras, we first investigated the western wing. There, we found a grand library, occupied by a few more worshippers of Geryon and a flying serpent. It is also here that we encountered the man we would come to learn was the grandmaster of the cult. The lessers did as was demanded of them and died for their cause, but the one known as the Master of Heresy was more elusive. Though he was brought close to his end, a magical contingency of some sort allowed his to escape from our grasp before we could end his service. I took this to mean that his task, and therefore ours as well, was not yet complete. It would not do to conclude his guardianship until he was no longer necessary. Father Dexius made use of his Infernal connections to validate this, as we were told with certainty that the Master did not flee the Archives entirely. Paraduke Kennari remained behind to scour the library for what he required and to purge what remained, while the rest of us proceeded to the other wing…

23/09/13 - Session 63 - Leaving a Mark
Toilday, 15th Kuthona, Archive of Redacted Histories, Warlock Island

I have often been asked why I hold the Hellknights in such high esteem, even those I find myself in direct conflict with. This has always struck me as something of a foolish question, but one should not waste an opportunity to educate the ignorant whenever possible. Quite simply, I admire their devotion to the principles of Order. Without explicitly allying themselves to persons or states or even a single god, the Hellknights display the purest form of loyalty, as it is to the Greatest Principle there is. They abide by the Dictums of the Divine Order in a manner that even the most devout cleric does not. I believe the fact that the Hellknights of the Godclaw most closely approach the true understanding of the universe’s Grand Design is a sign of the righteousness of their commitment.

That being said, this respect would never cause me to hesitate to combat a member of these noble orders. The Divine Order is a complex network of interconnected machinations, the final goal of which is beyond all but its highest of servitors. Sometimes, these machinations encounter each other, and conflict occurs. On the most surface of levels, this may seem self-defeating, but to think so is to ignore the grander schema. By the same logic, the creation of fire is destructive, but this too serves a purpose. Reactions sometimes require one thing to be sacrificed for something of greater value to be produced.

In the case of the Order of the Glyph, they were given the divine task of protecting the Archives of Redacted Histories from all intruders, whereas I was tasked with their destruction. Both of our missions were Supremely ordained, and if they enter into conflict, it is only because the result of this conflict will ultimately serve the Divine Order in some manner. It is not my place to question how, merely to carry out this process to the best of my ability.

It is for this reason I made no effort to dissuade the Order’s Lictor from fighting me, and instead challenged him directly. He was an admirable fighter, and even managed to land a couple blows upon me, an impressive feat given my considerable blessings. In honour of this, I did my best to ensure that his death would properly reflect his pledge. After all, what greater honour would it be for the Lictor of the Glyph to be made into a glyph himself? I pray that his blood’s markings seal themselves into the stone as proof of his eternal commitment. Though few will ever know his sacrifice, there may yet be power in such a demonstration of faith. Saints need not be the only ones to leave such legacies.

While I had focused my attentions on the Lictor, my companions had tended to the remaining Hellknights. Only the Master of Heresy remained, hidden from view and having sealed himself with me in the chamber, while the others were held without by way of a barrier of force. He did attempt to strike me with destructive magic on multiple occasions during my duel, but as is to be expected, I would not crack under such pressure. Instead, I kept the Master preoccupied long enough for Temoni to return and bring my allies to our side of the wall. There, Father Dexius removed the concealment, allowing Mister Kezax and Ser Quintus to finish the job. There is some poetic irony that they did so from concealment themselves. It seems appropriate that a man of secrets would be felled by hidden assassins.

Save its sacrificial guardians, the chamber’s sole element of note was a magical gateway to an opulent residence. In here, we found what may have been a collection of the most significant secrets of the Cheliaxian Royal House of Thrune.

Needless to say, we burned them all immediately without giving them a glance. Their secrets would remain eternal, and we would rest soundly.

Player's Notes: Remarkably, despite many delays and issues, this campaign lives yet. This was originally going to be one entry for two sessions, but I discovered that I could actually split it quite effectively, so I split them back up as they were played.

Honestly, I don't know what anyone was expecting, throwing a glorified fighter at a level 14 party. The Lictor could barely make a scratch on me, even when I spent an entire turn willingly making myself flat footed as I invited his strikes. Still, it made for a cool thematic end to the fight when Dom "turned him into a glyph" (that means he got crushed so brutally that his blood splatters made a pattern).

Anyway, if I'm not mistaken, we've got a couple more trivial fights left before we can actually conduct the Tathlum ritual and at long last conclude this book. I look forward to it!


23/09/05 - 29 - Entering and Breaking
Seventhday, 27th Arodus, 322 AG, Vanguard Station, The Drift

Of late, I’ve often found myself in situations where I would be anticipating imminent conflict. The Akitonian junk golem and the True Warrior assault on the Stellar Flare were perhaps my first experiences with that particular sensation, though the return to Khefak Depot while it was being attacked by necrobots was perhaps the most severe. It’s a certain type of anticipation not unlike what I felt while waiting to defend my thesis, but still altogether distinct. With time though, the nausea and general feeling of dread that accompanied it have noticeably diminished. As of yet, I am uncertain if this is the product of our prior experience or because of the particularly unpleasant nature of our enemies. I still very much abhor violence, but knowing of the cruelties practised and endorsed by followers of the Devourer, my conscience was less troubled at the thought of putting an end to their operations.

Even so, I consider my response a somewhat troubling shift in my empathic principles, and one I need to observe carefully. Moral justifications for violence can be a starting symptom for many misanthropic conditions, including the infamous psychological disorder commonly found in mercenaries and “adventurers” colloquially referred to as “murder-hoboism”. Incidentally, that term strikes me as a very derogatory way to refer to a serious psychological condition, though I suppose given how the symptoms typically manifest, I can understand the stigma surrounding those that suffer from it…

In any case, we didn’t have to wait too long before Yaro sensed a change in Soryn’s vitals that suggested he had entered combat. It was not the signal I was hoping we’d receive, but it was one we were prepared for. Our strike was swift and largely effective. Meved punched a hole through the enemy formation while the rest of us softened up the remaining footsoldiers and drones. Tibbers even managed to hack one of the drones, which proved rather helpful in evening the odds.

Vinu slipped ahead of us, being the nimble operative that she is, though when Meved tried to push up after her into the next room, he encountered tenacious resistance. Presumably the welcoming party didn’t consist of the station’s toughest defenders. Based on my readings, I believe there was even a creature of the abyssal genus present, but it was soundly crushed and shot into oblivion before I had a chance to study it. As much as I am committed to the pursuit of knowledge in all things, I am a bit glad I missed this opportunity. I cannot quite explain why, but the notion of encountering a demon is wholly unappealing to me in an unusually visceral manner.

One of the soldiers succeeded in fleeing combat and descended a nearby ladder, which based on the configuration of the ship I suspected led to the area where we would find Soryn and the captive archon. Yaro’s last check indicated that while Soryn was still very much alive, he was injured. I took that as a sign that we ought to push through to rendezvous with him as quickly as possible, even if it means leaving a few cultists to chase after us. Of course, the cult of the Devourer would object to that plan with all of their might…

Player's Notes: I decided to write a separate entry for the session after all. After the super long bonus entries, it was nice to have a kind of short one. The entire session ended up being combat which didn't go much further than two rooms. I fully realise on my side that game logic would dictate that we'd be better off killing all the cultists before we push on to the next area, but given that we know Soryn is injured, I had a hard time imagining our party wouldn't try to get to him first, even if it meant kiting a whole bunch of enemies with us. I guess we'll see how that turns out...

Oh, and as for the tongue in cheek comment about demons, I'll just say that I've played Astrea in Pathfinder twice. Both times, it's been in a Wrath of the Righteous campaign. Fair to say she's seen her fair share of demons...


23/08/29 - 28 - Into the Devourer’s Waiting Maw
Seventhday, 27th Arodus, 322 AG, Vanguard Station, The Drift

Respiratory congestion is one of those effects that is often underestimated until it is alleviated. I was reminded of that fact as we resumed our travels. Between the residual effects of Bulwark’s planar atmosphere and the vast propagation of medicinal fumes within the Everdawn, it took a few filtration cycles before I could fully appreciate my olfactory senses once more. Considering our destination and the nature of those we’d be facing however, I almost wondered if I’d have been better off not being able to smell.

The voyage to the coordinates Sondrya gave us was mostly uneventful. The members of the crew that remained on the ship enjoyed the abundance of food Yaro and I brought back from our visit to Bulwark, and I spent most of my time studying up on the cult of the Devourer and examining the celestial fusions we had been given. The properties of heavenly energy are fairly well documented, but hard to come by through conventional means. Looking at things I could easily cross-reference made for a pleasant change from necrobot tech. It was reassuring to know that despite everything, I still had some competence.

I suppose there was one event of note that transpired. Yaroslav came to speak with me, primarily to discuss concerns regarding the conflict that was to come. I initially mistook his concern as fear for my psychological wellbeing given my less than stellar prior record with instances of extreme violence. My instinct was to reassure Yaro that this concern would be unnecessary. My time with this group, though brief, has resulted in me rapidly developing adequate coping mechanisms to process such situations. It’s not exactly a skill I had any desire to develop (violence was always more my sister’s domain of expertise), but I did start this journey knowing I would have to brace myself for the unexpected. Besides, for all their brutality, the pathology of the Devourer cultists was less unnerving to me than other foes we’ve faced. I could write an entire thesis on the reasons for this, but it can be adequately summarised thusly: the psychology of a cultist is knowable, and relatively simplistic. I’d take meathead nihilists over an enigmatic hostile robot empire any day of the week.

That being said, Yaro’s actual concern was more deeply rooted in the risks that come with the unpredictability of the cult and the implications for our metaphysical souls should we fall prey to their ritualistic predations. Really more than anything, he was scared that he wouldn’t be able to protect us adequately. It was difficult for me to entirely refute that concern, given that the nature of our mission would necessarily involve risking our lives. Nevertheless, I did what I could to reassure him and promised that we would collectively be prudent. I wish I could do more to assuage his concerns, but without knowing exactly what we’d be up against, it would be disingenuous to offer any sort of definitive affirmations.

Instead, I took the opportunity to discuss a different topic. As it lies beyond the scope of relevant subjects for this journal (and I have come to learn that invading my personal privacy has recently become one of the Everdawn crew’s favourite pastimes), I will simply say that we affirmed our commitments with regards to our relationship, and determined that a long-term continuation was in our mutual interest. Nothing further need be said on the matter, so Vinu you can stop spying on my reports now. You won’t find any “juicy details”.

[Editor’s Note: Do not add any “juicy details” to these reports from here on out. I’m an adult woman, not a lust-fuelled teenager fawning over their first crush in their diary. I should know how to keep my reports and romantic life separate!]

[Also, do not UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES let ANYONE find out about my diary.]

The last stretch of our journey was spent strategising our approach. Rescuing the hostage was our top priority, which made a direct frontal assault a nonviable tactic. Given that the cult was resorting to ransom, we instead considered using this to our advantage. Our plan was to bluff that we were there to capitulate to the cultists’ demands, and use this to board their vessel and get in contact with the archon. From there, we could attempt to secure the hostage, eliminate the cultists, and return to Bulwark. It was far from an ideal plan, especially considering there was no telling how willing the cultists would be to agree to our conditions.

We would soon find out, as we approached the coordinates of the cultists. The ship that attacked Bulwark was designated “Omega-Zed”. We found this ship… Moored to a space station. Interestingly, it was identified as “Vanguard Station”, a well known Pact World stronghold that saw action during the Silent War, but vanished under mysterious circumstances during the conflict with the Swarm. Given its new aesthetic, I believe it is safe to say that in the time since it’s disappearance, it has become a hub for the cult of the Devourer in the Drift.

My scans of the station made it clear that our initial estimates of the cultist forces were well below the reality. Unless the cult of the Devourer was in possession of a particularly large supply of livestock or prisoners (which admittedly, albeit distressingly, was a distinct possibility), then we could be facing a force roughly 50 strong.

Before we could reconsider what we had gotten ourselves into, we were hailed by what we assumed to be the captain of the Omega-Zed, a rather fearsome looking individual titled “Long Teeth”. The label was as apt as it was unsettling. Cosmetic dentistry is hardly a novel concept, but even at a glance I could tell that this particular type of procedure would have been extremely impractical, and likely excruciating. It does leave one to wonder about the psychological disposition of someone who would undergo such a procedure.

As it turns out, Long Teeth did have an almost surprising measure of rationality for a follower of a nihilist deity. Less daunted than the rest of us to interact with the Devourer cultist, Meved took over negotiations. Ultimately, the cultists agreed to accept a single member of our crew aboard to visit the archon, though they explicitly demanded that the member in question not be “the bear”. I made some disparaging allusions to their bravery in the hopes that questioning their dedication to the eradication of all things would provoke them to be more reckless, but Long Teeth was remarkably steadfast. Ultimately, we accepted the offer. They further insisted that we dock at the upper levels of the station, as far as possible from the Omega-Zed. This was presumably to prevent a quick getaway. Despite our ploy ostensibly working, the cultists were more cagey than I anticipated.

That only one of us would be entering the heart of enemy territory left us with the difficult decision of whom to send. Collectively, we settled on Soryn. Barring perhaps Meved, none of us could handle themselves in combat as effectively as the Vice Admiral. He agreed. In fact, he almost seemed excited about it. Yaro suspected as much, and I know him to be sensitive to people’s emotional states. It may be pure speculation on my part, but perhaps for a veteran soldier like Soryn, the familiarity of a battlefield makes it a place of comfort for him.

Of course, we weren’t about to send Soryn in alone without some protections. Yaro established a psychic link so as to be sure of his condition at all times, and I provided a few contingency serums. We had considered sending Vinu or Twitch to follow after him, but given the density of the enemy forces, it seemed more of a risk than a boon. Instead, we decided that our primary combat squad (meaning Meved, Vinu, Tibbers, Yaro, and myself) would wait on standby to push in as soon as Soryn secured the hostage or some other incident occurred. As soon as one of those things happened, our mission would be to open a path for Soryn, rendezvous with him, and then bring the archon back to the Everdawn.

The rest of the crew would remain on the ship, ready to disengage if the cultists decided to go after it while we were busy elsewhere on the station. Murkk offered to help us by constructing something. The group was hesitant given the potential volatility of whatever she might make to help us, though admittedly I don’t think we’re giving her quite enough credit. As chaotic as Murkk’s process might be, she’s been consistently good about not causing any serious damage to us or the ship. Admittedly that’s at least partially due to my occasional interventions, but even then it’s never been for anything severe. I told her that she is welcome to come up with something to help that we might keep in reserve, in case the cultists have a trick that we aren’t ready to deal with. Perhaps a bit of chaos will be just the trump card we’ll need against such a chaotic foe. Still, hopefully we wouldn’t need it.

The station’s landing zone that we were directed to was a simple affair. Just a cargo bay with little in the way of features. What was more impressive was the force that we were met with. Long Teeth came with what was practically a small army of combat drones, armed cultists, mechanics, and heavily armoured warriors. As we watched Soryn be escorted, I took stock of the remainder of the soldiers. All of them displayed fairly basic physical conditioning and armaments that one might expect from combatants, but little more. That’s not to say that this wouldn’t be a problem, but it was a bit of a relief for my scanner not to pick up on any “unidentified nanobot activity” or “regenerative protocols” or “adaptive biomechanical tissue”. It was just a bunch of regular mortal flesh and bone fanatical religious soldiers.

As I write this, I am more than a little disconcerted that I find myself in a position where this would be a relief…

Player's Notes: I was a bit late finishing off this one. The last couple weeks have been a bit hectic. First I had the massive entry that is 27a to finish writing, then it was a major milestone in my career (If you know what Rainbow Six Siege is, the newest operator Ram was the first one I designed), then it was my birthday... So yeah, not a lot of free time to write game journals.

As of me writing this, we did already have another session wherein we started fighting the cultists. There's not quite enough to merit a journal yet, so I'm going to collect the notes and do a joint entry covering multiple sessions.

To make up for the delay, here's a doodle of Astrea and Yaro I did for funsies. It's not my best work (honestly I kinda suck at drawing animals), but I thought it came out kinda cute nonetheless.


23/08/15 - 27 - Helping Heaven
Fifthday, 25th Arodus, 322 AG, Bulwark, The Drift

Being a literal fragment of heaven, Bulwark’s atmospheric composition held certain unique properties. Conventionally, this is referred to as “planar alignment”, and it is most commonly associated with the Outer Planes. The phenomenon is sufficiently well documented to be generally understood, though only a few ever have the chance to experience it directly. The effect manifests a bit differently for each plane and each person based on their own moral attunements. For example, Yaro and myself felt a similar experience of mild congestion and stiffness upon entry into Heaven. Vinu appeared to experience a similar sensation, though with slightly more unease…

Meved and Tibbers meanwhile were the most severely affected, demonstrating notable discomfort once we entered the heavenly atmosphere. This was bad enough that they opted to remain aboard the Everdawn and spend our time docked “self-medicating”. As the ship’s scientist and the principle user of the synthesis laboratory, I cannot entirely condone its use for unsupervised recreational narcotics production, but as their doctor, I will admit that their choice of medicine is actually a reasonable one, given the circumstances. Either way, so long as they don’t resort to anything actually illicit and clean up after themselves, I’ll let this slide.

Vinu also remained, though I think this was more out of interest in partaking in their “meds” and a general disinterest in Bulwark’s “orderly” society. This reduced the away party to just Yaro and I, which was not entirely unwelcome. It made for a very memorable date location (though I’m not entirely certain if I’d qualify our brief expedition a date, per se).

We were met and escorted by a trumpet archon named Sondrya. She brought us through a portion of the settlement to an official administrative office, but on the journey did entertain several of my inquiries. I’ve compiled some of my more noteworthy learnings here:

  • - Bulwark was once a portion of the heavenly domain known as Threshold. The name of their settlement does indeed come from Arqueros, their former Lord.
  • - They do not know when exactly they were separated from Heaven or how, though they estimate that it transpired roughly 300 years ago. I strongly suspect that this could be attributed to the Gap.
  • - Bulwark has not had any contact with the rest of Heaven since entering the Drift.
  • - Though isolated, Bulwark’s technology is still quite modern, albeit perhaps lacking in cutting edge discoveries due to their limited capacity for regular trade.
  • - Militarily, Bulwark is fairly developed, in keeping with their heavenly origin. This is in part to defend themselves against outside threats from the Drift, but also a fundamental part of their culture that they take quite seriously.
  • - Though they have attempted to exit the Drift, creating gates has proven problematic. They’ve theorised that a sufficiently strong propulsion system may allow them to move the entire floating landmass, but they are uncertain if this would also move their atmosphere as well. It is an interesting idea that I am regrettably unqualified to provide greater insight on at this time.
  • - Socially, Bulwark most closely resembles a self-sufficient socialist commune, in which each member contributes in whatever manner they are able, and all residents are seen to in accordance with their need. Given their society’s heavenly influence, greed and corruption do not seem to be significant social problems. Naturally, I cannot completely confirm this from a single visit and the accounts of a local authority figure, but I do trust that Sondrya at least believes this to be true.
  • - Though it is an isolated community, Bulwark’s mortal population is sufficiently large that it does not suffer from a lack of genetic diversity, though this is monitored to avoid any potential complications.
  • - While the native residents of Heaven do not require sustenance, an expansive array of nutritionally balanced crops are produced from Bulwark’s agricultural zone in order to supply for the needs of the settlement’s mortal populace. Their staple dish is a small maize-based flatbread folded over an assortment of grilled and fresh vegetables, seasonings, and sauces. The dish, which they call "tah-kos" is highly customisable and at once crunchy, soft, sweet, sour, savoury, and can even be made a little spicy. It has a refreshing flavour profile that feels somewhat reminiscent of lashunta dishes, though some of the ingredients used are not native to Castrovel. I’ve taken some notes to see if I can reproduce this dish once we have returned to the Pact Worlds, as it is (if you’ll pardon the pun) absolutely divine. I’ve also procured some samples to bring back to the rest of the crew, though we’ll have to make sure we adequately compensate Bulwark with some goods of our own.

Once we arrived at our destination, we refocused on more serious matters. I shared with Sondrya my condensed file on the necrobots (which she absorbed immediately) and declared that we were seeking aid of any sort to help us in our investigation of the Adamant Fragments, be it military aid, information, or whatever else they might be able to provide.

The nature of the necrobots was clearly distressing to the archon, and she expressed a desire to provide some measure of assistance, though her body language also suggested a reluctance or inability to do so. As we would learn, there were two factors that would pose a problem. The first is that the angelic and archonic residents of Bulwark were unable to leave the atmospheric limits of Bulwark. More accurately, doing so completely stripped them of their inherent powers, rendering them extremely feeble and vulnerable. This would indeed be a major disincentive to ever push beyond their boundaries.

