In gratitude for others sharing their campaign logs and journals, I'm going to post my Age of Worms campaign log. It's a somewhat non-standard game--a one on one with my son. We've been playing this way for five years, and it doesn't seem to inhibit our roleplaying much. I hope you'll enjoy it anyway.
The party consists of two PCs (run by my son) the brothers Allandrin and Allaxsim Delaluc, and two DMPCs, Gwynaleth Galanodel and Barbazad Bluebeard. Barbazad's journal appears below, after an introduction to the dramatis personae.
Alaxsim Delaluç A tall, strong young man, fifth son of a minor noble family of the Nyrstran region of the Duchy of Urnst. At 13, his elder fraternal twin brother ran away with a travelling minstrel who visited the family manor. (The two brothers have the Suloise fair skin and blue eyes that Urnst nobility are noted for, but have brown hair, inherited from their mother, who was born into a Nyrondal noble family of Oeridian ancestry from Hammensend. Mother is a Talnith, and her family are a branch of the Talniths who control the Barony of Woodwych in Nyrond.) Not long afterward, Alaxsim expressed a desire to leave home to seek his fortune. (As youngest of five sons, he hasn’t a prayer of inheriting the family domain.) His father used connections with Count Reichart Petrides, the Duchy’s ambassador to the Free City of Greyhawk, to gain young Alaxsim a spot as a neophyte in the Sanctum of Heironeous there. After two years of training, the High Priest, Jaikor Demien, a veteran of many campaigns in the Shield Lands against the forces of the evil demon-king Iuz, deemed young Alaxsim ready for his first assignment. After an all-night vigil, he was ordained a Sacred Warrior of Heironeous and posted to his first assignment. One of the Heironean paladins at the Free City Militia garrison at Diamond Lake was slain in battle by Lizardfolk, and Alaxsim was sent to replace him. He performed his duties at the garrison for several months, becoming familiar with the community and its surroundings, when one night he had a chance encounter with his brother Alandrin, who had wandered to town and had hired on as a performer to entertain the crowds at the soldiers?tavern known as the Spinning Giant.
Alandrin Delaluç --shorter and slimmer than his brother, Alandrin is the fourth son of the Baron Delalu? who ran away from home with a travelling minstrel named Brandazor. He was unhappy with his prospects as fourth son, and dissatisfied with his aging father’s strict rule over his family and domain, and longed to explore the world. The arrival of Brandazor at the Delalu?manor gave him the opportunity, and on the night after Brandazor left, he slipped out of the manor undetected and joined the minstrel. He served as Brandazor’s apprentice for two years, learning the art of minstrelsy and a little bardic magic from him as they wandered the Kingdom of Nyrond (east of the Duchy) and the County of Urnst (northeast of the Duchy). One day, traveling with his master from Radigast City, the capital of the County, to Dominion Castle, Alandrin and Brandazor were set upon by a group of bandits carrying a flag with a red hand on a black field, who were raiding from the Bandit Kingdoms across the Artonsamay River. Alandrin managed to escape before the bandits crossed the river, but Brandazor was taken away, perhaps to sing for the bandits?ruler himself. At least that is what Alandrin hopes. Finding himself masterless and penniless, Alandrin used his golden voice and his skill at minstrelsy to make his way. Thinking that the Free City of Greyhawk would be a fine place to build his career, and perhaps pick up more training at the Bardic College there, his wanderings took him back across the County and Duchy of Urnst, and west along the Urnst Trail toward Greyhawk. Out of coin, and tired from many nights of sleeping in the wilds of the Cairn Hills, he took a job in Diamond Lake, entertaining guests at the Spinning Giant. Chance brought him back together with his twin brother two weeks later, when his brother came to the Giant for a hard-earned bowl of wine after a long patrol along the edge of the Mistmarsh. Among the many other denizens of Diamond Lake he has met, Alandrin has enjoyed several conversations with the young dwarf apprentice wizard Barbazad Bluebeard, who has been able to fill him in on the local gossip in exchange for stories of Alandrin’s own adventures.
Barbazad Bluebeard ¡X A short, rather pudgy dwarf, Barbazad is the son of Galuth Grobadore, one of the councilors of the Greysmere Covenant, trade representatives from the dwarven community of Greysmere (a mine south of the Mistmarsh) in Diamond Lake, and he grew up here in Diamond Lake. His father is in and out of town on business, and Barbazad himself developed an interest in alchemy and transmutation magic through friendships with Benazel the Alchemist and Allustan the wizard. Always a bit of a rebel, Barbazad quarrelled with his father (something dwarves NEVER do), and decided to earn his keep as Allustan¡¦s apprentice instead of working at the Greysmere Covenant. He met Gwynaleth at the Dragonchess parlor during one of Benazel¡¦s meetings with her, and became a sort of a go-between when Gwynaleth¡¦s mother forbade her to see the half-elf. Gwynaleth now often visits Barbazad in his study at Allustan¡¦s, and they have developed their unusual friendship due to their common experience of trying to escape parental domination and find their own path through life. Barbazad is very curious about the world around, and has been frequenting the Spinning Giant, trying to get soldiers to tell him tales of their experiences in places outside Diamond Lake. Not long ago, he got into a conversation with an interesting young minstrel named Alandrin, who told him stories of his adventures on the road in Nyrond and the two Urnsts.
Gwynaleth Galánodél — A slender elf-woman from the Urnst side of the Celadon Forest, Gwynaleth’s mother Arlyriel is a sylvan elf priestess of Ehlonna in service of Silverhorn Grove, a sacred open-air temple allied with the Stalwart Pines ranger school, and the most holy site maintained by the priestesses of Ehlonna east of the Selintan River. As a girl, Gwynaleth roamed the woods freely, developing something of a reputation for getting herself into trouble by being too adventurous. She was encouraged in this by her father, a Stalwart Pines ranger who often took her on his less dangerous assignments during her youth. Once, Gwynaleth was almost killed by a baby green dragon, and since then her mother (estranged from her father) has kept a tight rein on her, making her learn her lessons so that she can follow in her mother’s footsteps as a priestess of Ehlonna. A year ago, her mother was assigned by the Silverhorn Grove leaders to travel to Diamond Lake to negotiate a trade agreement with the Celene gray elf mine owner Ellival Moonmeadow. Arlyriel resides in Moonmeadow’s mansion and serves currently as an agent in this important trade, which brings silver and mithral to the sylvan elves of Celadon Forest. Meanwhile, Gwynaleth soon got herself in trouble again, this