The second was that Bulwark had recently suffered an attack at the hands of cultists of the Devourer. One of their commanders had been abducted, and was being tortured by the cultists who demanded armaments, ships, and other goods from the settlement in exchange for his return. From one image Sondrya provided, these cultists were well armed and had already severely maimed the commander.

My knowledge of the cult of the Devourer is limited to my studies of religious zealotry from when I took my bachelors in interstellar anthropology, but even now, the images of the gruesome atrocities they commit might reemerge from my nightmares. If the commander was still alive, no doubt he was suffering immensely at their hands, and while Bulwark may have a respectable military presence, they lacked the capacity to properly retaliate. Personally, I would hate to have to deal with such an unpleasant foe, which as one might expect is exactly what was then asked of us. Sondrya requested the Everdawn’s assistance in retrieving their commander and exterminating the cultists.

Frightening as the Devourer cultists might be, it would be unconscionable to deny this request. The cultists, by Bulwark’s account, are a fairly small group, well within the means for us to handle. If we had the ability to help, then we could hardly refuse the call. As such, I presented the offer to Soryn and Vari, requesting that we accept the task. Soryn didn’t take much convincing, while Vari acquiesced once I explained that the mission was on a quid pro quo basis. Agents of Heaven are not the sort to default on a debt, after all.

Partially in thanks for our aid and to help us in the fight to come, Bulwark supplied us with upgrades to our arms that would infuse them with Celestial energy. Given the necromantic elements of necrobot physiology, these upgrades may even serve us against them…

But one terrifying enemy force at a time. For the next few days at least, our focus would be on the cult of the Devourer…

Player's Notes: This was a short session, so we ended up doing some joking around. I ALSO did a couple more 1 on 1 RPs with Yaro's player to further establish their relationship. I won't add them here, but you can find 26a and 27a in the drive link at the top if you're interested in a nerdy girl and a dog boy being adorable at each other (I'm still working on 27a so that one will show up a bit later).


23/08/08 - Session 26 - Drift Discoveries
Fifthday, 25th Arodus, 322 AG, Bulwark, The Drift

Before we set off into the Drift to single-handedly seek out what may well be a stronghold of hyper-deadly undead robots, I thought it might be a good idea to at least try to get in touch with the Elorituan Church to see if they wouldn’t be willing to offer at least some measure of collaboration. Even if historically they’ve remained deeply committed to preserving the secrecy of their knowledge, a part of me still hoped that they might recognise the importance of the threat we were now facing.

Regrettably, they did not. In fact, they were rather rude about it, which seemed wholly unnecessary. Perhaps it is cultural ignorance on my part, but I have a great deal of difficulty appreciating why they would be so inflexible even under such dire circumstances. It’s not as though I don’t understand the value of secrecy and the risks of sharing sensitive information, but no principle exists entirely within a vacuum. They are necessarily shaped by context. I believe in the power of science, but I would be a poor scientist if I did not recognise the limitations of what it can explain. The fundamental concept of the scientific method is that it is a perpetual exploration, which implies that there is no point at which our understanding of the universe is wholly complete. Likewise, to conceal knowledge solely for the purpose of concealing it, without appreciating that there are times when sharing it might be better…

Sufficed to say, my interactions with the Elorituans have reminded me of why I did not affiliate myself with them during my time in Castrovellian academia. At best, they are grossly underestimating the danger we could be facing, and at worst, they are arrogant to the point of being willing to doom many innocent lives in the name of a principle that serves absolutely nobody, including themselves.

Frustrating as my experience might have been, it has at least shown me the value of having a partner. Yaro’s been invaluable as both a sounding board and venue through which to vent my frustrations and stress, not to mention his fur is incredibly soothing to run my fingers through… [Editor’s Note: DEFINITELY remove this part from any publicised versions.]

The fact I am not the only one in our group trained in psychotherapy has been a boon not just for my own wellbeing. While I was preoccupied with my research, Yaroslav had been making the rounds across the ship’s crew. Tough as each of our companions is, when dealing with persistent high-stress environments like this, it’s important to keep checking in. For the time being, I’m comfortable leaving that task in his very capable hands. [Editor’s Note: Maybe rephrase that last line. It occurs to me that it might be a little suggestive… Not to say that it is inaccurate (because it isn’t), but I don’t need the scientific community making inferences about my boyfriend’s proficiencies besides his professional ones.]

After ensuring that our data was properly backed up and shared with our beneficiaries at AbadarCorp, we set off for the Drift on the 15th of Arodus. We were able to still detect the signature we had found before, this time at a roughly 12 days distance with our superior propulsion systems. Fortunately, I had plenty of ways to spend the time… [Editor’s Note: NO]

The nature of the Drift makes it a bit of a mess to traverse for long periods. Though we had the necrobot energy signature as our guiding star, the Drift’s ever-changing spatial configuration means that we had to perpetually recalculate to ensure that we wouldn’t suddenly find ourselves completely off track and quite possibly lost in the immense void of space. Quite honestly, as fascinating as space and the Drift are, there is a reason I focused my studies more towards the biological and sociological. The scale of astrophysics is… Daunting, to say the least. As someone who is constantly seeking out stimulation, dealing with that much emptiness is uncomfortable. [Editor’s Note: I am really not helping myself…]

Given that we couldn’t exactly just put ourselves in cryostasis for the journey, we mostly had to rely on each other and whatever recreational materials we brought with us to keep us entertained. For the most part I bounced between reading, studying the “Dolmen Stone”, conducting routine exams on the crew, and spending some quality time with Yaro and the others. Prolonged isolation with only a few individuals has been known to be psychologically taxing and a serious test for most relationships, but fortunately all of us have spent enough time growing comfortable with each other that this did not prove too stressful. Even Murkk has become somewhat easier to manage, now that she’s had her fill of tasting every part of the Everdawm… Well, mostly.

Even so, it would be disingenuous of me to assert that boredom was not starting to set it after about a week. It made the sudden hail from another vessel quite an exciting event. What made the encounter all the more noteworthy however was what the vessel and its crew actually were. The ship identified itself as Horizon’s End, and the symbol that adorned it was unmistakably that of Weydan, the deity of discovery, equality, exploration, and freedom. Within the first few words exchanged between us, I recognised that Horizon’s End was nothing less than an Avatar Ship. That is to say, the crew of the ship was composed entirely of fragments of the very same deity. Their mission statement, as they told us, was to explore the Drift and make as many discoveries as possible. A simple yet ambitious task.

Though not a follower of Weydan myself, I sympathise with a great number of his philosophies, and took a certain interest in them during my time studying sociology. Under other circumstances, I would have loved to probe the crew for their insights into having such a unique and intimate relationship with their deity, but it seemed clear that they had little interest in lingering any longer than would be necessary before setting off in search of new things to discover. It was a bit easier to accept their staunch adherence to their guiding principles than it was with the Elorituans, but nevertheless a bit disappointing.

I offered my academic synopsis of our accumulated knowledge of the necrobots as a show of good faith (filtered to exclude any proprietary details of course, lest I incur any breach of contract with our dear employers at AbadarCorp), and in return asked if they might have any knowledge on either the Heap or the Adamant Fragments. They confirmed the existence of the Adamant Fragments, as well as their connection to the necrobots. They too encountered the place just as the Elorituans did, and similarly, it appeared to be dormant during their visit, though this was long ago. One additional detail they offered was a symbol. This symbol was similar to what I’ve come to recognise as a sort of standard necrobot insignia, but with a few key differences. It was fortunate that I had already pulled up my records to share them, as it only took a brief search to confirm my recollection: the symbol they showed us was identical to the one worn by the scythe-wielding leader that killed the captain of the Kagekumo.

The exact significance of this detail is still uncertain, but my current hypothesis is that this is a sort of factional emblem of sorts. That, or it could be an indicator of rank or authority… Or a billion other things. No amount of anthropological training can extrapolate fully coherent meaning from such a limited data set. It is a start though, and one we might be able to build on with future data.

That being said, this was not the only knowledge that Horizon’s End offered to us. They also gave us coordinates to a landmark in the Drift they had recently visited, suggesting that we might find something of use to us there. Perhaps they sensed my disappointment or desperation. It has been nearly three months now that I’ve fully committed myself to the study of the necrobots and their physics-defying technology, with very little to show for it. Whatever the case may be, the gesture was greatly appreciated. Though I remain loyal to Yaraesa’s teachings, I hope that I can offer my thanks to Weydan with the affirmation that despite my setbacks, I will continue in my pursuit of discovery and understanding.

When Horizon’s End set us on our slight detour, I was uncertain of what we might find. I tried not to speculate too intensely, though I will confess to some flights of fancy. None of the ideas that came to my mind quite approximated the large golden atmospheric orb we ended up finding at our given destination.

Initially, we were uncertain as to just what it was exactly, until we were hailed. Bulwark, as it is apparently called, is nothing less than a small piece of the Heavenly Plane! The golden orb was in fact an atmospheric bubble made to house a port city of sorts. As Yaro aptly pointed out, the name may have something to do with the Empyreal Lord Arqueros, the Golden Bulwark. If this place truly is associated with the supposed Guardian of Heaven, then we truly have both figuratively and literally struck gold.

After so many days in the void of the Drift, dreading our impending encounter with a necrobot settlement, this particular discovery is an incredibly welcome one. Maybe, just maybe, they will be able to help us where so many others have been unable…

Player's Notes: I ended up being a bit late to write this one on account of various things happening at once. A major career milestone, an anime convention, and finally me catching a cold. But, I managed to get it done just before today's session at least.

Astrea being a bit insatiable has become something of a meme at the table. It's not something I started or even intended, but frankly it kind of fits so I'm rolling with it, and playing around with the notion that she's still trying to figure out what the appropriate level of openness about it is. As time goes on she'll figure out a comfortable medium, I'm sure, but for now she's still routinely flustered by how badly she's hiding her attraction (the routine teasing from the rest of the crew isn't helping with that).

As for Bulwark, it's a neat little Easter egg for some of our players. If I remember the story correctly Yaro's player once played a paladin of Arqueros in a Wrath of the Righteous campaign our GM ran. In an amusing full circle moment, apparently our GM is now playing the Wrath video game and made Meved as a character (or animal companion, I'm not sure). He's still as terrifying in the game as he is in ours, which seems fitting.


23/07/25 - Session 24b - Letter From Dr. Tethys
Thirday, 9th Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot, Akiton

[The following correspondence was received by digital mail, addressed to Astrea Maerifa by way of her university account]

Dear Astrea,

Hope this letter finds you well. Heard about that nasty business on Akiton. There were videos and posts all over the extranet. Glad to hear you and your friends made it through safely. As always, as your mentor, I am here to talk if you need to (though admittedly, combat related PTSD is not exactly my area of expertise).

I am reaching out to you to bring something to your attention. I am sure you remember Dr. Afasha’s lectures on the nature of The Drift and the barrier that exists between it and all other planes. Well I was helping him perform some study and I came across a paper I thought you might be interested in. I have attached a copy of it from the university’s document repository for your convenience, but I will summarise it here as well.

The paper goes over the nature of how magic could be blocked from crossing a planar boundary but technology would allow that veil to be pierced. More specifically, it discusses the event known as the Failed-Gate in some detail. I knew such a thing existed, but was unsure of the details. Given what you have been involved in recently, I thought it might be of interest to you.

Apparently the Failed Gate experiment was conducted by a group of Elorituans in approximately 189 AG who tried to link an artefact here on the Material Plane with one of the Drift Beacons placed by the priests of Triune within the Drift. The artefact, or “Dolmen Stone” as they referred to it, consisted of a crystal of unknown origin and composition that they found while in the drift. The paper references a journal from one of the Elorituans who describe where they found the stone. See the excerpt below:

…… passed through the doorway into what could only be described as a tomb. There were corpses of what appeared to be a large number of inactive necrografted robotic organisms scattered around the entire ziggurat. They all bore similar markings unlike anything we had ever seen. Tatrelfad documented the markings meticulously and has been working on translating them. His preliminary analysis seems to suggest they are some sort of clan or perhaps religious meaning. It is unclear at this time.

The structure itself was centred around a singular large coffin and within was this stone. Everything around it was defunct and clearly lost to the ravages of time and the drift, but this stone still pulsed with energy unlike anything we had ever seen. Virfnegtrolkanst noted the stone seemed to react positively and its energy output was amplified as we approached the drift beacons to bring us out of the drift and back to the material plane …….

(Interesting side thought, the name probably comes from the pre-gap Tian Xia regions of Ancient Golarion and refers to a sort of tomb wherein the lids would often rot away well before the stone walls and leave just an exposed skeleton inside. Perhaps they were referring to the exterior as the “Dolmen” for the necrografted robotic organisms?) Given other descriptions in the journal and what we discussed the last time you were at the university, I thought this would be of interest to you.

To me, the stone they describe seems to match the description and pictures of the fragment you sent recently, and they even detail some of the processes that you re-created within the “enigma drive” to capture the energy output from the drive. Moreover their description of “Necrografted robotic organisms” certainly seems to fit the description of your “Necro-bots”.

I have no idea where this is going and am honestly a bit overwhelmed by the entire situation. I just know I promised I would keep my eyes and ears open for you so here we are. As always I am only ever a vid-call away if you need to discuss anything or just as a sounding board to bounce ideas off of. Stay safe out there, the university simply wouldn’t be the same without you.

Respectfully,

Dr. Helio Tethys
Asoc. Dir. Arcane-Neurotechnology Interaction
University of Qabarat

Player's Notes: This was given to me as a handout right after the previous session to help us along with the next plot point. It felt relevant to include it here since I mention it in the subsequent entry. That said, it's actually only one of two entries made between sessions. 24a is a cleaned up transcription of an RP done between myself and Yaro's player covering their private conversation that leads into the start of the next entry. It gets a little spicy at the end (but not outright explicit), so I excluded it from here, but I did have a lot of fun writing it, so feel free to check it out in the Google Drive document if you're interested (link is in the very first post on this thread).

Now, the actual session post.

23/08/01 - Session 25 - Taking a Qabaratical
Seconday, 15th Arodus, 322 AG, Qabarat, Castrovel

Since my last journal entry, there have been some… Developments, on the Everdawn. Well, one development, mostly. I had a conversation with Yaroslav and… Let’s just say one thing led to another, and our relationship has now evolved into a romantic one. I had hoped to keep the matter private for at least a little while, but circumstances have resulted in the entire ship being aware. Apparently I underestimated Vinu’s interest in the crew’s recreational activities, as well as Meved’s… Sense of smell. I am thoroughly mortified, but at this point what’s done is done, so I will simply have to overcome my immense embarrassment.

Fortunately, Yaro has been incredibly supportive. Neither of us is especially familiar with this sort of relationship, so we’ve been taking great pains to ensure our mutual comfort as we find our bearings. I cannot help but feel that even in this respect, he is the more stable of the two of us, able to accommodate my lack of experience and my um… Eccentricities. He’s been unerringly patient as I try to navigate these new circumstances, and I find myself all the more fond of him for it. As for public displays of affection, I’ve tried to restrain myself… Mostly.

My personal situation would have to take a backseat however, as there was still a galactic crisis to avert. Professor Tethys sent me a message informing me of a curious excerpt that might provide a lead to better understanding the necrobots. An expedition log tied to the infamous Failed Gate experiment made mention of a piece of technology called a “Dolmen Stone” whose description closely matched the piece of technology I had recovered from the Stellar Flare’s destroyed Enigma Core. It also referred to technologically enhanced undead residing within a tomb-like structure, very much in line with the necrobots.

Given the account, it seems clear that the expedition had come across the necrobots over a century ago, but found that group to be dormant or deceased. Unfortunately, very little else is known about the Failed Gate experiment. We know that it was an attempt to create a portal into the Drift using magic, and that the experiment failed catastrophically due to the Drift’s natural incompatibility with the metaphysical properties of magic, resulting in the deaths of all of the researchers, but that’s about it. The experiment was conducted by Elorituans, who closely guard whatever additional details they might know, if any (see previously mentioned lack of survivors). Even as a professional scholar, I have few connections that would grant me the means to gain privileged information from the Elorituans. My affiliation with Yaraesa wouldn’t help either, given our faiths’ conflicting views on the dissemination of information. Elorituans value secrecy, so they likely wouldn’t take kindly to revealing confidential information to someone who believes in the open sharing of knowledge…

Instead of devoting ourselves to the unlikely chance of persuading the followers of the “Hidden Truth” to unhide their truths, we decided to try and work around the information we could gather. This meant that we would have to travel somewhere that would not only have an immense repository of knowledge, but also enough proximity to a major site of Eloritu’s faith that some of their records might have bled out. As it so happens, my home city of Qabarat fits both of these descriptions, so I contacted my parents and we set course.

We opted to use the Drift to travel to Castrovel. Given that the necrobots have already shown the ability to appear on the Material Plane without prior Drift interference, it seems unlikely that travelling in the Drift would bring much more of a risk to us than there already is. That prediction seemed to be validated, as we didn’t encounter any giant necrobot warships waiting to tear us apart this time. We did however identify one necrobot-like signature on our scanners, though it was a great enough distance from our intended trajectory that we thought it best to maintain course and gather more information before pursuing. For all we knew, we could have been running into something far more dangerous than a warship.

It had been roughly four months since I last saw home, but the feeling of nostalgia gave me the impression that it had been much longer. Not long after my sister and I both left home, my parents moved into a smaller apartment that I’d never visited before, so even the term “homecoming” felt like something of a misnomer.

My parents were the same as ever at least, welcoming me and my companions with a level of familiarity that might have even been too enthusiastic. As a student, my dedication to my studies left me a bit isolated, so I rarely ever brought friends over. Perhaps they were simply compensating for that scarcity. I suppose it was better than the alternative, but still… They were practically treating Yaro like he was already their son-in-law, which I have no serious objection to but… It was rather abrupt. It nearly gave me the impression that they were desperately waiting for me to find a partner…

I hope Yaro wasn’t unsettled as a result, though if he was, he showed no indication of it. Rather, he seemed endlessly enthused at newly discovering the various mundanities I’d grown accustomed to in my youth. There was something immensely endearing about that, which makes me wonder how I’ll seem if I ever visit Lajok. I only hope my attire is a little less comical than Yaro’s choice of “hot weather” clothing. Perhaps being blind for most of his life has left Yaro with a diminished sense of colour theory, but even factoring for that I wouldn’t have expected such a fondness for absolutely garish tropical t-shirts. The straw hat and sunglasses did complement his colourful wardrobe though, I will admit.

I tried not to linger too long with my parents before leaving to the universities to conduct my research. Yaro joined me, though the others opted to take some much needed shore leave. Vinu sought out the local nightlife (something my mom of all people was best equipped to inform her about), while I called in a favour with my sister to take Meved on a jungle expedition. Aphaea’s always been my polar opposite in terms of personality, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise when I found out that she and Meved got along like a house on fire. Fortunately there were no houses in the jungle to set ablaze in this case, though the excursion did apparently result in a notable decrease in the local megafauna population…

Qabarat’s libraries are reputed to be some of the finest in the world, full of just about every facet of knowledge there is to find. I’ve always adored spending time in them. The peace and quiet, save for the occasional page turn or rhythmic taps on a computer terminal, interspersed with the errant gasp of realisation or inquisitive sound when someone is on the verge of an “interesting” discovery… Oh, and the scent of aged paper and preservative agents… Not to mention the taste of a hot aromatic spiced beverage and pastries from the local coffee shop and the very caring boyfriend that generously retrieved them. It was all just how I remembered it. Well, save for that last detail. That’s a pleasant bonus.
Enjoyable atmosphere aside, the subject matter of my visit was considerably more difficult to research than anything that had previously brought me to such hallowed halls. I started by looking into the Failed Gate and the Elorituans directly, but there was little more than the paper Professor Tethys shared with me and some other papers referencing it while offering wild speculative theories. “Dolmen Stone” yielded little more than references to a region of the lost world of Golarion, but with few other connecting factors to suggest any deeper connection there. The necrobot marking that we’ve encountered on their technology did almost lead to an interesting trail, but that ended up being another dead end.

It took a few days, but ultimately I did manage to find something that may be of use. By cross referencing reports of the Failed Gate incident and scientific expedition records with ship manifests and travel logs from the space port, I was able to narrow down the list of destinations that were likely visited by the crew that found the “Dolmen Stone”. The first was a massive ship graveyard in the Drift known as the Heap, which supposedly even contains ships of unknown origin. The second destination was called the Adamant Fragments. Also located in the Drift, these were the interspersed ruins of a long lost civilization. Further investigation into this revealed a few documents about the civilisation, including descriptions of symbols that match the ones found on many pieces of necrobot technology! If that’s true, then it might even be possible that the Adamant Fragments are what remains of the necrobot’s original civilisation!

In either case, the Heap and the Adamant Fragments both present possible means to learn more about these mysterious entities we call necrobots. The problem lies with the fact that both reside in the Drift, so none of the recorded coordinates would still be useful to us today. Furthermore, both sites have been exceedingly hard to find, with only a few accounts of anyone successfully reaching them. Our best hope is that our sensors keyed to the necrobot energy signatures might give us enough of an edge to seek them out…

Even if we do, we still have no idea what to expect. The knowledge we gained from researching is regrettably still too vague to actually prepare us for whatever we might encounter. The Elorituans who found the Dolmen Stone noted that the beings they found were either deceased or dormant. I fear we might not be so fortunate…

Player's Notes: If I'm being honest, I never actually expected us to go to Qabarat in this campaign or to visit Astrea's family, so I wasn't super prepared for how they would be. I kind of defined a bunch of things on the fly, drawing some elements of Astrea's parents and sister from the original setting I created them in and mixing it with a few other elements. The result was something approximating "the Addams Family if they were nerds instead of goths". We ended up kind of glossing over Yaro meeting them in the actual game, so there's a chance Yaro's player and I will end up roleplaying that separately like we did Astrea and Yaro's conversation. It's proven to be a good way to further some character development without taking up too much time at the table.


23/07/25 - Session 24 - Astrea’s Journal: Ships’ Launch
Seventhday, 6th Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot, Akiton

When the Everdawn ascended out of the Arena, I only briefly caught a glimpse of the pillars of smoke rising from the city skyline before I had to rush to the science station. A quick look at the ship’s scanners told me that there were no significant necrobot signatures in Khefak Depot besides the two fighters that were just now catching back up to us. I suppose between us and O’Toole’s missile, the land assault was halted. There was some solace in that. It meant we could focus our attention entirely on these remaining vessels and hope that with that, we’d finally end this nightmare.

Despite being a skeleton crew, Tibbers, Vari, Madeci, and Vanessa (I’m starting to think Tibbers has a particular fondness for “V” names) did a good job of keeping the Everdawn intact. That being said, for all their skill, they lacked the manpower to fully exploit all of the resources our ship could muster. Tibbers is a capable pilot, but Vinu’s… Unorthodox techniques kept us one step ahead of the enemy ships the entire fight. Incidentally, I’m forever grateful we invested in inertia dampeners; the whiplash from Vinu’s constant shifts between forward and reverse thrust would have surely caused more than a few injuries otherwise. Yaro’s mystical aptitudes ensured we’d have a further leg up on the necrobot fighters, saving us on a few occasions with his foresight. Riddle was initially handling the engines while I managed the targeting systems, but when it became clear that Riddle’s tasks would put too much strain on her leg, I handed her my control module for the scanners instead. She did an excellent job keeping us locked onto the enemy weapons systems. For the bulk of the fight, my attention was spent entirely on pushing as much energy into the rest of the ship’s systems as possible.

Actually, my initial intention was to repair some damage done to the power core, but in the time it took for me to inspect it, the Enigma Core actually appeared to have partially restored itself. I wasn’t exactly in a position to take the time to study the nature of this phenomenon, but it seems likely to me that this was akin to the same self-restorative system we’ve seen manifested by the necrobots. If that is the case, then the technology we’ve reproduced here is all the more exceptional, and will require a more thorough examination.

Not to belittle the remainder of the crew’s efforts, but our weapons operators deserve special praise. I’m told that Vanessa was an excellent shot with the ship’s solar cannon. I don’t doubt this, since we did invest in her for just such a purpose (among others), but I have to wonder how her computational ability compares to the instinctive skill of hardened soldiers. I’ve known Meved to be a ruthless fighter on land, but it was a little surprising to see how effectively he manned a turret. Then there’s Soryn… There is an expression about not underestimating an older individual in a profession where premature death is common. That adage rings very true for our commanding officer. Despite still suffering from numerous serious wounds and “Captain” Vari’s persistent “encouragement” (or perhaps because of it), Soryn’s aim was frighteningly deadly. It took only a couple shots for one of the ships to be destroyed, and the second was thoroughly disarmed before it managed to flee.

Besides effectively concluding our fight for Khefak Depot, two things of note occurred during our aerial combat. The first was that before shooting down the first fighter, we managed to remove its primary gun. Surprisingly, it didn’t disintegrate with the rest of the ship. We would later retrieve it, and in the process find our old friend Murkk helpfully guarding it from looters. Honestly, I was more glad to learn that Murkk and Qesh had survived than the weapon.

The second detail was that the vessel escaped did so not by entering the Drift or by using any conventional methods of propulsion, but rather through teleportation. The energy readings had the same signature as the necrobot weapon systems or the Enigma Core, and I’m confident that it was the same method used by the larger ship that attacked the Nerosyan when we were fleeing the Kagekumo, or how the necrobots seemingly appear out of thin air. That suggests that this manner of spacial displacement is not only highly scalable, but also that the necrobots have a thorough understanding of how to utilise it. If that’s the case, their tactical mobility far outclasses the Pact Worlds, and stresses the need for us to reverse engineer their technology, lest it become our downfall. Our research is no longer a matter of discovering infinite energy so much as it is a matter of overcoming an existential threat.

We had successfully repelled the necrobots from Khefak Depot, though even setting aside the terrifying thought that they might reappear anywhere at anytime and we would have no way to prepare for it, the damage they had already done was significant. Even if I wanted to, tallying the death count would be difficult with the necrobot’s penchant for disintegration. Homes and businesses were reduced to rubble, and I can only begin to fathom the psychological impact on the survivors… I offered up as much of my time helping around town as I could muster, but I only have so much energy, and some of it needed to be dedicated to furthering our research to ensure a tragedy like this would never happen again…

By studying the nanobot samples I had retrieved along with my existing samples of Meved’s mutations, I was able to synthesise a few new forms of technomancy. The first was a rudimentary version of the regenerative factor applied by the necrobots. So far, I can only make it function on subjects with preexisting technological implants, but in these cases I can synergise the nanobots with their biological functions to effectively accelerate their natural healing processes. It did enough to keep Soryn from being completely bedridden for the next several weeks, which given the state he was in was no small accomplishment.

My second development was a weaponised version of the nanobots that alter water vapour into a corrosive acid, essentially a reversal of their restorative function. The corrosive effect should be quite effective at causing intense and persistent damage to necrobot targets.

My third discovery was more of an investigation into the combat routines used by the necrobots. By combining my pre-existing knowledge of how to temporarily inhibit motor functions linked to weapons use with my telepathic combat support techniques, I’ve figured out a way to scramble the programming used by necrobots to hinder their ability to perform most actions, if only for a limited time. It’s rather resource-intensive, but may serve well in a situation where we need to prevent a necrobot from acting, such as to prevent them from landing a final critical shot on my best friend right at the very end of a conflict…

To help with my investigations, I also invested in getting some Akashic support magic. The necrobots don’t seem all that susceptible to slippery surfaces, so it seemed a more useful use of my magical energy than Grease. Likewise, some of my other revelations necessarily replaced a few of my spells that have proven less applicable to our particular circumstances.

Aside from my own research, I took some time to brief Riddle and Murkk on the specifics of necrobot technology and our terrifying situation. Given what they had just experienced, it seemed only fair to fill them in, at the very least, and I could use the assistance. For now, Riddle’s business isn’t in much of a state to return to, and Murkk’s unique understanding of engineering and physics may be exactly what we need to decipher the contradictions of necrobot technology. Either way, it would be nice to have some more company in the lab.

While I was focusing on providing medical support and conducting my nanobot experiments, apparently O’Toole ran a sale in recognition of his contribution in the fight for Khefak Depot. Meved and Vinu seemed to have eagerly taken up the offer, especially after Vari wired us a generous amount of funds for our contributions towards preserving AbadarCorp’s assets. For my part, I bought some materials to boost my cerebral enhancement and to improve my speed and stamina, along with some toolkits and a very nice new custom labcoat that ought to boost my telepathic capabilities somewhat. I had not expected to be using a paycheck for such martial ends, but recent encounters have made it clear that I will almost certainly find myself in a battlefield again, and I can’t afford to be so vulnerable when that happens.

Vulnerable…

I found myself feeling remarkably vulnerable on several occasions recently, but one case keeps returning to my mind. The sight of Yaro so close to death in my arms has left a deep imprint on my psyche. I’ve stated it on several occasions in this journal, but he’s consistently been my bastion of sanity in all of these insane situations. I’ve frequently found myself being pushed to my emotional limits these past few months, and each time, he’s been there to support me. Having seen him work, I’m certain he would have been just as supportive to anyone he felt needed it. I can’t even begin to quantify his kindness and earnestness. Each time I go to administer treatment to the scar in his torso, I’m reminded that it’s a direct product of his attempt to ensure the safety of the rest of us at great personal risk. If he hadn’t absorbed some of our own wounds onto himself… If he hadn’t used all of his healing magic on the rest of us… If he hadn’t rushed into the line of fire to keep the necrobots from overrunning us... His strength of character is exceedingly admirable…

Though my own feelings go beyond admiration. It may well be that what I feel is simply the strength of bonds one feels from shared trauma, but I firmly believe there is another form of attraction there. Even beyond his exemplary personality in times of difficulty, we share many common interests and sensibilities. He’s also quite handsome, and somehow the scars on his incredibly soft and comforting fur only help with that... There is a lot that would lead me to believe that we are compatible… From an analytical perspective, I’ve concluded that my attraction is not only emotionally cogent, but also rationally so. The only variable I’m missing from the equation is his feelings towards me… It’s a very disconcerting variable to lack…

I’ve resolved to talk to Yaro at some point before we set off for our next destination, wherever it might be. After all, I have no idea when or even if I might get another chance…

Player's Notes: After a second attempt at starship combat, I will say it's a lot more fun once everyone gets used to the mechanics and you have a party of skilled characters that can actually reliably pull off their actions. Generally speaking in fact, Starfinder seems to really ramp up after level 6. It's like a more severe version of the curve that exists in Pathfinder 1e. Makes me wonder how things will play out once we start hitting level 12 or so...

I ended up retraining several spells with our downtime (our GM lets us retrain as per the P1e rules). Grease and Wall of Steam didn't end up being nearly as useful as I had hoped for area control, and School Spirit is useless considering our GM made the necrobots immune to fear, so they've been replaced with Akashik Download, Caustic Conversion, and Edit Code. I also added Biomechanical Symbiosis to give me some healing potential, plus all of these fit a bit better with the campaign. Now I've got a nice variety of support and damage to go along with Unionist + Helpful Telepath + Communalism. I'm hoping that will give me a good reliable role in combat from here on out.

I've now also pretty firmly established with Yaro's player that they're going to have a personal talk at some point before or at the start of the next session. I'm going to try and convert that into an entry log so that I can share it as well, because I'm sure it'll be adorable!


23/07/11 - Session 23 - Astrea’s Journal: Picking Ourselves Back Up
Fourthday, 3rd Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot, Akiton

There have been numerous moments in the last few months that I might have described as stressful if not downright traumatic. As a scholar who was (woefully) ill-equipped to deal with the hostilities of the world outside of academia, I anticipated that there would be some measure of acclimatisation needed, but that a steady gradual influx of experience would allow me to comfortably absorb and adapt to more practical circumstances. The risk I took was calculated, and if my grades were to be believed, I am a capable mathematician.

After finding myself cowering behind a thin barrier of concrete to protect myself from a squadron of xenomorphic death robots and an invisible sniper that could very likely disintegrate my entire being with a single blast, I am beginning to wonder if I brought an algebra textbook to a quantum physics class…

There is no doubt that I owe my life to my teammates many times over at this point. Had Meved not taken that initial volley with his aberrantly resilient physiology, or if Yaro hadn’t managed to catch up to us to restore most of our vitality, or even if Vinu hadn’t circled around to cause a diversion… I would rather not linger on the likely outcomes of our situation. Meanwhile, the best I could muster with my single spell was a smokescreen, and even that was just a minor inconvenience for the necrobots. Recent conflict situations have made it increasingly clear to me that on my own, I am not at all useful in a fight.

However, as I’ve come to accept that theory, it’s opened my mind to an alternative approach. In my career as a teaching assistant, my role is to enable others and maximise their potential. This principle can effectively be applied outside of the classroom as well.

In this case, application took the form of me pushing towards the enemy first. The intention was to move between cover and get in close enough that I could provide fire support for Meved and Yaro. Instead, I ended up putting myself in the sniper’s direct line of fire. For the second time in the span of a minute, I felt the death mark appear on my chest.

My response was to run right past the sniper, taking advantage of its unpreparedness to take cover behind a thick wall. That distracted it enough so as to not notice Meved bursting past my steam wall (which had just dissipated at that precise moment) and charging it. This would mark the start of Meved’s rampage as he tore through one necrobot after the next. I simply followed behind and used a combination of covering fire and telepathy to improve his lethality (though his increasingly concerning robotic mutations were the much larger factor in that equation). Once Meved had gone into motion, he very much stayed in motion, to a point where the sheer momentum of his assault could not be opposed.

I would like to say that I could take credit for this as some sort of genius plan, but to do so would be disingenuous. I was too terrified to think and was mostly acting on impulse.

My survival can primarily be attributed to Meved functioning as a barrier for most of the fight. Vinu, who as mentioned had taken a back route to flank the enemy, did not enjoy that privilege. Roughly halfway through our rampage, we heard her get severely injured by the necrobots positioned in a nearby building. If Yaro hadn’t risked himself running through the parking lot to rescue her, there is a distressingly high likelihood that she would not have survived. That alone was a deeply frightening experience I would like to never repeat.

Of course, my personal preferences regarding traumatic experiences is hardly the measure by which the universe allocates them. Just as the fight was almost done, we had a second near death experience. Meved and Vinu were finishing off one bot in a nearby building, so I joined Yaro in the parking lot to help him with the last remaining soldier. Just as I got to him… The necrobot’s aim was deadly accurate… It was a direct hit to his vital organs.

Yaroslav, who had up until now been the stabilising force that kept us not only alive, but sane. My anchor in all of this madness… When he was laying there in my arms, he looked so ragged. He had spent every part of himself keeping us alive up until now, so much so that he couldn’t even help himself. And all of this, the shot… He was hit the very moment I had come up behind him to provide support. There’s a part of me that can’t help but think that if I hadn’t distracted him in that one instant…

It was the height of fortune that I still had some of the healing serums I had made during our time on Absalom. I specifically developed some countermeasures to the atomic decay factor inherent to necrobot weaponry. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to prevent the wound from becoming lethal. I thank my lucky stars for that, because if Yaro hadn’t made it. If he had died in my arms in that moment… I’m not sure that I could have handled that…

I’m reminded as I recount this, all the things I didn’t say to him before. Everything I’d still like to say… I need time to process my feelings, but now I’m terrified of not getting the chance to express them. I can’t afford to lose Yaro. Really, I can’t afford to lose anyone, not now…

Which brings me back to why we had made this detour in the first place. We found Adventures in Junk in ruins. Riddle was alive, but pinned under the rubble. I offered what suggestions I could to safely remove the chunks of metal and concrete without causing a collapse while the others did the heavy lifting and Vinu snuck through to get Riddle out. All things considered, a broken leg is a far better fate than we might have hoped for. That at least we could fix with some time on the Everdawn’s medbay. In the meantime, we made do with a splint. I’m still impressed that Yaro could dive right back into being a medic despite having very nearly died just a few minutes ago. The resiliency of combat medics is something else…

Moving on, Khefak Depot was not yet liberated from the necrobot attack. Up to that point, we had largely opted not to dwell too much on the giant alien pyramid that occupied what was previously Ixomander's Throne (the same hotel we had briefly occupied during our last stay in town). My best hypothesis was that the new structure was some form of necrobot dropship or control centre. Either way, we lacked the means to deal with a structure of that scale on our own. It was a strange bit of serendipity then that the town had another powerful ally poised to provide some assistance.

I acknowledge that in the past, I have not had the highest opinion of O’Toole’s… Unique enthusiasm for combustibles and disregard for basic safety practices or common sense. Under most circumstances, my objections would stand, but as it turns out, a store run by a madman equipped with a small scale ballistic missile can be quite a useful asset for a town being invaded by a legion of undead robots. We did not go to investigate the impact site directly, but given the scale of the explosion and the subsequent lack of a pulsating green pyramid on the skyline, we assumed that the intended effect was accomplished.

On the subject of incredibly powerful allies, we arrived at the Arena just as Soryn and the Admiral were finishing up a fight with a necrobot larger than any I had seen. It seemed similar to the officer variants we had previously encountered, but heavily modified with a floating platform in place of legs and several weapons integrated into its physiology. Under other circumstances, I might have been curious to study a being that had so thoroughly altered itself for combat purposes, but in this case I simply joined the others in applying enough acidic compounds to its regenerating body to ensure that it wouldn’t reanimate. As much as I lament putting scientific interests as a secondary priority, survival seemed a valid reason.

It wasn’t long after that that the Everdawn circled back and we boarded. At the time, we had no idea how many survivors were still left in Khefak Depot, or even how many necrobots still roamed the streets. That would be a concern to raise after we had dealt with the two fighters still chasing after our ship.

Player's Notes: This session sure ended up being a roller coaster of emotions! We started dire, then when Astrea ran past the sniper just in time to tell him he's looking the wrong way as Meved dashed through the dissipating steam, then going after each one hitting them with the ol' harrying fire + helpful telepath combo as Meved's evolution points just kept increasing his damage... And then Vinu getting downed on the other side of the map because she went on a solo flank, then Yaro blitzing across the open parking lot to get her while Meved and Astrea kept wiping stuff, all culminating in that last necrobot getting a crit on his last attack, bringing Yaro down while he had no Resolve left... Never mind the skill challenge to save Riddle or the "I can't believe it's not Mr. Torgue" giant missile moment...

Lots of highs and lows. But, we ended on us hitting level 7, and that means some fun new options are coming our way! I for one am looking forward to being able to reliably land harrying fire shots from here on out, and saving my resolve for casts of "Edit Code". But we won't really get to enjoy all of our new toys just yet because ship combat is up next.

Also, emotional heart to heart with Yaro after this fight is done is all but assured at this point.

...I'll stop now. I'm a bit scatterbrained. It's been a long day.


23/06/27 & 23/07/10 - Sessions 60 & 61 - Scoldings, Scholars, Snakes, and Snares
Toilday, 15th Kuthona, Archive of Redacted Histories, Warlock Island

As might be expected of a vault of carefully guarded secrets, the Archive of Redacted Histories was not without its protections. The Hellknights at the gate sought to repel us. I saw to it that they ended their watch with all of the honour befitting their station, and therefore offered no mercy. They may rest knowing that they stood without hesitation in the face of their properly ordained oblivion.

Next were the magical traps. Mister Kezax and Paraduke Kennari were kind enough to ensure that they would not impede our progress, though I confess that I did incur one of them of my own volition. Truth be told, the impact was not especially noteworthy, but this too is not surprising, when I am blessed with the Divine Order’s protection.

Our first infiltration was to the western archive, a small wing with which Paraduke Kennari was familiar from a previous visitation. The cultists that maintained this wing were quick to oppose us, though as might be expected they lacked the wherewithal to hold back our Righteous Purpose. I impressed upon a single remaining clerk our goals, and though he was recalcitrant at first, we restored his tongue and persuaded him that offering the information was the best course of action. He eventually understood that our mandate superceded his, and kindly informed us that we might find the tomes we sought within the “Library of Baal”.

Truth be told, the restoration of his tongue was not perfect, so this may have been misspoken, as I cannot imagine to what ends a temple in service to the Lord of the Fifth would so honour the Seventh. Then again, such mysteries are at the very core of Geryon’s faith, so perhaps there is a truth there to which I have not yet become privy.

In any case, once we had seen to the ashing of the western wing and its caretakers, we focused our attentions on the central structure. After bypassing some additional magical disincentivisers, we were met by a troupe of osyluths. Their tactic was a combination of frozen walls and illusions thereof to separate us. A clever tactic, to be sure, but a futile one in light of their adversaries, as none of my companions is anything less than a fearsome entity of Justice even on their own.

As it happened, this proved to be a useful opportunity for me to test the gauntlets granted to me by Lictor Ountor. The right gauntlet’s dismissal magic proved a useful tool with which to send away one of the guardians. In doing so, I received the distinct impression that the devil was sent to the steps of Heaven, which seemed to me a fitting recognition of the relationship between the Outer Planes as pieces of the Grander Order. Perhaps this particular manifestation was a form of acknowledgement that the Godclaw’s philosophies and my understanding of the Truth are indeed aligned. If so, it is a wonderful affirmation!

Bone devils are mighty and respectable entities, but just as the guardians of these secrets must, they succumbed to our combined will. While investigating the many parchments in the room, we acquired some tools that may be repurposed, and incinerated what remained, as is our task. I confess that I found myself wondering for the briefest of moments if the defences of the Archive were lacking. Of course, I quickly disabused myself of the notion. If this task is easy, it is because the Divine Order wills it so. After all, it would not do for our resources to be needlessly depleted while tending to our fellow followers of the Path.

The next two chambers were of note for the defences they presented to us. The first was insidious, and would only become evident later. The second was considerably more overt.

To my recollection, I had not encountered an asura before this journey. As we honour devils for their proximity to the Greatest Lord of the Divine Order, we would do well not to neglect the service of those beneath them. This pair was particularly eager to render service unto their Lord Geryon, as they enveloped us in toxic fumes as soon as we had made our presence known. It may have been a true hindrance, were it not for Paraduke Kennari’s resourcefulness. Once their obfuscation was removed, actually combatting the defenders was made trivial thanks to Mister Kezax’s particularly effective marksmanship.

Would that I could praise Mister Kezax’s skills more often, as they have indeed been invaluable in removing obstacles from our path. In this respect, he and his companion Lady Zylstra have been most useful servants in the cause of the Divine Order. No more did this become apparent as when they revealed their failure to withstand the compulsions set upon them by some trap within the Archives. I merely spoke of resuming our purpose, and they swiftly objected, encouraging that I depart. For a moment, I had believed that they may well have uncovered some concealed mystery that required my departure for it to be revealed. Thankfully, Father Dexsius and the Paraduke were keen enough to identify the manipulations at play.

As I was the sole one to trigger this particular obstacle, I took a moment to wait in contemplation as the others made use of their magical abilities to resolve the situation. I consider this to be a profound message from the Order on the importance of not taking our kobold associates for granted. In time, we have collectively come to rely on Mister Kezax’s talents to open the way, but if we are careless, they may become an obstacle, or worse yet, we may grow complacent. Miss Archie, for all her acute perceptiveness, was often blind to the most obvious of Truths. I must be prudent not to make the same mistake.

To be humbled is not a bad thing from time to time. Though I am the foremost servitor of the Grandest of Designs, a servitor I ultimately remain, a tool meant to execute its purpose. Even the sharpest of swords may grow dull, if not properly maintained. Likewise, the soul and mind cannot be allowed to grow so comfortable with what is, that it can no longer conceive of what could be.

Player's Notes: I ended up saving up to do two sessions in one for this entry, since the first session didn't really have enough for a proper entry. I will say that there was something especially fitting about getting a nat20 on the finishing strike on the last Hellknight at the gate, just as it was for me to get a couple nat1s to notice what was going on after Kezax failed his save against the compulsion and again when Zylstra used Suggestion on Dom to leave the building. I love it when my dice rolls are thematically appropriate!

Besides that, the fights were kind of simple (as is to be expected of a well-built party at level 14, we're steamrolling most things). There was one especially remarkable event that occurred that I now realise I neglected to mention in my journal, and that was Dexsius' insane luck. Yes, that was indeed three nat20s in a row. A shame it ended up being on a random jobber bone devil...

After the little conflict with Kezax, we did end up chatting about inter-party matchups. Dominus, for all his power and abilities, is actually quite weak to stealth characters. His perception is absolute trash and he has no way on his own of getting rid of stealth magic. His only recourse would be to use what few AOEs he has (channel energy and wall of fire, basically), or to use dazzling display a couple times to frighten his foe away. One might expect a martial such as he would have difficulty dealing with a sufficiently prepared caster, but it's funny to think just how easily a decently-built rogue could just demolish him. That said, in a direct conflict he could easily take down any of his companions in two solid full attacks. Everyone has a job, at the end of the day. Therein lies the value of playing as a team!


23/07/03 - Session 22 - Vari-13 Captain’s Log
Fourthday, 3rd Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot, Akiton

-Captain’s log, Arodus 3rd, 322 AG-

Our visit to Khefak Depot has abruptly changed to a combat mission. Though my previous visit to this den of ruins and rubbish had also been fraught with perils, the nature of the dangers we are encountering this time is of a much more dire nature than mere bugs. The necrobots, as we have designated them, have made a surprise attack on the town, exterminating anyone and everything in the area with extreme prejudice.

This included the Everdawn, occupied by myself, as well as Tiberius, Medici, and the ship’s AI, which the crew have taken to calling Vanessa. The Everdawn’s primary contingent was on an away mission on the ground at the time of the attack, and as such was unable to regroup before we found ourselves pursued by two necrobot fighters, small but fearsome adversaries with manoeuvrability and weapons that rival if not exceed our own. Tiberius took the helm while Vanessa was designated to the weapons post. I initially took the position of Captain, as is to be expected, while Madeci took on the responsibilities of Science Officer. However, once we had sustained damage, I took it upon myself to see to the ship’s engineering bay, leaving the musician to the role of maintaining morale as acting Captain.

As the primary stakeholder of this ship, I deemed it my personal responsibility to ensure that the ship’s proprietary “Enigma Core” remain unharmed. From the attacks of the necrobots, I am led to believe that they wish to destroy the core specifically. In the interest of our scientific pursuit and protection of AbadarCorp’s intellectual property, I could not allow this to stand. Fortunately, Tiberius is a pilot of adequate skill, and Vanessa’s targeting systems are the best that credits can buy, though the voice modulation that Tiberius has configured for the system is questionable at best.

Nevertheless, our engagement had not yet been concluded when we were contacted via comms to inform us that our enemies’ weapon systems had a notable cooldown period. As such, we have decided to take advantage of our superior speed to lure them away from the town, bait their attacks, and then double back to retrieve our away team, so that they might further assist us in managing the ship’s systems. The Everdawn’s potential is limited by the current skeleton crew, and I am confident that the addition of our contracted agents will bring out its true potential and swiftly resolve this situation.

At least, they damn well better! It is what I paid them for, after all!

23/07/03 - Session 22 - Astrea’s Journal: Pot Shots and Parking Lots
Fourthday, 3rd Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot, Akiton

While we were dealing with the necrobots at the Admiral’s Snackbar, we caught glimpses of the dogfight taking place overhead. It is more than a little worrying, knowing that the Everdawn is fighting without us. Of the crew, only Tibbers has much of any sort of combat experience, though I’m hoping that Vari and Madeci can manage along with Vanessa, at least until we can find a way to help them…

That is, of course, assuming we can find a way to do that. Soryn noticed that the necrobot fighters pursuing them are slower and have a fairly long cooldown rate on their weapon systems, so he suggested that they fly out of town and double back as a feint so that we might get some time to board the ship and help. It’s a bold strategy, but we’re somewhat lacking in options at the moment.

It’s at about this point that our team split up from Soryn and the Admiral. They went off to clear a landing space in the coliseum, while we decided to make a detour to retrieve Riddle. She responded to my messages, which thankfully means she’s still alive, but I have no idea how long that will last. The necrobots are all over town, and I’m doing my best not to count the number of casualties I’ve seen so far. Even thinking of doing so makes me keenly aware that due to the nature of necrobot weaponry, many of the deceased will be little more than piles of ash, quite easily missed among the dirt and rubble. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, which isn’t really something I can afford.

Our route to Adventures in Junk took us through a parking lot. I hardly recognised the area after all the damage done by the necrobots. I remember thinking in the past that the repurposed junk made the area seem decrepit. That thought feels all the more foolish and condescending when I see it in this ruinous state. There is an unmistakable difference between the product of constructive efforts to make use of available materials, and the product of a destructive conflict. As with many other things I’ve learned in the last few months, my academic understanding of this fact did not prepare me for its practical application. Just like those other lessons, it is one I desperately wish I didn’t have to learn.

Another experience I could have done without is the feeling of absolute dread that comes with seeing a large target on your person. I managed to recognise it as being an operator’s death mark, and immediately rushed for cover. Had I not done so, I would have certainly died. The bullet hole left in the metal panelling I hid behind was mere centimetres away from my cranium. Meved, who charged ahead of us, took enough shots that anyone other than him would have been reduced to a fine mist.

We’re outnumbered and outgunned. I only have a single spell left and I’m cowering behind a small pile of rubble. Meved is barely clinging to life. Soryn and the Admiral aren’t around to help… It is all I can do right now to keep my composure, in the hopes of surviving this ordeal…

Player's Notes: We did a bit of a split for this one. First half was starship combat with our B team, and latter half was back to our party.

Having now played a bit of the starship combat, it's a very front-loaded system that takes a fair bit of getting used to. Certain roles and skills have a lot more to do whereas others really are just a simple skill check, and it had a fair few complications if you don't have the right skills on hand. The fact that our GM once again had unfortunately good luck with rolls meant that we were having a pretty rough time. Maybe the system will grow on me with practice and a stronger crew, but for now I'm kind of lukewarm on it. I felt like I was spending more time doing actions because I had to (namely patching systems due to critical damage) rather than making interesting choices in how to affect the battle. A fair bit of my experience with Starfinder has been a bit like that though...

As for the land fight, yeah not gonna lie, going into another combat with only one spell didn't feel great, and Meved eating two crits in the first round even less so. I'm hoping that Yaro's healing and Vinu's sniping might help to get us back on track, but it's clear that with how tough these enemies are and our luck with dice, this is going to be a very difficult fight...


23/06/06 - Session 21 - Astrea’s Journal: Dread at the Depot
Fourthday, 3rd Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot, Akiton

When I studied anthropology, I naturally was taught a great deal about first encounter scenarios, as well as the concepts of raids and pillages. Though I abhor the idea of violence, especially between sapient creatures, from that privileged position of cool detachment I could at least understand some of the reasons behind these actions. Be it for survival, or the acquisition or protection of important lands and resources, or even as a preemptive strike to dissuade further aggressions… There was a certain objective sense there that I could appreciate, even if I personally had a distaste for it.

If this past month has taught me anything, it’s that it is immensely difficult to maintain a sense of objectivity when you are directly affected by such horrors.

Despite several encounters now, we still are completely ignorant of the necrobot’s intents. I’ve tried to speculate, to understand them through analysis. I’ve recently begun my project to deconstruct their language so that I might find a means to communicate with them. Admittedly, neither they nor we have made any real attempts to interact through any means other than violence… In many ways, we are very much in alignment with a great number of the first encounter horror stories I’ve read about. I remember thinking on many occasions that were I in such a situation, I would have done things differently. We did not.

After seeing the pillars of smoke rise from Khefak Depot, and the eviscerated and disintegrated corpses in the streets, I cannot bring myself to retain my objectivity. I finally understand the fear and hatred so many species must have felt when faced with armed barbarian raiders, or a colonial superpower claiming every territory they can march over…

The necrobots are more advanced militarily and scientifically to us. They grasp technologies that defy our understanding of the properties of the world, and to our perception bend the very nature of reality to their whims. They clearly have an understanding of hierarchies and social reasoning, at least in the context of military strategy. With all of this knowledge, the necrobots ought to have the wisdom to understand how one might peacefully approach an alien nation. Normally, this is where I might infer that they either have an unknown reason that justifies this hostile response, or they are a collection of beings that somehow developed access to these technologies while avoiding or losing a sense of pacifism. Normally, that would be something I would find disconcerting, but still interesting to ponder.

In the face of this devastation, I found myself having difficulty feeling any desire to seek out answers to those questions. Instead, all I found myself caring about was how to get rid of these wretched things before they could hurt anyone else, and how to rescue as many of our people as we can in the process. With this attack, the necrobots inspired feelings in me that defy rationality. I was terrified and disgusted, but most of all I was inconsolably angry.

By the time we had reached the Admiral’s Snackbar, any sort of contemplation of my emotions was well and truly compartmentalised, replaced with the need to defeat the modest force of soldiers, swarms, and commanders assaulting Soryn, the Admiral, and a pair of local security guards. Meved drove directly into the host, crashing into them before joining the battle as only Meved can. Vinu, Yaro and I took point on the other side, blocking the necrobots in and unleashing everything we had to disable and destroy these enemies. Soryn and the Admiral demonstrated martial prowess that one might expect from a pair of disciplined fighters. The guards did what they could, but despite their efforts to fight back and Yaro’s to preserve them, they succumbed to the swarms and lasers in fairly short order.

Had it not been for Yaro’s timely intervention, I would have likely joined them. Even with the adrenaline of my fight or flight response, I am not nearly as well attuned for combat as the others. It only really occurred to me after the fight just how close I came to death when all the pain of my injuries rushed back to me.

By the time the fight was over, we had won, but we had also lost two people. In exchange, I managed to preserve two of the commanders’ electricity throwers. I might have been pleased at this success, had the cost not been so high.

Whatever grief I experienced, I know it was even worse for Yaroslav. Yaro is a doctor, a person who places a great deal of importance on the responsibility he has for safeguarding others, and above all, someone with an immensely compassionate heart. For someone like that, the loss of two people, standing right next to him no less, would take an immense psychological toll. I tried to console him with the fact that he had done all he could, that this was not his fault, and that his efforts would be best placed helping those that remain. It was a cold and rational reassurance. I very much wished I could grieve with him, or express a heartfelt understanding of his feelings, or even give proper thanks for the fact that his actions are the only reason I survived. These are the responses I should have given. However, I suspect that if I had acknowledged any of my own sentiments then, I might have just broken down.

I could not afford to do that while there were still necrobots attacking the town. Not while Riddle and the other residents were still in danger. Not while Tibbers was still madly attempting to dogfight with the necrobot fighters in the Everdawn overhead…

My emotions would just have to wait until after all of that was settled.

Player's Notes: I genuinely got poked by our GM after he read this to check if Astrea is ok. I ended up writing this with the thought in my mind that this was effectively her first experience with a military attack on a civilian settlement. If seeing a bloody fight between Meved and some thugs gave her a panic attack a month ago, I imagined that the senseless loss of life on a scale like this would be ten times worse. The other difference is that now Astrea is trying to suppress her trauma so that she can focus on solving the problem, which isn't exactly healthy either. I expect that at the end of this she's going to have a deeply emotional moment, and from there she'll gradually work her way towards finding the right balance in the face of adverse conditions.

I've gotta say, it's fun exploring the psychology of a character I've known for a decade in a brand new context. That, and rolling the shiny math rocks. I like it when mine land on the big numbers.

Oh, and as promised, my Minecraft rendition of the Everdawn. It's still a work in progress, but I was pretty pleased with the result.


23/06/03 - Sessions 59 - A Conflict of Interests
Toilday, 15th Kuthona, Archive of Redacted Histories, Warlock Island

Much as I might have enjoyed continuing to bask in the radiance of St. Ilnea’s waters, there remains work to be done. Justice and Order cannot be permitted respite when corruption is ever present, after all. Even now, I hear the cries of those poor souls in Westcrown, imprisoned by the heresy of the Reclamation…

We had hoped, especially Father Dexsius, that we might take the time to purify Karash’e’tor’s Razor, and divest it of its abyssal taint. Its grotesquely chaotic attunement aside, it has the potential to be a fearsome weapon. Personally, I would love nothing more than to complete St. Ilnea’s trial and bring an end to that foul demon’s lingering essence. However, the complexities inherent in such a task make it a time consuming process. As such, we will simply hold onto the blade for now, with the intent of addressing it at a later date. I shall keep it secure, but away from my person until such a time that we are ready, as the energies it exudes are offensive to my senses.

Instead, I must focus my thoughts to the acquisition of our final ingredient for the Tathlum: the ashes of history. To this end, Paraduke Kennari was kind enough to supply us with a destination. Prior to this, I had not been aware of the Archive of Redacted Histories, nor of the esoteric Hellknight order that guards it. I’ve come to learn that this shelter of forbidden knowledge existed as a contingency, established by the very first Majestrix to serve the True Infernal Masters. While it might have unsettled me that the existence of the Order of the Glyph was unknown to me, there is no fault in this. If it is their mandate to be unknown, then this is merely proof of their diligence. It is that same diligence I will expect when we encounter them.

I am keenly aware of the implications of our next mission. We are to enter the Archive, secure a few tomes of particular import, and conflagrate the remainder of the knowledge stored within. Such a task is simple, but puts us in direct opposition to the Hellknights of the Glyph. While some of my companions have a desire to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, and I commend them for this altruistic sensibility, I also recognise it to be futile. It is our divinely ordained mission to destroy the knowledge they have been ordained to protect. For them to permit us entry would be a dereliction of their duty! No, it is clear that only death will satisfy the honour of all parties. It is regrettable, but I take solace in the fact that Lord Geryon of the Fifth will certainly accept its loyal servitors, and they in turn will bolster their Master with the secrets they have so diligently kept. They shall be proud to know that the words they guarded will burn, exposed to none save the Flames of Order.

Player's Notes: What do you know, after more than half a year, our Hell's Vengeance game has finally resumed! There were a lot of logistical and interpersonal complications to finally get this one back up and running again, but I'm glad we did. It would have been a shame for our journey to end so close to the finish line.

This session ended up being quite short, as most of the time was spent trying to remember how to play our characters, and general chatting. As such, the journal itself is a brief one. There was a single combat we did at the front steps of the Archive, though I excluded that since there wasn't much to say, save perhaps acknowledge the simply crazy amount of crits our party dished out. I think I counted five nat20s in one and a half rounds of combat, including Tayapket landing two nat 20s in a row (critting, and then confirming the crit). Even the non nat 20s were all consistently high rolls, and the ones that weren't were for things with such high modifiers that it didn't matter. Having Dom hit a home run on a Hellknight's head with his mace (143 damage on a severely wounded enemy, for the record) reminded me of why I missed playing him. It's been a long time since I got to feel the sense of being the damage dealer.

Anyway, I should be resuming this batch more regularly again. In celebration, I updated the Google Doc's formatting and even added some character images for reference. Hope anyone who might be reading this enjoys!


23/05/23 - Session 20 - Astrea’s Journal: Where It All Started
Fourthday, 3rd Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot, Akiton

The last time we were in the Stellar Flare, it was not in the best of states. Even before our impromptu standoff against the True Warriors, centuries of neglect following the ship’s crash meant that the hull was structurally questionable at best. I distinctly remember mourning over just how much was unsalvageable, nearly as much as I was surprised by how many things still functioned (and how most of those things were of a lethal variety).

With our second visit, I was surprised once again, but this time for a different reason.

The reconstruction of the Stellar Flare was almost frighteningly impressive. While I don’t have the original schematics to compare, based on what I had already witnessed, the ship appeared to have been restored almost perfectly to its original factory specifications (missing half notwithstanding). I do not say factory specifications lightly, for that matter. The interior of the ship was devoid of any extraneous features, and by that I really do mean any. All that remained were floors, walls, doors, and ceilings. Previously, the Stellar Flare was littered with debris, broken terminals, malfunctioning security systems, shattered glass, damaged furniture, and what was likely enough tetanus samples to satisfy the Arcanamirium’s immunology department for the next decade. This time, the interior was so thoroughly emptied and sterilised that we could have conducted surgery on the hallway floor (which fortunately did not turn out to be something that was required).

Based on a cursory microlab analysis of the insectoid microbots and some samples of the Stellar Flare, I believe it is valid to conclude that those creatures were responsible for the repairs. Much like every other tech associated with the necrobots, their capabilities far surpass anything I have witnessed. Between their restorative technology and the Enigma Core, I find myself wondering what other proverbial philosopher’s stone of technological advancement the necrobots might be in possession of. The positive impacts they could have if they applied their tech constructively are astronomical, so much so that it makes it all the more heartbreaking that their only interests so far have been of a hostile nature…

Speaking of, the Stellar Flare was not entirely emptied. In fact, the Enigma Core’s room proved to be more occupied than any of us might have cared for. In addition to a couple scarab swarms and a small company of rifle-wielding necrobots, there were also two individuals with distinct appearances that led me to believe they were of a minor commanding rank. The Enigma Core, for that matter, had distinct modifications to it, though I was unable to make a full assessment of the extent of those modifications in the moment.

Even more shocking than the necrobot’s use of traditional military command chains was the fact that the officers spoke! Prior to this encounter, the necrobots had not to my knowledge expressed any sort of communicative capabilities. As one might have expected, the couple of sentences the officers uttered were not in a language I was familiar with, but I’ve studied the idiosyncrasies of enough forms of communication to be able to at least infer the probable meaning. By my estimations, one officer said to the other, “go back, we’ll handle things here”. This alone will not be enough to decipher their tongue, but it’s a start. I’ve made a point to document the words I could remember phonetically, so as to start the creation of a decryption key. With enough snippets, we might yet be able to understand the necrobots, which could open up a great number of avenues to us moving forward.

Following through with my understanding of the officer’s orders, the other officer and some of the necrobot riflemen travelled through the Enigma Core while the remaining necrobot soldiers turned to fight us. The use of the Core as a transportation device is something I considered to be within the realm of possibility, considering our newfound understanding of the inherent portal technology at play. Given the cautious way in which the necrobots safeguard their technology, I suppose it should have come to no surprise that the officer’s first priority was to sabotage the machine. As frustrated as I might have been with that turn of events, there wasn’t much we could do to halt them, save to kill them first, and as we are well aware by now, necrobots are very hard to kill. In fact, I came to learn in this fight that in addition to their myriad of defensive properties, they are also immune to the concept of fear. I say this while accounting for their mechanical nature, as this is a property I am otherwise able to bypass. This seems an odd redundancy, but given their inherently frightening nature, perhaps this is a psychological immunity generated by overexposure, or intentionally included as a defence mechanism against themselves.

We prioritised the (heavily armed) officer. Fortunately, it was better at dealing damage than receiving it, and our experience in dealing with necrobots made it a comparatively quick fight. Less fortunately, I attempted to disrupt the magical energy to keep its rather impressive weapon from disintegrating, but was unsuccessful. I made up for that by dismantling the remaining riflemen’s weapon use protocols, which adjusted their accuracy to what one might expect from the generic soldiers of a fictional evil intergalactic empire.

The scarab swarms were a more problematic element, due largely to just how distracting it can be to be covered in them. Even if we had not encountered them outside of the Stellar Flare moments earlier, being a Castrovellian Lashunta, I have at least some basic education on the dangers and tactics of swarm-like insectoid creatures. I determined that the scarabs exhibited no form of intelligence beyond seeking the nearest organic lifeform and attacking it in the most direct manner possible. I used this fact to our advantage and drew them towards me for as long as I could while the others finished off the remaining riflemen. In retrospect, it was a very dangerous, but ultimately successful gambit, and not one I wish to attempt again anytime soon. I now have the distinct displeasure of being able to add “being nearly eaten alive by robot insects” to my list of personal experiences that I never expected nor desired to have. I cannot say that I would ever recommend it, save perhaps to a follower of Zon Kuthon, though even then, I might suggest one proceed with caution.

After a final barrage of explosives and fully automatic weaponry, the room was secure enough for us to tend to our wounds and investigate the modified Enigma Core. The damage dealt by the officer made it very difficult to reverse engineer their exact modifications, though it was easy enough to tell that the result was a significantly increased power input and an expanded containment field. This would explain its earlier application as a teleportation device. Scientifically, this is as fascinating as it is militarily terrifying, as this form of rapid transportation suggests a mobilisation capacity that could far exceed our own.

In addition to a slightly greater understanding of the engineering applications of an Enigma Core, I was also able to salvage a small fragment of necrobot technology. From a cursory analysis, I cannot ascertain any practical use for it, but I am hoping that further study will change that. We concluded our visit by completing our original intended objective, that being to shut down what was remaining of the Stellar Flare’s Enigma Core.

Unbeknownst to me (which admittedly came as some surprise, though I find myself becoming increasingly desensitised to the necrobots subverting my expectations), the Enigma Core was apparently also functioning as a long-range signal jammer, preventing any contact between us and Khefak Depot. We learned this because as soon as we deactivated it, our comm units revealed several urgent attempts to contact us. The first messages didn’t provide much in the way of details about what had transpired, but it was evident enough that it was nothing positive…

Player's Notes: In case anyone is wondering, why yes, I did happen to roll a nat 20 on Culture (which incidentally is Astrea's second highest skill after Life Science; which you probably wouldn't think considering how often she ends up stuck as the team's engineering expert) to decipher what the necrobots were saying. I have a strange habit of rolling 20s on the most narratively appropriate times. It is a gift I quite enjoy.

This ended up being a pretty short session that consisted almost entirely of a combat encounter. This was the first time Meved and Yaro really got to test out their new builds, and I can honestly say the Evolutionist is kind of terrifying when put into the hands of an experienced Barbarian player, and a well placed line gun is definitely nothing to sneeze at.

It became clear after a point that my actions would be best served keeping the swarms at bay while maybe using my enhanced communalism to ensure that their hits landed. I'm glad to see Astrea finding a niche for herself in combat as a support character, considering how limited spells can be in this system. I intend to take Unionist to really double down on her "Make sure our DPS hits and theirs doesn't" angle.

That being said, I'm also really eager to see what Starfinder Enhanced will bring as far as options go. I can't wait for October to roll around!

Oh and unrelated to this, but if anyone reading this cared about my Hell's Vengeance game, well, I have some good news! There'll be an update to that real soon (we already played the session; I just need to write the entry)...


23/05/20 - Session 19 - Astrea’s Journal: Return to Khefak Depot
Fourthday, 3rd Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot

We chose the name “Everdawn” for our ship for a few reasons. The “Ever” component is an allusion to the original intent of studying what I am now calling the Enigma Core: a potentially infinite source of energy. This was also a hidden reference to Vari-8, the original scientist working on the Enigma Core (8 rotated 90 degrees is an infinity symbol; I thought it was a clever detail). As for “Dawn”, Yaro gets principle credit for that element. In addition to being a reference to his patron deity Sarenrae (also known as the Dawnflower), it also alludes to the ship’s primary weapons system: a heavy solar cannon. I am quite pleased with our naming scheme for the ship. It evokes a certain beauty and hopefulness that seems appropriate for our mission. Would that its appearance matched that messaging…

I only know of vermeliths from textbooks and video-documentaries (and in this particular instance, I am all too happy for that to remain the case), though it is a well-documented fact that their carapace makes for an excellent starship frame. Their natural resistance to electromagnetic, gravitational, and radioactive energies are valuable defensive properties, especially in light of the dangers we might face. From a purely academic standpoint, our choice to use one as the base of our ship was a logical one. Still, I cannot entirely get over the fact that the Everdawn does appear, in a very literal sense, monstrous. Perhaps it is a fault in my personal aesthetic sensibilities that I will eventually overcome, but for the time being I do feel a degree of unease at the idea of navigating through space in a giant worm carcass.

At least the outer aesthetics were not also incorporated into the interior of the vessel. Being the most familiar with starships, Yaro and Meved saw to most of the Everdawn’s design based on our team’s requirements, though Vinu and I did contribute to the overall layout. The general distribution is simple and I would think relatively standard: navigation and overall command occupies the top level, while crew quarters and general needs are covered by the middle level, and finally cargo and engineering occupy the lowest level. The Enigma Core is housed in a dedicated subsection of engineering, further reinforced and isolated for safety purposes. We thought it would be best to make sure not to repeat the mistakes made on the Stellar Flare. The last thing we would want is a necrobot emerging from the Enigma Core and having full access to the remainder of the ship.

Though the Everdawn is primarily a research vessel, we made a point to include at least a few recreational features. We are likely to be spending weeks to even months at a time on the ship, so we invested a bit more to ensure that we would all have comfortable lodgings with personal hygiene facilities. The hydroponic garden also ought to allow us the means to keep ourselves fed with something other than dehydrated nutrient paste, which is a very welcome addition. The holographic amusement chamber was another surprise. I’ve had the pleasure of using a HAC at the university, though it was limited to a few preprogrammed settings. I look forward to seeing how I might program this one for optimal reading environments…

The last notable addition that we made was the inclusion of a virtual intelligence. VIs are common both at the Arcanamirium and among the various universities on Castrovel, so it is not as though I am unfamiliar with them, but much like the school HACs, the university VIs were always a little lacklustre. Naturally, we will all have to come to some sort of agreement regarding the personality we will configure it with, though I’ve taken the liberty of looking up a catalogue and configuration guide to help us with that process. Crafting our virtual crewmate will no doubt occupy a fair amount of my leisure time for the next few months.

In the interest of records-keeping, I’ve included the floorplan schematics for the ship in this journal. These exclude sensitive data, so their inclusion shouldn’t pose any security risks.

Upper Level
Middle Level
Lower Level

Setting aside the Everdawn for a moment, I was able to conduct some further investigations into the unique energy signatures we’ve identified in both the Enigma Core and Veronica. Though our initial hypothesis was that the energy was originally tied to the Drift, that is seeming less and less likely. Yaro proposed his own theory from a more spiritual perspective, that this form of teleportation may be the product of a wildly different interpretation of the Signal (the message delivered by Triune that revealed the secrets behind Drift engine technology). There is perhaps some validity to that idea. After all, I see no reason that the Signal could not have been broadcast to a plane or dimension beyond the scope of our awareness, and it would not be unreasonable to assume that such a plane might have a different understanding of the physics involved. If this is in fact true, it would raise a myriad of very interesting questions.

Another key factor to this mystery lies in the focusing crystals. While we were able to reproduce the Enigma Core with familiar materials, it clearly lacks the efficiency of a device like Veronica. Vari proposed repurposing Veronica’s crystal for our research, until such a time that we can find or create one ourselves. There is an aspect of uncertainty that I don’t like in this approach. By adding in an element we don’t fully understand, we are creating several unknown variables. However, I cannot deny that it also has a chance of greatly accelerating our progress. Seeing as Veronica already has only a limited number of uses remaining, we agreed that it might be best to move forward with that idea, though not before discharging one last shot from the gun, this time thoroughly measured.

I gave Tibbers the honour of firing the last shot, and even acquired some of the nuclear engineering department’s waste as a target; it does seem, after all, to be an effective means of safely disposing of such materials. By looking at every filter on every conceivable scanner I could requisition from the Arcanamirium, we determined conclusively that the signature is not Drift energy. It didn’t correspond to any other energy signatures we could detect either. That being said, by identifying the trace energies generated as a byproduct of the effect, I was able to use a subtraction method to create a sort of detection model. Much like that one Veskarium holovid explaining guided missile technology, we will be able to identify instances of this mystery energy because we’ll know what it isn’t.

With that, we exhausted the resources I could muster at the Arcanamirium for the time being (I’ve already had to call in several favours to borrow such a large quantity of lab equipment at once without divulging the full nature of my research). We collectively decided that our next step should be returning to Akiton to reinvestigate and also deactivate the original Enigma Core on the Stellar Flare (just in case it might be functioning as a beacon to the necrobots). We also opted to use sub-light travel for the journey. The justification for that choice is simple: I don’t believe any of us are eager to potentially relive the Kagekumo incident.

Upon our arrival, Soryn went to visit his old war buddy at The Admiral’s Snackbar, while Vari, Tibbers, and Madeci remained on the Everdawn. The rest of us set out on the mission proper.

It may have simply been relief to find that it had not been destroyed by a sudden necrobot invasion, but it was oddly comforting to find that Khefak Depot had not changed significantly in the couple of months since our last visit. Well, that is not entirely accurate. The town seems to have embraced goblins and ikeshtis as part of their general populace, which could certainly be counted as a significant alteration. I would be very interested to conduct a thorough study of the sociocultural influences such a large and sudden migration has had, though such an investigation would have to wait until our primary objective was complete.

Prior to our departure back into the Outer Junkfields, we made a stop at O’Toole’s weapon depot so that Meved might acquire the free bandolier of grenades he earned with his loyalty points (that store’s business model continues to baffle me), and then at Adventures in Junk to visit our friend Riddle. The visit was short and consisted mostly of us summarising the harrowing incident of our previous departure. I feel bad about dropping such terrifying news on Riddle’s proverbial lap, but it seemed important that she be aware for her own safety. I fully intend to take a moment to catch up properly after we check up on the Stellar Flare. Almost as soon as we landed, I felt an uncomfortable sense that it was necessary we make our way there sooner rather than later.

As luck would have it, Riddle had preserved the motorcycles we reclaimed from the True Warriors, so we were able to make the journey quickly. Vinu had such a difficulty containing her excitement that she simply didn’t, and promptly rode off before we even confirmed that we had Riddle’s permission to use them. It is fortunate that Riddle was so understanding of our resident pahtra’s excitability, or that might have been an awkward situation. Nevertheless, with Riddle’s blessing, we set off on the two remaining bikes. Yaro, despite his newfound vision, had not completed any vehicle training as of yet, so he rode along with me, which was a perfectly cosy experience.

Our arrival into the midzone came with a few surprises. The first was that it appeared to have been abandoned, which could have been explained by the former residents migrating to Khefak Depot (at least, this is what I hope to be the explanation, and I have seen no indication to the contrary as of yet). The second was that the wreck of the Stellar Flare was considerably more intact than it was when we left it. I barely had a moment to examine the repairs before the likely cause manifested itself and we were attacked by several small swarms of scarab-like microbots. The surprise attack was the third surprise, incidentally.

These robots bore many familiar necrobot traits, though rather than regenerating, they appeared to instead manually repair each other, which leads me to believe that they are perhaps a larger iteration of the nanobots that induce the necrobot regeneration we’ve witnessed. They also didn’t disintegrate upon death, which allowed me to collect a few samples (I did not dare try to capture one alive, as I doubted that I had an effective means to contain it). Overall, they were still a threat (I personally was scratched and bit several times, though fortunately it was nothing Yaro couldn’t fix), but not a significant one. Most of our weapons were not particularly effective, save for grenades, but we had an abundance of those. Yaro’s new disintegrator cannon also did wonders at clearing the bots away, while Meved’s new augmentations seemed to make him more resilient than ever before.

Despite this initial success, I worry that this is an omen of what we might yet find within the Stellar Flare…

Player's Notes: Yep, two posts for the price of one! We were supposed to resurrect our Hell's Vengeance game on Saturday, but a miscommunication left us GM-less, so we pivoted to an improvised Starfinder game instead. Props to our GM for coming in clutch with an on the spot session.

I had a lot of fun setting up the ship's layout. I actually did that on a page of our loot document (just set all the row and column lengths to 30). It's amazing what graph tools can do. I'm not also in the process of building the entire thing in Minecraft because I'm a maniac. I'll be sure to include some images in a future journal post when it's done.


23/05/20 - Session 19 - Astrea’s Journal: Return to Khefak Depot
Fourthday, 3rd Arodus, 322 AG, Khefak Depot

We chose the name “Everdawn” for our ship for a few reasons. The “Ever” component is an allusion to the original intent of studying what I am now calling the Enigma Core: a potentially infinite source of energy. This was also a hidden reference to Vari-8, the original scientist working on the Enigma Core (8 rotated 90 degrees is an infinity symbol; I thought it was a clever detail). As for “Dawn”, Yaro gets principle credit for that element. In addition to being a reference to his patron deity Sarenrae (also known as the Dawnflower), it also alludes to the ship’s primary weapons system: a heavy solar cannon. I am quite pleased with our naming scheme for the ship. It evokes a certain beauty and hopefulness that seems appropriate for our mission. Would that its appearance matched that messaging…

I only know of vermeliths from textbooks and video-documentaries (and in this particular instance, I am all too happy for that to remain the case), though it is a well-documented fact that their carapace makes for an excellent starship frame. Their natural resistance to electromagnetic, gravitational, and radioactive energies are valuable defensive properties, especially in light of the dangers we might face. From a purely academic standpoint, our choice to use one as the base of our ship was a logical one. Still, I cannot entirely get over the fact that the Everdawn does appear, in a very literal sense, monstrous. Perhaps it is a fault in my personal aesthetic sensibilities that I will eventually overcome, but for the time being I do feel a degree of unease at the idea of navigating through space in a giant worm carcass.

At least the outer aesthetics were not also incorporated into the interior of the vessel. Being the most familiar with starships, Yaro and Meved saw to most of the Everdawn’s design based on our team’s requirements, though Vinu and I did contribute to the overall layout. The general distribution is simple and I would think relatively standard: navigation and overall command occupies the top level, while crew quarters and general needs are covered by the middle level, and finally cargo and engineering occupy the lowest level. The Enigma Core is housed in a dedicated subsection of engineering, further reinforced and isolated for safety purposes. We thought it would be best to make sure not to repeat the mistakes made on the Stellar Flare. The last thing we would want is a necrobot emerging from the Enigma Core and having full access to the remainder of the ship.

Though the Everdawn is primarily a research vessel, we made a point to include at least a few recreational features. We are likely to be spending weeks to even months at a time on the ship, so we invested a bit more to ensure that we would all have comfortable lodgings with personal hygiene facilities. The hydroponic garden also ought to allow us the means to keep ourselves fed with something other than dehydrated nutrient paste, which is a very welcome addition. The holographic amusement chamber was another surprise. I’ve had the pleasure of using a HAC at the university, though it was limited to a few preprogrammed settings. I look forward to seeing how I might program this one for optimal reading environments…

The last notable addition that we made was the inclusion of a virtual intelligence. VIs are common both at the Arcanamirium and among the various universities on Castrovel, so it is not as though I am unfamiliar with them, but much like the school HACs, the university VIs were always a little lacklustre. Naturally, we will all have to come to some sort of agreement regarding the personality we will configure it with, though I’ve taken the liberty of looking up a catalogue and configuration guide to help us with that process. Crafting our virtual crewmate will no doubt occupy a fair amount of my leisure time for the next few months.

In the interest of records-keeping, I’ve included the floorplan schematics for the ship in this journal. These exclude sensitive data, so their inclusion shouldn’t pose any security risks.

Upper Level
Middle Level
Lower Level

Setting aside the Everdawn for a moment, I was able to conduct some further investigations into the unique energy signatures we’ve identified in both the Enigma Core and Veronica. Though our initial hypothesis was that the energy was originally tied to the Drift, that is seeming less and less likely. Yaro proposed his own theory from a more spiritual perspective, that this form of teleportation may be the product of a wildly different interpretation of the Signal (the message delivered by Triune that revealed the secrets behind Drift engine technology). There is perhaps some validity to that idea. After all, I see no reason that the Signal could not have been broadcast to a plane or dimension beyond the scope of our awareness, and it would not be unreasonable to assume that such a plane might have a different understanding of the physics involved. If this is in fact true, it would raise a myriad of very interesting questions.

Another key factor to this mystery lies in the focusing crystals. While we were able to reproduce the Enigma Core with familiar materials, it clearly lacks the efficiency of a device like Veronica. Vari proposed repurposing Veronica’s crystal for our research, until such a time that we can find or create one ourselves. There is an aspect of uncertainty that I don’t like in this approach. By adding in an element we don’t fully understand, we are creating several unknown variables. However, I cannot deny that it also has a chance of greatly accelerating our progress. Seeing as Veronica already has only a limited number of uses remaining, we agreed that it might be best to move forward with that idea, though not before discharging one last shot from the gun, this time thoroughly measured.

I gave Tibbers the honour of firing the last shot, and even acquired some of the nuclear engineering department’s waste as a target; it does seem, after all, to be an effective means of safely disposing of such materials. By looking at every filter on every conceivable scanner I could requisition from the Arcanamirium, we determined conclusively that the signature is not Drift energy. It didn’t correspond to any other energy signatures we could detect either. That being said, by identifying the trace energies generated as a byproduct of the effect, I was able to use a subtraction method to create a sort of detection model. Much like that one Veskarium holovid explaining guided missile technology, we will be able to identify instances of this mystery energy because we’ll know what it isn’t.

With that, we exhausted the resources I could muster at the Arcanamirium for the time being (I’ve already had to call in several favours to borrow such a large quantity of lab equipment at once without divulging the full nature of my research). We collectively decided that our next step should be returning to Akiton to reinvestigate and also deactivate the original Enigma Core on the Stellar Flare (just in case it might be functioning as a beacon to the necrobots). We also opted to use sub-light travel for the journey. The justification for that choice is simple: I don’t believe any of us are eager to potentially relive the Kagekumo incident.

Upon our arrival, Soryn went to visit his old war buddy at The Admiral’s Snackbar, while Vari, Tibbers, and Madeci remained on the Everdawn. The rest of us set out on the mission proper.

It may have simply been relief to find that it had not been destroyed by a sudden necrobot invasion, but it was oddly comforting to find that Khefak Depot had not changed significantly in the couple of months since our last visit. Well, that is not entirely accurate. The town seems to have embraced goblins and ikeshtis as part of their general populace, which could certainly be counted as a significant alteration. I would be very interested to conduct a thorough study of the sociocultural influences such a large and sudden migration has had, though such an investigation would have to wait until our primary objective was complete.

Prior to our departure back into the Outer Junkfields, we made a stop at O’Toole’s weapon depot so that Meved might acquire the free bandolier of grenades he earned with his loyalty points (that store’s business model continues to baffle me), and then at Adventures in Junk to visit our friend Riddle. The visit was short and consisted mostly of us summarising the harrowing incident of our previous departure. I feel bad about dropping such terrifying news on Riddle’s proverbial lap, but it seemed important that she be aware for her own safety. I fully intend to take a moment to catch up properly after we check up on the Stellar Flare. Almost as soon as we landed, I felt an uncomfortable sense that it was necessary we make our way there sooner rather than later.

As luck would have it, Riddle had preserved the motorcycles we reclaimed from the True Warriors, so we were able to make the journey quickly. Vinu had such a difficulty containing her excitement that she simply didn’t, and promptly rode off before we even confirmed that we had Riddle’s permission to use them. It is fortunate that Riddle was so understanding of our resident pahtra’s excitability, or that might have been an awkward situation. Nevertheless, with Riddle’s blessing, we set off on the two remaining bikes. Yaro, despite his newfound vision, had not completed any vehicle training as of yet, so he rode along with me, which was a perfectly cosy experience.

Our arrival into the midzone came with a few surprises. The first was that it appeared to have been abandoned, which could have been explained by the former residents migrating to Khefak Depot (at least, this is what I hope to be the explanation, and I have seen no indication to the contrary as of yet). The second was that the wreck of the Stellar Flare was considerably more intact than it was when we left it. I barely had a moment to examine the repairs before the likely cause manifested itself and we were attacked by several small swarms of scarab-like microbots. The surprise attack was the third surprise, incidentally.

These robots bore many familiar necrobot traits, though rather than regenerating, they appeared to instead manually repair each other, which leads me to believe that they are perhaps a larger iteration of the nanobots that induce the necrobot regeneration we’ve witnessed. They also didn’t disintegrate upon death, which allowed me to collect a few samples (I did not dare try to capture one alive, as I doubted that I had an effective means to contain it). Overall, they were still a threat (I personally was scratched and bit several times, though fortunately it was nothing Yaro couldn’t fix), but not a significant one. Most of our weapons were not particularly effective, save for grenades, but we had an abundance of those. Yaro’s new disintegrator cannon also did wonders at clearing the bots away, while Meved’s new augmentations seemed to make him more resilient than ever before.

Despite this initial success, I worry that this is an omen of what we might yet find within the Stellar Flare…

Player's Notes: Yep, two posts for the price of one! We were supossed to resurrect our Hell's Vengeance game on Saturday, but a miscommunication left us GM-less, so we pivoted to an improvised Starfinder game instead. Props to our GM for coming in clutch with an on the spot session.

I had a lot of fun setting up the ship's layout. I actually did that on a page of our loot document (just set all the row and column lengths to 30). It's amazing what graph tools can do. I'm not also in the process of building the entire thing in Minecraft because I'm a maniac. I'll be sure to include some images in a future journal post when it's done.


23/05/17 - Session 18 - Astrea’s Journal: Quiet Nights Before the Everdawn
Sixthday, 29th Erastus, 322 AG, Absalom Station

When I consider my previous commentary on time dilation (from while we were exploring the wastes of Khefak Depot’s Outer Junkfields), I have to wonder if the last month and two thirds (approximately) have been some sort of cosmic rebalancing of that phenomenon. I feel as though the days since we’ve returned to Absalom Station have progressed in the proverbial blink of an eye. What’s more likely is that this distortion is simply a cognitive illusion brought on by the relative intensity of our circumstances. That is to say, time flies when you aren’t in near constant imminent mortal danger.

That being said, the time since our group returned to Absalom Station has been far from idle.

Perhaps the first and most noteworthy event was Yaro’s request to craft and install a pair of ocular implants. I suppose it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, as I did offer to provide assistance, and he genuinely seemed to be leaning towards seeking out a cure for his blindness… Still, it did strike me as odd that he entrusted me not only with their creation, but also their installation. It’s not as though I don’t have the necessary training to conduct bio-technological interfacing surgeries (I do), but I am not exactly a surgeon by trade…

Creating the eyes ended up being quite a fun endeavour. Yaro only requested that I keep the eyes aesthetically true to those of a natural vlaka, so I made them a stunning shade of pale blue. I also took the liberty of including sensors beyond the common spectrums of visible light. It seemed only logical that if Yaro feared that his lack of vision might impede his ability to support others, I should ensure that his vision would never be lacking in any capacity.

As for the actual surgery… Extracting Yaro’s vestigial eyes was as unsettling as one might imagine plucking your closest friend’s eyeballs might be. They didn’t exactly come out smoothly, which I attribute mostly to my own nerves. Thankfully the only thing damaged was one of the already nonfunctioning eyes. The installation process went a lot more smoothly, and Yaro didn’t ask to look at his old eyes, so any evidence of my miscalculation is now fully expunged [Editing note: Remove mentions of this detail, just in case Yaro ever reads this].

I couldn’t help but feel a warmth at seeing Yaro using my creations. Entrusting one’s senses to another requires a great deal of faith in them, so I was genuinely elated to have achieved such spectacular results. I will confess to a certain degree of pride in my work as well. Yaro has always been a handsome individual, in a rugged canid sort of way, and I am of the (admittedly somewhat biassed) opinion that the striking effect of the implants complement his visage quite well. My initial surprise at his new gaze resulted in me completely missing an opportunity to ask him his opinion of my own appearance, as the first person he’d ever seen. I am a little disappointed that the notion evaded me; I’d have been curious to know his thoughts… Purely for academic purposes, of course.

The success with Yaro’s implants persuaded me to continue with some other crafting tasks. One could say that he got the (eye)ball rolling, and as an object in motion is predisposed to stay in motion, so too did I continue with my momentum. With Yaro’s assistance and the funds gained from our recent adventure, I generated a few new tools to help us, should we find ourselves in dangerous situations once again (a likely outcome, I suspect). For myself, I took advantage of the Arcanamirium’s easy access to hybrid technology to boost my mental faculties and to improve my magical synergy. I also built myself a new weapon better suited to both administering serums and fighting necrobots, should the need arise. Yaro and Meved paid me visits as well for assistance with a few upgrades of their own, though in Meved’s case his evolutionary adaptations already did most of the work.

Meved’s biotech transformations remain an anomaly. Over the course of my observation, the rate at which his ursine physiology has adapted to the advanced technological elements inside him is truly astounding. I remain of the opinion that this is in some large capacity due to his inherent genetic malleability as an uplifted creature, though I cannot help but wonder if there are any other factors at play. For now, I am allowing myself to be satisfied with the fact that Meved is fully embracing his technologically augmented status without compromising his psychological profile. That said, I do wish he would compromise on accepting the living quarters the university alloted for him in exchange for his collaboration as a research subject. His obstinancy in continuing to claim a particular bench in Jatembe Park as his den has caused no small amount of complications with local law enforcement…

Speaking of law enforcement, another task Yaro and I set ourselves on was Tibbers’ release. Yaro spoke to the priests at the Sarenite temple, who are known to assist with rehabilitation initiatives, while I spoke to Soryn to see if the Stewards could provide any assistance. Fortunately, our connections were potent, and Tibbers found himself released as a provisionary member of the Stewards without even a trial. Despite taking the time to prepare a testimony, that may have been for the best, as even I would have had difficulty rebuking his many faults. I’ve taken advantage of Meved’s unused residency to shelter the former pirate until such a time that his bail is repaid in full. While I did warn him not to try anything questionable during his time at the Arcanamirium, the majority of the students and professors are capable technomancers, so that warning was more for his safety than theirs.

In exchange for my hospitality (and mostly because I didn’t offer Tibbers an opportunity to object), I took a few dedicated weeks to conduct a second more thorough round of inspections of Veronica, this time with the assistance of one of my senior professors. Despite numerous hours of testing with some of the Pact World’s most advanced equipment, the data we uncovered was once again frustratingly limited. We were at least able to determine a few details regarding the weapon’s method of generating energy, however. Contrary to my original understanding, the symbiotic link with a wielder isn’t so much a means of generating energy as it is a breaker on the circuits that allows the device to trigger. The actual flow of power comes in the form of an energy output spontaneously materialised through a gate-like mechanism, which is then filtered through a focusing crystal of unidentifiable composition to turn the energy into a molecular destabilisation beam. In layman’s terms, the gun teleports an unknown energy type and sends it through a mystery rock to turn it into a laser that breaks things down at the atomic level.

We still don’t know where the portal is linked to, what the energy is, or what the crystal is made of exactly, as these details continue to defy conventional measurement techniques, but it’s a start. This unique form of teleportation could explain the sudden appearance of the necrobot ship without any prior detection. Likewise, the Enigma Core (my new placeholder name for the generator technology Vari-8 initially developed, as we are becoming increasingly uncertain of its actual association with the Drift) is likely operating on a similar technology. I intend to conduct some additional tests on the energy itself, but based on my examinations so far, I believe we can definitively conclude that Veronica’s technology is in no way native to the Pact Worlds or any known and documented extrasolar society.

Besides my research and experimentation, a great deal of my time was spent helping Yaro acclimate to his new sense of vision. As someone who has been accustomed to being blind from birth, there are a great many things Yaro would not be familiar with. Fortunately, I am in the business of education, so I took it upon myself to instruct him not only on the proper use of his eyes, but also a few basic vision-based concepts. Yaro is thankfully a very attentive student and a quick learner, so he’s already picked up the basics of reading and colour theory. I am also gradually introducing him to the aesthetic wonders around Absalom Station, which has proven to be a uniquely rewarding experience, given that I hadn’t had many opportunities to explore them myself. As thanks, Yaro was kind enough to gift me a beautiful turquoise aeon stone. Its natural light emission makes it an excellent night light, which has proven an excellent addition to my evening reading sessions.

Vinu resumed her work as a musician during our downtime, and as I understand it her band has been rapidly gaining popularity. She seemed eager to invite us to one of her concerts, which I was all too happy to accept, though I feared that Yaro may not be sufficiently attuned to vision for the technicolour onslaught of a high-impact sensory-core synthwave dance party. Fortunately, sensory dampeners are a thing, so we managed to make it work. I confess, dance clubs are not really a kind of environment that I am accustomed to, though I nevertheless managed to enjoy myself. It only took a brief period of observation to realise that the combination of audio-visual stimulation and alcoholic beverages means that any given individual is unlikely to be noticed, regardless of their lack of dancing experience, which was reassuring. I could have done without having to get a very drunken Tibbers back to the dorms afterwards, but that’s what I brought the inebriation inhibitors for. I just hope he made it to the washroom before their effects wore off…

On the subject of Vinu’s band, I also had the privilege of meeting Vinu’s band-mate and companion Madeci. I say companion because I am admittedly uncertain of the exact nature of their relationship. I was told that they are roommates, but there is an abundance of rumours and behavioural patterns that may suggest a more intimate bond. Then again, these ambiguous cues may simply be due to their more outgoing natures, and some biases owed to the general reputation of those in the musical profession as being promiscuous. Whatever the case, Madeci seems a perfectly affable individual with a personality as colourful as her appearance. It was my first time meeting a moyishuu, so it was interesting to see the manifestation of her emotional energy first hand. Almost as soon as I met her, I felt at ease, as though meeting with a long time friend I could trust. I imagine such an ability must be quite useful for an entertainer, though I cannot help but be concerned at the avenues for abuse such an ability can also provide. Emotional influence aside, I still believe Madeci is a trustworthy individual. She is Vinu’s friend after all, and a friend of Vinu’s is a friend of mine.

I conclude this entry with the note that tomorrow we will be viewing the ship Vari-13 commissioned for us, which we have dubbed “The Everdawn”. I can’t wait to finally see it!

Player's Notes: A downtime session to conclude our escape from the Kagekumo and usher in the start of us having our own ship! We actually found out that the intent was to have us take one of the ships the slavers had captured for our own, but our choice to take the Kagekumo out of the Drift messed with his plans. Now we get to have a cool custom ship with a super crazy energy source (the Enigma Core gave us 300 power for ship building).

I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that Astrea is developing a crush on Yaro, and ever so slowly I'm building that into her logs. As the only other sane and morally upstanding member of the party, it kind of makes sense that they'd gravitate towards each other, and all their time together I think has brought them pretty close. I look forward to seeing how things play out. It'll be nice to have something cute on the side of the mess that is the necrobots.

As one additional thing, both Yaro's player and I added "Fun facts about character" sections, which I won't post here but I will keep in the appendix of the Google doc (link in the first post of this thread), in case anyone finds themselves curious to know some trivia about some of our adventurers.


23/05/12 - Session 17 - Astrea’s Journal: Familiar Territory, Unfamiliar Foe
Sixthday, 10th Sarenith, 322 AG, Absalom Station

Prior to enlisting for contract work with the Stewards, I believe the most relieved I’ve ever felt was when I received an approving nod from Professor Tethys after defending my thesis on the comparative psychological impacts of mechanical versus organic neurological implants. At the time, I recall comparing the sensation to immersing myself into a steaming herbal bath after a month of intensive labour, or consuming an especially tasty strawberry cheesecake while reading an engrossing novel.

The elation I felt when the vessel that appeared in our proximity was revealed to be a Knights of Golarion cathedralship here to respond to our distress signal was of a comparable level.

Would that it had lasted long enough for me to actually relax, but the universe seemed determined to make every step of our journey as difficult as possible.

Knight Commander Barrett of the Nerosyan barely had time to reach our comms before the cathedralship was struck by a greenish laser that all but annihilated their shields. I believe by this point it would be unnecessary to elaborate on the identify of the offending party, but in the interest of complete clarity, it was the necrobots. A large necrobot carrier appeared almost spontaneously (and very curiously, not from the Drift), intent on attacking not only our rescuers, but also the escape pods. The Nerosyan and the necrobot ship scrambled their fighters into an all out dogfight while we were given the simple task of escaping from the collapsing slaver ship (named the Kagekumo, by the way; it occurs to me that I’ve never included that bit of information, likely on account of the relentless onslaught of life-threatening scenarios that have been occupying the majority of my concentration for the last several hours).

We immediately made our way to the remaining shuttle in the cargo bay. I had intended to make some repairs to it before we departed, lest we die horribly on the very last leg of our journey due to some unaccounted structural weakness, but Tibbers seemed all too intent on getting us moving immediately, risks be damned. Given the situation, I could not exactly blame him, and he was admittedly very dextrous when it came to manoeuvering us through the floating vats and debris (nearly as much as Vinu was when she wrestled the helm from him afterwards). That being said, I was not exactly pleased about our decision when one of the engines later malfunctioned. Besides one moment I dedicated to securely onboarding some civilians from a damaged escape pod, the majority of my time was spent attempting to keep our collapsing shuttle from falling apart before we could reach the Nerosyan.

It is fortunate that our team had a decent amount of experience working together by this point. While Vinu piloted (with Tibbers’ assistance) and Meved manned (beared?) the guns, Yaro kept the passengers stable and I did the same for the machinery. It is thanks to our combined efforts that we made it through the skirmish, even helping some of the Knights and civilians make it through. It was more than a little precarious at times, in no small part due to the fearsome firepower and technology the necrobots were leveraging against us, but we managed to escape with only a few casualties. Admittedly, that there were any casualties at all is a distressing fact, but having seen the horrible brutality of the necrobots first-hand, I’ve come to appreciate the merits of a passing grade. As one Nerosyan crew member so aptly put it, when the enemy can survive a direct hit from a nuclear warhead and blast your shields apart in a single shot, just be thankful you made it out alive. At least our escape and return to Absalom Station would allow us to warn the rest of the Pact Worlds of this threat. I have no desire to even consider the impact were the galaxy to face more of this sort of threat without any warning.

Given that the Necrobots seem to have a stronger command over the Drift than us, Knight Commander Barrett deemed it a prudent strategy to avoid Drift travel altogether. Six days journey in a cathedralship is a small price to pay for not having to enter another skirmish.

I chose to channel my emotional turmoil into reverse engineering the necrobot rifle we managed to preserve. Tibbers was in no position to object to my use of “Veronica”, as he spent the duration of the voyage in the brig (he was still technically a captured pirate, after all). Following a multitude of examinations, I can only conclude that the rifle’s construction goes well beyond the definition of “unconventional weaponry”. The mechanisms by which the device propagates its charge defies our fundamental understanding of the conservation of energy. I’ve shared my findings with some trusted peers at the Arcanamirium for further study, but I strongly suspect they will tell me my data sets must be incorrect, as there is no way that this gun should function. Had I not witnessed the phenomenon personally, and had I not also recently experienced a goblin defying the laws of physics in a similar manner, I might have thought the same thing. The single usable piece of information that I’ve gathered is that the gun is designed to draw power through a pseudo-symbiotic link with the wielder, who presumably possesses their own technology to generate that power. By severing the connection with my magic, I was able to preserve the structural integrity of the gun, but without a necrobot from which to supply energy, it’s unlikely that we will be able to recharge Veronica beyond its capacity at the time of its severance.

While I focused most of my time on studying Veronica, it was not my only subject of interest. Following our recent encounters, I’ve observed an alarming change in Meved’s physiology. When exposed to certain stimuli, Meved’s epidermis undergoes a mutation that renders it increasingly mechanical in nature. I was able to isolate the phenomenon and found it to be similar to the properties of the necrobot tissue I briefly studied. My current hypothesis is that prolonged exposure to the drift and the necrobots has caused an evolutionary leap within his already heavily modified awakened bear genome. I am continuing observation of this phenomenon to ensure that it has no detrimental effects, particularly at a psychological level (the last thing we need is a rampaging cyber-bear necrobot), but for the time being the adaptations seem to be largely beneficial. The nanomachines that are now inherent to Meved’s physiology are doing little more than hardening in response to physical trauma, which may prove a boon in future combat situations.

I also observed a change in Yaroslav, though this was of a more emotional nature. The last encounter on the Kagekumo has clearly left him shaken due to his relative helplessness. I know from my own studies the detrimental effects that sensory deprivation can have, so a certain degree of trauma is to be understood, but I believe Yaro’s distress goes beyond just that. Being helpless is on its own a damaging experience, but to be helpless in a situation where others are potentially relying on you all the more so. I sensed from my time working with Yaro that he is used to being a reliable member of the teams with which he collaborates. To then transition into being the one in need of support on account of his disability would deprive him of not only autonomy, but a sense of his responsibilities to his companions.

Though I did attempt to reassure Yaro that we did not see him as a burden, and that our tethering solution did ultimately allow him to be an integral part of our success, it’s clear that this alone would be insufficient. I suspect that he is strongly considering ocular implants to grant himself vision. This is not an unheard of practice among the Vlaka. Even on the Nerosyan, another member of his species recounted how his deafness caused the accidental death of a crewmate, which encouraged him to undergo surgery. I’ve offered my full support to Yaro, whatever his ultimate decision is. If he chooses a technological solution, perhaps he may accept my assistance with the procedure, as I have some knowledge about technorganic implants (I did successfully defend my thesis, after all). It would be the least I could do, considering how many times he’s saved me in the last month or so.

Given the changes my other companions are going through, I did think it prudent to check up on Vinu as well. She appeared to be perfectly fine, and in fact has been taking the time aboard the Nerosyan to regale the crew with her musical talents. She was also kind enough to provide me with some of her new musical material, which I am presently enjoying as I write this log entry. The rhythms have proven to be quite complementary to my work tempo.

---------------------------

Our return to Absalom was not met with any particular fanfare, which admittedly felt anticlimactic after all of the perils we had just endured. However, a lack of climactic events was something of a welcome reprieve at that point. Given the dangers we were aware of, a part of me could not help but consider just how much longer we might benefit from this relative peace. I’ve had to keep myself in check to ensure that such trains of thought don’t become fixations. Perhaps as a form of coping mechanism, I’ve noticed I’ve developed an occasional proclivity for sarcasm. I suspect that this may well be akin to the “sardonic shift” often encountered with more grizzled adventurers and combatants, though I do not believe I’m quite so far gone. However, given my recent rate of exposure to absurdly dangerous scenarios, I may get there yet. If so, I hope I live long enough to see it, if for no other reason than to fully document the progression.

Naturally, our first destination upon our arrival at Absalom Station (excluding an excruciatingly needed ablution) was to speak with our Stewards handler Soryn. To give him credit, he took my explanation of the situation quite stoically (by which I mean he at least waited for us to leave his office before dramatically shattering his glassware). Considering Yaro compared the situation to the Swarm Wars (of which, I will remind the readers, Soryn is a veteran), I was genuinely impressed at his composure. Perhaps if the Pact Worlds leadership is similarly disciplined, we might be able to calmly mount a defence capable to holding off the necrobots. I say that with admittedly very little confidence that the Pact World leadership actually is composed of such individuals. Nevertheless, I am still attempting to remain at least somewhat optimistic despite the disconcerting probabilities.

Thankfully, Vari-13 had come to meet us after our report with some much needed uplifting news. AbadarCorp was indeed grateful for our contributions to their employee’s continued existence (in opposition to the myriad of khefaks, gang members, pirates, and robotic undead abominations that have recently become acquainted with them), and chose to compensate us generously for our efforts with a large sum of credits (35000, to be exact).

In addition to this, Vari informed us of their impending plan to create a vessel using the experimental Drift engine as the primary means to study this new power source. Given that we had more or less already agreed to this plan prior to our departure from Akiton, it was a simple conclusion that we would all join in as the ship’s crew. Tibbers would also be extended an invite, though this would have to be contingent on him being successfully released after his trial for piracy (a trial we were subpoena’d for). Setting aside the hypothetical necrobot threat for a moment, the technology does remain extremely promising, so there is some value in continuing this plan.

That being said, my previous concerns were brought back to mind by something Soryn pointed out. The Drift engine had remained dormant in Akiton’s wastes for centuries, potentially guarded by that single goblin skinner. The necrobots were entirely unheard of until mere days after our discovery of the drift engine, and their attack did occur on a vessel we were occupying. There is a distinct possibility that the attack on the pirates was not a result of their prolonged time in the drift as we suspected, but rather that WE (as in the finders of the Drift engine) were the targets. Their attacks may be aimed in a manner to prevent us from uncovering this technology, or alternatively they may be targeting us due to us having successfully defeated one of their kind. The others who have suffered as a result of these attacks may simply be collateral damage from them not wishing to leave witnesses.

For the time being, this remains speculation. It’s still difficult to say just what the intention of the necrobots is exactly. They are clearly intelligent, but have shown no interest in communication (that we know of; perhaps we’ve missed a crucial detail in that regard). If we are the ones being targeted, then the necrobots may simply be satisfied with hunting us specifically, in which case the Pact Worlds may not be under an immediate existential threat as we fear (though that is still not exactly reassuring news for us specifically). Alternatively, if their intention is to wipe all evidence of their existence, then our warnings may well have been a damning act that has put millions of lives at risk…

As with my other troubling ruminations, I will do my best to keep this one in check and focus on the known variables of the situation. Dwelling on possibilities without a means to validate them will not be much help, so I’d rather focus my efforts in places where I can help.

The next of those is the trial of one Tiberius “Tibbers” Slayton.

Player's Notes: With this session, we marked the end of the prologue to our new adventure. It started off strong, with a skill challenge to get to the Nerosyan in one piece (a challenge that saw an unusually high quantity of nat20s and nat1s, including a nat20 on Astrea's part to rescue the escapees in the broken escape pod, and soon after a nat1 to instruct the passengers on how to properly conduct an emergency crash landing, thankfully saved due to Meved jumping in the way to act as a giant air bag). Then we levelled up (for anyone wondering, Meved's shifting into Evolutionist; that's where the mechanical mutations are coming from from a mechanics side of things). Then we got to retell our story, and finally we finished off with a big paycheck and a carte blanche to build ourselves a spaceship.

When I last played Starfinder way back when it first came out, ship rules weren't quite ready (namely, there were no ship statblocks for us to use), so I never got to play with those mechanics. I'm looking forward to trying them out this time around!


23/04/25 - Session 16 - Astrea’s Journal: Railings and Railguns
Seventhday, 4th Sarenith, 322 AG, Unknown, The Drift

It hasn’t quite been a week yet since we found ourselves preparing to fight a large group of incredibly hostile individuals. Last time, we had the advantage of being able to prepare the battlefield, and our enemies, while aggressive, were still beings capable of fear and rational self-preservation. These were not advantages we would get to enjoy against the necrobots.

We also would not get to enjoy the privileges of an oxygenated environment, nor gravity.

When we diverted power to the engines to get us out of the Drift, we had to sacrifice most of the remaining energy on the ship. That included life support and gravity systems. Fortunately, it’s standard for suits to come with basic life support systems, so we wouldn’t have to worry about a lack of oxygen for a while at least. The lack of gravity meanwhile was not exactly ideal, especially when we were about to enter a combat situation. Meved may have his natural climbing ability to lean on, and Vinu is quite graceful, but as I have previously asserted, I am an academic, not an acrobat.

That’s to say nothing of poor Yaroslav. Being sightless, he usually relies on his other senses to navigate. By turning the ship into a vacuum, we’ve effectively removed his most important senses. Given that it is common for Vlaka to be born without eyesight and to choose to remain that way for cultural reasons, I have to wonder how their species typically tackle the challenges of space. Such an investigation could be interesting and may yield some interesting and creative solutions, but our needs were a little more pressing.

We ended up building Yaro some simple magnetic fasteners to help him remain grounded. Between Tibbers’ jury-rigging skills and my understanding of neurotechnological implant systems, we were able to install it without too much trouble. Then, I tethered myself to Yaro to help guide him along. I had functionally turned myself into a seeing eye Lashunta. It was a little awkward both physically and psychologically at first, but all things considered, it worked reasonably well. I’m thankful it was Yaro of all people that I ended up tethered with. I imagine the arrangement would have been significantly more difficult with Vinu or Meved…

When we spotted Twitch on the ship’s cameras, it was along an end of the cargo bay catwalk, near the aft of the ship and not too far from the shaft that connected the bridge to the rest of the vessel. That made it a fairly clear first objective for us. Compared to just about everything else we’ve had to do so far, retrieving Twitch turned out to be one of the easiest, though certainly not without its perils. The sudden rush from opening the doors from the elevator room to the cargo bay very nearly caused some of us to be violently pulled into space. This was because a large portion of the ship’s rear end was now missing, leaving instead a massive gaping hole into the void of space that could have very easily been used as a crude metaphor by a more uncouth chronicler. Nevertheless, thanks to my brave companions, Twitch was returned to me safe and sound.

Well, relatively safe, given the circumstances. Turning back in towards the rest of the cargo bay made it clear that we remained very much in danger. The slaver pirates that were our initial enemies were all dead, the victims of our new, considerably more frightening foes. There was a mix of flayed ones and rifle wielding necrobots, but all of them shared the common trait of being exceedingly hostile to any living creatures in the immediate vicinity, which at the time consisted exclusively of us.

Our battle tactics were fairly well established by this point. Meved rushed ahead on the catwalk to directly engage with the first creatures he could reach. Vinu held back and used her pinhole rift rifle at long range to great effect, while Vari provided assistance to her in the form of reloading her weapon and giving her healing injections as needed. Tibbers pushed up after Meved, using his new gun (which he has named “Veronica”, by the way) to fire on the rifle necrobots that Vinu was engaging until he reached the frontline. Meanwhile, I helped Yaro carefully move ahead so that we could eventually join in and provide support.

The zero gravity conditions clearly affected out combat capabilities, to the point that our greatest challenge was actually managing to hit the necrobots. They on the other hand didn’t seem to have much trouble. It stands to reason that these beings were configured not only for terrestrial combat, but for space combat as well. Nevertheless, by keeping our efforts mostly concentrated, we could eventually surmount their reconstructive capacities, at which point the decoupler grenades we found in the workshop did wonders putting them down for good. Tibbers did suffer a serious injury and was briefly knocked unconscious, but fortunately Yaro and I arrived in time to help him recover, and soon after our combined efforts were enough to handle the necrobots that remained on our side of the catwalk.

Now that I mention it, there was also one instance where gravity did work in our favour. Near the latter portion of the fight, one of the rifle necrobots from the other side of the catwalk did attempt to float over to our side to engage us more directly. Though under normal atmospheric conditions I would have been unable to do much about this, in this case I was able to leverage the lack of friction to make surprisingly effective use of my psychokinetic talents. With a quick shunt of some nearby materials, the necrobots trajectory was rerouted to a collection of barrels of what I would later learn contained large amounts of Vesk paint thinner. It took a few seconds for the collision to occur, during which time the necrobot managed to land a devastating shot on Vinu. Thankfully Vari was able to heal Vinu quickly enough that she was ready to fire on the barrels as the collision occurred, effectively immersing the necrobot in highly corrosive chemicals. Given how effective this ended up being, I’ve taken note that such materials may be an invaluable resource against the necrobots in the future. Hopefully the Vesk need to thin a lot of paint…

By the time we finally defeated the last of the necrobots and started making our way to the scouting shuttle, we were all exhausted. I had used up nearly all of my magic (the last of it had served to limit the combat effectiveness of the remaining necrobots, to admittedly minimal effect) and most of my energy, as had Yaro, and though Meved, Vinu, and Tibbers were mostly healed thanks to Yaro’s talents, they weren’t exactly in peak condition either.

So naturally, it’s at this exact moment that the entire cargo bay was immersed in a bright light that I could only sincerely hope was a rescue craft…

Player's Notes: You know those days when the dice just really aren't in your favour? That was us for the vast majority of this session. Most of us, especially Meved, had a hard time rolling anything above an 8. Meanwhile the enemies landed a lot of quite devastating hits. That one shot on Vinu I alluded to was not only a crit, but 2 points away from maximum damage. If Starfinder worked that way, it would have brought her down to something like -28. I should note that at the time he was suffering from a cumulative -10 penalty for a total of +2 to hit. I also hit several of the necrons with incompetence, but then they proceeded to roll 18s so consistently that my debuff just didn't really do anything. Pain...

I know at least that our GM isn't evil enough to make us go into another fight right after that gruelling ordeal, though the way he put it, we might only be spared from "land" combat, which means a ship battle isn't off the table. Hoo boy...

Also, the whole seeing-eye lashunta situation ended up being pretty amusing, though it seems like the ordeal convinced Yaro that maybe he ought to go buy himself some implants. A shame, I thought it made for a cute little tag-team situation.


23/04/18 - Session 15 - Astrea’s Journal: No Easy Way Out
Seventhday, 4th Sarenith, 322 AG, Unknown, The Drift

The workshop, despite having a variety of equipment well suited to the production and dismantling of equipment, regrettably wasn’t all that useful to us given our circumstances. While I do certainly have the technical skill to produce some serums, I was lacking in that most fundamental of resources: time. Synthesising even a single serum would take hours, during which the necrobots (I have chosen this designation for the undead machines until we can ascertain their actual identification) would likely overrun the entire vessel. I also considered dismantling the mysterious rifle that I managed to preserve, but doing so would not only be time consuming, but also deprive us of one of our few weapons capable of negating their regenerative capabilities.

Fortunately, we did not leave the workshop entirely empty-handed. Aside from the various materials we collected, Meved also managed to find a large supply of decoupler grenades. The nanites contained within those devices are known for their corrosive effect. By my estimation, that should effectively counteract the regenerative properties of our aggressors.

From there, we determined that our next destination would be the bridge. From what we’ve observed, these beings are emerging from somewhere within the Drift. Given that, there is a high probability that the longer we remain within the Drift ourselves, the greater the likelihood that more of these machines will appear. In medicine, when suffering from an open wound, one of the most important steps is to cauterise or otherwise seal it so as to prevent infection. In this metaphor, our exposure to the Drift is the open wound. The sooner we get out, the sooner we can stop worrying about additional reinforcements while we focus on the ones presently on the vessel.

The route to the bridge was long and lacking in any immediate threats, which gave us the opportunity to speak a bit more casually with our newest “ally”. Tiberius "Tibbers" Slayton is, to put it quite simply, not a particularly upstanding individual. From our discussion, we determined that he was born in the Diaspora and sought the life of a pirate ostensibly for money and to cure his boredom. From what I’ve studied on the subject, this is an all too common life story for those of the Diaspora, and certainly not warranting of moral judgement. One cannot fault a person for the circumstances of their birth. Or at least, in my opinion one shouldn’t; I am well aware that there are many across the Pact Worlds do not share my stance on this matter.

That being said, one can fault a person for the choices they make while pursuing their career path. Pirates come in many forms, and while the profession is a criminal one by definition, that is not to say that all crimes are equal in severity (or at least, I do not personally consider them to be). I might have forgiven thievery, smuggling, or other crimes directed at monetary goods as the unfortunate actions of those suffering from social inequality. Abduction and slavery are not nearly as easy to forgive in my eyes, as they are direct attacks on the agency of other living beings. Even if Tibbers was not engaging in the act himself, he was complicit.

As we asked him about his choice of working for Marcus (who we learned was in fact the captain of the ship), he was largely unrepentant, acknowledging that while Marcus was a “dick”, he did pay well, as though this would be enough to justify the crime of slavery. Yaro shared my exasperation at this particular response. Still, he demonstrated at least some awareness that enslavement is not something to revel in or actively promote, which is something at least. It is my hope that with time and exposure to more constructive environments, Tibbers may come to share my perspective and recognise the repugnancy of his former trade. If all goes well, perhaps he might even develop ambitions that go beyond the acquisition of material wealth at the expense of innocent people’s freedom. I will do what I can to assist him in these efforts. After all, it is my firm belief that no sapient being is completely beyond redemption.

[Paragraph redacted from original log]

Also, it goes without saying that following the kiss incident, I will not be considering any sort of romantic entanglements with Tibbers. At the very least, not until our moral compasses are more aligned… And he trims his facial hair and takes a much needed shower. Even then, such a development is by no means a certainty. At this stage I have an equal if not higher probability of seeking out a relationship with Yaro or Vinu… Wait, nononono I definitely should not include this.

[End of redacted paragraph]

When we reached the bridge, it was completely devoid of living or unliving organisms beyond ourselves. While somewhat worrisome, it did make our next tasks easier. While Vinu and Tibbers debated over who got to steer the ship out of the Drift (hopefully while also preserving the structural integrity of the vessel), I investigated the rest of the ship through the camera feeds. The upper levels, where we had remained up until now, were clear of any threats. The lower levels however, were a different story.

To give some credit to the combat capabilities of the pirates, they did not completely buckle under the assault of the necrobots. Marcus and the remaining soldiers on the ship had taken a defensive position in the cargo bay and had even managed to destroy some of the necrobots. There seemed a chance, albeit a microscopically slim one, that the pirates might successfully repel the invaders.

That chance was dashed when a new figure appeared in the cargo bay. This necrobot carried a disproportionately large battle scythe and had ornate markings that lead me to hypothesise that they were a commanding officer of some sort. With what looked to be minimal effort, this new figure eviscerated Marcus, then vanished (again, using the same teleportation technology that the other necrobots used to appear on the vessel), leaving behind three more flayed ones. Vinu expressed annoyance at being denied a chance to get revenge on the pirate captain, and while I can understand her sentiment to some extent, I was far more concerned with the terrifying implications of this new entity. If even more powerful forms of these necrobots exist, then the Pact Worlds may well be on the verge of an existential threat the likes of the Veskarium Invasion or The Swarm. I did what I could to save some of the video files to my personal device as evidence. As soon as we return to Absalom Station, we will absolutely need to bring this to the Pact’s attention.

Of course, to inform anyone of the threat, we would have to survive it ourselves, a feat more easily said than done. After I diverted some additional power to the ships engines, Vinu and Tibbers did fortunately manage to shunt us out of the Drift, placing us somewhere between Akiton and Absalom. One of the ship’s arms did take some serious damage as a result, though the larger structure remained whole enough to spare us the need for an immediate evacuation. It also gave the necrobots enough time to finish off the remaining pirates in the cargo bay. At this point, I activated the ship’s distress beacon including a warning about the necrobots, just in the small chance that any wandering starship might investigate. I sincerely hope that message does not end up being my last…

With the ship running on minimal energy supplies, our remaining options were to remain in the ship until we are rescued, or to procure the smaller landing craft docked in the cargo bay in the hopes of using it to escape. Activating a self-destruct protocol on the ship would endanger us as well as the surrounding escape pods, and leaving the ship in the necrobot’s hands and/or claws was also not an option, so one way or another we would have to eliminate the remaining creatures. Given that I’ve exhausted much of my magical power, we are all quite tired, and we are severely outnumbered by technologically superior foes, I am deeply concerned about our probabilities of survival. That being said, our track record has actually been quite positive overall, so we do retain a modest chance of success.

There is one additional factor in our favour. While looking through the camera feeds, I was able to locate Twitch, in the cargo bay of all places. I am confident that my commitment to retrieving my drone will be strong enough that a few undead robots with giant claws and disintegrating beam guns won’t be much of a hindrance. [Editor’s note: I am being facetious; those things would almost certainly kill me if the others can’t hold them off. I am just trying to encourage myself through positive reinforcement so as to avoid contemplating the absurd amount of danger we find ourselves in.]

Player's Notes: A pretty short session overall, but we got some good roleplay in. Tibber's got his own NPC statblock now and is officially a NE human male Exocortex Mechanic 3 (we're currently level 5, for reference). Astrea is a bit more grossed out by him now that she knows how unrepentant he is about his old job, but maybe someday he'll redeem himself in her eyes. For now, Astrea has decided to mess with him by feigning ignorance about human expressions of referring to people as pieces of anatomy. Besides, we have other priorities right now.

As a somewhat but mostly unrelated project, I recently updated an illustration of my favourite nerd OC (in mundane human form) with a vast multitude of facial expressions based on a few different settings (6 eyebrow options, 6 eye options, and 7 mouth options, for a total of 252 possible variations). I, being the unreasonable fellow I am, then turned all of these into individual images I can now use as reactions for just about any conceivable situation that occurs in our game. I already put in the work, so should you have an interest, behold.


23/04/11 - Session 14a - Astrea’s Journal Addendum: On The Subject of Spontaneous Affections in Intense Environments
Seventhday, 4th Sarenith, 322 AG, Unknown, The Drift

[Exclude following entry from any official publications]

Given recent rather unexpected events I find myself in need of a moment to process my current situation, more specifically regarding matters of romantic entanglement.

Following my previous close encounter of the aggressively snuggly kind I did take note that I possessed a certain personal desire for physical affection. This I attributed to dire circumstances and lack of standard creature comforts in combination with my prolonged exposure to my compatriots and their admittedly very pleasant fur coats, rather than any explicit romantic intentions on anyone’s part. At least, that was my running hypothesis until such a time that I could observe my mental state while in more neutral conditions.

Of course, almost immediately following the conclusion of our previous dire situation we have found ourselves in another. High intensity situations are naturally stimulating and trigger a large number of strong chemical reactions within an organism’s body. If this is maintained for a prolonged period of time, these imbalances can cause a wide variety of unusual behaviours. These behaviours may very well be out of character for the subject in question, or alternatively they may be actons that the subject desired to perform and may now do so when their inhibitions are weaker. It is difficult to determine which of these is truly the case without performing a more thorough neural diagnostic.

Naturally, self-analysis is difficult to conduct objectively, especially when the purpose is to ascertain my levels of objectivity. Perhaps Tibbers would allow me to scan his brain. He’s been fairly cooperative for the most part… No, wait. That would be a strange thing to do.

In any case, it is not so much Tibbers’ sentiments that are the subject of my disconcertion as it is my own. The embrace was a spontaneous and unsolicited action. However, I am having difficulty determining whether I approve. I hardly know enough to judge my overall impression of Tibbers, let alone as a potential romantic candidate. Naturally the circumstances of our encounter and his current profession paint him in a very poor light, though his repeated actions of loyalty, attentiveness, and care for others are not altogether congruous with my initial impression. I am not entirely under the impression that he is a “bad” person. He’s also quite competent with a firearm and not altogether unattractive from a physical perspective, so perhaps…

Still, it is entirely possible that this was a spur of the moment response to heightened excitement and I am reading entirely too deep into this. I don’t even know if the emotions I am currently experiencing are rooted in love, lust, or outright bewilderment.

I can however confirm that kisses are a pleasant sensory experience at least.

[End of excluded section]

Player's Notes: Alternatively titled "Astrea got kissed and freaks out about it". I'll be honest, I've been uncertain of whether I was going to have Astrea pursue anything romantic in this game. I've kinda left it as her being generally easy to fluster on account of lack of experience, and then maybe I'd have her spontaneously kiss someone after achieving some great victory or getting rescued in a clutch moment. I figured a good opportunity would happen eventually and I'd go for it then, probably with Vinu or Yaro. I wasn't really expecting her to end up being on the receiving end of the "my hero" gambit, but I can't deny that it fit the moment.

Now, whether Tibbers, with his cockney accent and mutton chops token is really the kind of thing Astrea would go for... Eh, who knows. Astrea in other settings does have a track record of being pretty open-minded when it comes to her romantic inclinations. If nothing else, it will probably be funny to have play out.


23/04/11 - Session 14 - Astrea’s Journal: Bold Actions
Seventhday, 4th Sarenith, 322 AG, Unknown, The Drift

In the short time after our mission on Akiton, I decided to further develop my combat capabilities, so as to have a more versatile toolset to address the increasingly dangerous scenarios I had encountered. After all, Meved won’t always be available to help me deal with the various hostile entities the universe has to offer. My available study time was brief, so I focused on three primary subjects to begin with.

The first was enhancing my Communalism Graft. I had originally gotten the implant to help me understand the hive-minded societal approach of the Shirren, and how an increased neural connectedness with others might improve collaborative endeavours. I sought to expand that ability to not only apply to myself, but so that I might also confer these benefits to others, who might have a greater need for it in difficult situations.

The second was to improve my ability to dampen spells. Magic is a powerful tool, and should be used responsibly. Though our last mission did not involve much in the way of adversarial arcane forces, I recognise that among our group it is a field in which I am uniquely trained, and so it seemed appropriate to maintain a certain level of expertise in this subject, just in case it were to come up.

The third and last of my studies was to find a new spell that might be of use in combat scenarios. Up until now, I have focused on abilities that mitigate enemy combat capabilities. This is fine while in the presence of my more martially-inclined companions, but I would prefer to be self-sufficient if possible. Still, I did want to retain some level of general utility as well with my magic, so I settled on downloading the parameters for a spell that generates a wall of steam. It has duration, range, and both damage and utility, making it a very multipurpose resource.

During our first encounter with the undead robots on the slaver vessel, I had tested some of these new capabilities. They were still a bit difficult to use effectively, though their potential did become immediately apparent to me. That initial field data was invaluable in helping me with the situations I encountered soon after.

In my last journal entry, I had just begun progressing to the ship’s workshop, which should also contain the armoury. It was situated on the other side of a long corridor. It just so happened that this corridor contained several more of the “Flayed Ones” we encountered earlier. As the rest of the group was preoccupied, I would be dealing with this situation alone, at least for the time it took for the others to rejoin me.

Thankfully, my Wall of Steam spell is well-equipped for putting pressure on a long narrow corridor, and I still had enough magic to manifest it again.

Now, the steam was certainly an effective means of dealing some sustained damage to these creatures. However, their regeneration was also quite rapid, so left alone I would be unable to take them down. Certainly not before they would be able to run through my steam and vivisect me as they had already done to much of the ship’s crew. It was a stroke of good fortune for me then that some of the aforementioned crew in the area had not yet been entirely exterminated. At the far end of the same corridor I had doused with steam was a pair of pirates that were doing their best at holding the flayed ones off.

I suspect that the flayed ones saw these men as the more immediate threat, and that is why they ignored me to pursue them. Personally, I saw no reason to dissuade them from that decision. Perhaps it is a moral failing on my part, but I did not feel especially inclined to actively invite near certain death in order to potentially protect criminals who until moments ago had every intention of selling me into a life of slavery.

While I focused on maintaining my steam, most of our group (including Vari-13 and Tibbers) joined me and provided assistance, mostly in the form of additional firepower. The pirates did eventually succumb to the creatures, but they dealt sufficient damage to temporarily disable some of the flayed ones, while the others remained only barely operational.

The one problem was that without some form of corrosive or explosive damage, their regenerative technology would eventually restore them. Meved was the only one among us with grenades, and he was the one member of our group who had not joined us near the corridor (as I would later learn, he was otherwise preoccupied with a flayed one in the ship’s bathroom). That left only my energy magic as a means to permanently disable these threats. I would only need to hit the creatures once, though hitting them was already difficult, let alone while more of them were approaching to presumably convert me into so many small cubes of organic matter.

Nevertheless, the necessity of the endeavour for our continued survival outweighed the dangers, so I made the decision to risk it. Once I stopped maintaining my steam, I had 24 seconds before it would fully dissipate, during which time I as well as the flayed ones would continue to suffer from the scalding heat. I rushed forward and with Yaro’s support through my Communalism link, I was able to strike one of the flayed ones that was still disabled, causing it to disintegrate.

As expected, the two that were still standing made their way to me, though fortunately they were unable to get close enough to strike just yet. This would have been very bad for me, had it not been for the help of Yaro, Vinu, and Tibbers firing on my pursuers. Their strikes combined with my steam were just enough to disable these machines as well, which allowed me the time needed to carefully apply my acid to them as well.

Thanks in no small part to all of my allies and a couple pirates, my admittedly very dangerous plan was successful. I was able to clear the path to the workshop with only some minor self-inflicted burns. It is in some ways amusing to think that I would never have done something so rash and foolhardy even just a couple weeks ago. Despite not having yet had the opportunity to conduct a psych eval on myself, my hypothesis is that continued exposure to life-threatening situations has deeply affected my ability to conduct risk analysis and has generally improved my focus during fight-or-flight decision making.

Speaking of risks, I had recently been becoming more aware of the dangers one must consider in team-based operations. Splitting up a group can be useful in some circumstances, but also comes with risks, especially if any member of that group is solitary. In my case, I am confident that I only survived due to the presence of the pirates and the swift response of my friends. Meved meanwhile was not afforded these privileges. Perhaps our prior experience in the Stellar Flare had led us to think that Meved is simply undefeatable, but this is not an assumption we ought to make, especially when facing creatures as stubbornly resilient as these. While the rest of us had been preoccupied with clearing a path to the armoury, Meved had sustained serious wounds in his fight.

As soon as we had come to realise the situation, Vari-13, Vinu, and eventually Yaro would return to the washrooms to provide assistance (I was still dealing with the last of the disabled flayed ones at the time, and Tibbers remained to cover me). Fortunately with their support, Meved recovered enough that he and Vinu were able to drop the remaining flayed one, and Meved used a grenade to prevent it from restoring itself. I should note that while I have informed him that grenades are meant to be thrown once activated, Meved still seems to prefer holding onto the devices as they detonate. Perhaps he simply distrusts his ability to throw them accurately and fears wasting what has quickly become one of our most valuable resources. In the event that this is the case, I have taken note to investigate possible alternative distribution methods that might allow for less collateral damage.

Once the immediate threats in our vicinity were cleared, we took a moment to check our surroundings. There was little of note for the most part, save for a couple important discoveries. We first checked the engineering bay to the aft of the ship, finding the ship’s primary systems to be in a rather sorry state, though mercifully lacking in additional mechanised undead activity. Perhaps my recent success had emboldened me, but I immediately took charge of the bay. I suppose the engineers were either too dumbfounded or exasperated to stop me, since none made any real attempts to do so. Either way, I used the computers to divert all power from non-critical systems to stabilise those we would really need. Perhaps it is because of my education with technological systems affording me a greater insight into such matters, but the manner in which they had calibrated their energy outputs was laughably inefficient. Now at least we could remain reasonably confident that we wouldn’t find ourselves depressurised because 20% of the ship’s fuel was being spent operating an unoccupied power armour charging station.

I also took the liberty of disabling their harpoon and gave myself complete administrative access, just to ensure the pirates would not be too much of a problem once the undead robots ceased being the most immediate threat. As Marcus so rudely reminded us, our mutual enemy does not necessarily make us allies.

Our other worthwhile discovery was the escape pods. Surprisingly, Tibbers was the one to suggest we help the prisoners escape before continuing. Furthermore, he offered to stay and support us, instead of making a clean getaway. It is still difficult to say that I trust him completely, but he showed a remarkable understanding of our ethical prerogatives. Perhaps, under the right conditions, rehabilitation is not out of the question. I’ve taken note to observe his behaviour further so as to build a psychological profile. Assuming this was indicative of a genuinely good nature, and not part of a ruse, perhaps I will be able to make a case to the Stewards for leniency once we return to Absalom Station.

After weighing our options, we determined that the safest course of action would be to evacuate the captives from this deathtrap sooner rather than later. This proved fairly simple, as we encountered no opposition. Perhaps we could have escaped as well and left this ship to its fate, though doing so now seemed the wrong course of action. We would either be leaving several people to likely die (even if they are pirates, they do deserve a proper interrogation and trial, not a gruesome death at the claws of horrific undead murder machines), or we would be leaving a group of pirates damaged but otherwise unchecked. Neither outcome seemed ideal given that we had the potential means to stop it. Most importantly however, we still hadn’t found Twitch. After everything we had been through, I had come too far to abandon my precious little drone.

Our next destination was the workshop. The initial reasoning for heading that way was to find something, be it weapons or tools, that might help us deal with the undead machines. Now, there was another factor to consider. Earlier, while I was dealing with the flayed ones in the corridor, I had briefly noticed another creature outside of the ship through the windows. It had the same basic physiological structure as the flayed ones, but seemed to be carrying a rifle of a design I had not seen before. I witnessed it tear through the flesh of a pirate with a single blast of that gun. A week ago the sight surely would have made me lose my lunch on the spot. I’m a bit more acclimated to brutal violence now, but the psychological impact of such a fearsome weapon was still significant. The last I saw of that creature, it had entered through an airlock that to my understanding connected to the workshop.

Sure enough, when we got to our destination, we encountered the gun-wielding machine, as well as another that matched the “flayed one” template we had been growing uncomfortably familiar with. We took on a standard formation for our group, which can be roughly defined as “Meved gets up close and personal at the front and the rest of us support him”. It’s a good thing we had taken the time to prepare ourselves, as the gunner’s weapon was indeed nothing to be trifled with. A single blast only grazed Yaro, but left a sizeable bullet hole in the wall behind him.

Though we have not yet ascertained anything about the culture of these creatures, we can extrapolate some conclusions if we consider known data on various sapient creatures across the pact worlds. Just about every species that developed advanced technology also had a period during which they fought amongst themselves. As such, they will inevitably create weaponry capable of harming their own kind. Offensive measures statistically develop more rapidly than defensive ones, so it’s quite rare for a species to be entirely immune to their own weaponry. If we assume that these creatures followed a similar developmental trajectory, that this would apply to them as well. Perhaps this was the case, or it was simply coincidence, but sure enough when I quickly studied the weapon’s damage profile, it was a mixture of highly corrosive acids conducting a strong current of electric power. This fact was one we could use to our advantage to more reliably address their regenerative properties.

That was the hope at least. As soon as the gunner was disabled, Tibbers made an impressive dash through the combat area to grab and discharge the weapon point blank into the machine. This had the desired effect of completely disabling it, but this triggered yet another measure of theirs. Just as all of the flayed ones we’ve encountered so far have dissipated with alarming speed as soon as they were fully deactivated, so too did this one start to disintegrate. More distressingly, so did its weapon.

My running theory is that this particular phenomenon is a technology they have developed in an effort to prevent their enemies from scavenging or studying them after defeat. It would certainly be a way to deny the enemy precious information and tools, so it would be a logical development for creatures with such a hostile predisposition. Nevertheless, such a phenomenon is not without its countermeasures. Though this particular ability is completely absent from my interplanetary codex, the underlying physical principles at play are universal, and through those I was able to determine roughly a means to negate it. The effect relies on technomagic and can therefore be disabled with something like a strong electromagnetic pulse, or by dispelling the magical energies used in the effect. I may not have an EMP Key like the one we used to gain access to the Stellar Flare, but I do have some limited capacity to disrupt magical energies. As soon as the rifle appeared as though it would start to dissipate, I took action.

Astonishingly, my attempt was successful! Though I lacked the power to completely cancel out the disintegration effect, I could sever the weapon’s link to its original owner, thus sparing it from the effect. Tibbers found himself able to wield the gun for the remainder of the fight with the flayed one that was still present.

[Note: Paragraph redacted from original log]

Almost if not more shockingly, Tibbers’ immediate reaction to my cancellation of the effect was to rush over and kiss me. I remain unable to completely comprehend this particular course of action, save as an extreme representation of gratitude. Given that this was my first kiss, I found myself experiencing a rush of very perplexed emotions. I have taken note to attempt to process these emotions at a time when our lives are not in immediate danger.

[Note: End of redacted paragraph]

In any event, with the other flayed one eliminated, we could take stock of the workshop to equip ourselves and then plan our next move. It would be best if we continued as quickly as possible, so that [Warning: heavy editing detected; memory allocation for further edits limited] we can resolve the situation before any distractions arise.

Player's Notes: There's something really satisfying about finally making use of the your abilities to come in clutch during an encounter. Between the steam wall and acid rays putting down all the flayed ones in the corridor fight (I even got to slip in an acid pun finisher; Astrea was feeling pretty vitriolic about that fight after all), getting a nat 20 in the engineering room to fix the critical systems, and then pulling off the dampen spell to keep the gauss gun from disintegrating, Astrea had a lot of moments to shine in this session. Meved had a rougher time than usual, mainly due to unlucky rolls and the fact that we accidentally split the party pretty badly (plus the flayed ones are just crazy tough in general). Lessons to be learned.

There was one other very shocking event at the end of this session which will be getting its own addendum entry, because there's no way Astrea wouldn't have a small meltdown over suddenly getting her first kiss stolen mid-combat.


23/04/08 - Session 13 - Astrea’s Journal: We’re Not Here to Flay
Seventhday, 4th Sarenith, 322 AG, Unknown, The Drift

When we escaped from our cells in the pirate ship, I was all too ready to fight the slavers. As a scientist and a scholar, I put a great deal of personal importance on the concept of free will and personal autonomy. The removal of one’s agency in any form, save to directly limit one’s ability to harm another’s agency in turn, is to me one of the greatest anathemas imaginable. Given my own moral code, slavery is something I simply cannot abide.

The fact that they not only sought to ply their heinous trade on me, but also to do so when I was en route to starting what may well be the greatest scientific endeavour I might ever have the privilege of participating in, did not help to garner them any sympathy.

Nevertheless, when faced with an unknown force of incredibly resilient beings that seem intent only on wholesale slaughter and mutilation of all living things in sight, even the most ardent foes can be made temporary allies. After all, the pirates at least have shown some capacity for communication and empathy.

It was with this in mind that we made a deal with our captive pirate. Tibbers, the pirate in question, would be allowed to accompany and guide us through the ship and assist us against both the unknown aliens and the other slavers. In exchange, we would not feed him to Meved (I mean that metaphorically, mostly). He was amenable to our terms.

In retrospect, I’m thankful that he was. As soon as we proceeded into the next part of the ship, we encountered a group of pirates fighting more of the “Flayed Ones” we had fought in the wreckage of the Stellar Flare. Most of the pirates didn’t survive, but did manage to hold the creatures off for some time while our group did our best to put them down. Once the situation was dire enough for us to give Tibbers a gun, he turned out to be a very good shot. He was also wise enough not to point it at our backs.

That being said, the Flayed Ones were not easy foes. It took a great deal of ammunition and resources on our part to put the creatures down, and even then we needed explosives or acid to keep their regeneration from bringing them back. I have my acid spell at least, and Meved has a few grenades, but beyond that none of us have much in the way of tools that are effective against these creatures.

There was also the matter of one particularly heavily armoured pirate by the name of Marcus. Initially, his heavy firepower was an appreciated tool against the undead robots, but it didn’t take long for him to start firing indiscriminately. Granted, he wasn’t present when we agreed with the slavers to focus on our common enemy, but one would hope he’d at least think not to draw our ire as well in all of this. For a while, I held him off with a wall of scalding steam (which also proved effective in keeping some of the remaining Flayed Ones from fully regenerating), then dropped it in time for our team to get some retribution. It was unfortunately insufficient to stop him (and by extension getting access to his impressive armaments), but at least it got him away from us for a while…

There was a brief lull in the fighting at this point, so we took the opportunity to look around. Vinu checked the fallen pirates for any useful equipment, while Yaro managed to find Vari-13 in a separate holding space. He also found another Flayed One in a separate room.

Meanwhile, I checked the computer room nearby to see if I could find anything useful, but the terminals seemed to be of a purely recreational nature. I made a point to insert some malicious code and leave behind some tracers, just in case these pirates somehow make it out of this situation. I then went to check on the armoury, but barely made it a step into the corridor before yet more Flayed Ones appeared on the opposite end.

Whatever these creatures are, they are absolutely terrifying, and entirely too plentiful…

Player's Notes: With this, I am up to speed. Our first big encounter against the Necrons was difficult, to say the least. These creatures have a shaken aura that last crazy long, hit pretty darn hard, and have regeneration that's very strong AND hard for us to turn off to boot. We used more than a few of our resources in that fight, even though we started the session reaching level 5. Considering the sheer number of additional flayed ones we saw just before the session ended, I'm genuinely wondering if the solution here will just be to escape. Still, there are enough captives for us to rescue to make that a hard sell... Well, here's hoping we can manage this...


SF2 - Necrons

23/04/04 - Session 12 - Astrea’s Journal: Drifting Into New Adventures
Seventhday, 4th Sarenith, 322 AG, Unknown, The Drift

Though I will be the first to acknowledge that my sample size is very limited, I am beginning to think that the life of a bounty hunter adventurer has a disproportionately high correlation with severely misfortunate events. Of course, this is to be expected to some degree, given that the nature of such a profession will inevitably lead to encounters with those who operate outside of the law. That being said, I would submit that this correlation goes beyond these expected parameters. Unless there is an external metaphysical force at play (which, I admit, is a distinct possibility), the sheer number of seemingly random events rooted in pure luck and serendipitous (or hapless, as the case may be) timings is uncanny.

I realise that in my rambling, I have neglected to contextualise. This started when our group, consisting of Yaroslav (a vlaka soldier and mystic of Sarenrae), Vinu (a pahtra musician and operative), and Meved (an uplifted bear mercenary and brutal force of nature), was escorting an android named Vari-13 from Akiton to Absalom Station. We had just completed a mission on Akiton, and through a series of coincidences ended up working with Vari to retrieve groundbreaking research on ways to utilise the Drift to generate almost infinite energy. This alone was a rather extraordinary adventure, which I have already documented in full.

While heading back, we heard some reports of ships disappearing under mysterious circumstances. This was concerning to say the least, but without any further details there was little our group could do. Besides, we had also learned that the Iomedaean fleet had sent one of its own vessels to investigate. Our hope was that this matter would be resolved without our involvement in any capacity.

Given my prior statements, I expect that it should come as no surprise that mere moments later, our own vessel would become the next victim. Our ship was struck with a massive tether, and before any of us could so much as hope to mount a defence, our electronics were disabled and the cabin was filled with an incapacitating agent.

When we woke up, we found ourselves in the holding area of a pirate ship, which we learned from our captors would be bound for the Azlanti Empire once it had amassed enough cargo. There is sufficient documentation on the Azlantis that I will not elaborate too much on them here, but I will summarise that as non-Azlantis, our fate should we reach our destination would be to live out our remaining days as slaves. As you might imagine, dear reader, we were not particularly fond of this outcome, and so we set about changing it.

Meved’s prior experience as a ship guard granted him enough familiarity with these types of containment fields to seek out a solution. He wasted no time finding and dismantling the electronics, disabling the force field and leaving the unfortunate guards at his mercy. I should note, for those unfamiliar with my previous reports, that Meved’s mercy typically comes in the form of a slightly swifter death with only a moderate amount of mauling. After several deeply traumatising first hand observations, I can in fact assure that, relative to the alternative, this is indeed merciful.

Vinu’s feline flexibility allowed her the mobility needed to escape her own cell and free Yaro as well, while I used my engineering expertise to disable the field while the guards were distracted. The pirates may have gotten the upper hand with their ambush, but they folded rather quickly this time. We took one pirate captive, retrieved our gear, and freed the other prisoners. Unfortunately, both my drone Twitch and our ward Vari were missing among the gear and prisoners respectively.

We knew that more pirates would soon be upon us, since the alarms were triggered during our fight, so we began preparations for our plan of attack. It’s at roughly this moment that our pirate captive’s communicator alerted us of a breach in the ship.

I should mention at this point that during our adventures on Akiton seeking out the previously mentioned Drift research, we came across a very peculiar creature that did not appear on any of the archives in my xenobiological database. It had the signs of both an undead as well as a technological being and was extremely hostile, very difficult to kill, and overall deeply unsettling. We dubbed it a “Flayed One”, due to its particularly macabre aesthetic. We had no idea how this entity came to be in the wrecked vessel where we discovered it, but signs pointed to it having come from the Drift.

My hypothesis, which my companions shared, was that the pirate ship’s prolonged time in the Drift may have caused these creatures to appear. I sincerely hoped it would be disproven.

As you might be able to surmise, dear reader, it was not.

Player's Notes: One adventure ends, and just as suddenly, a new one begins. This is the start of a homebrew adventure made by our GM. I don't know what to expect, save for the fact that we'll be up against Necrons. Here we go!

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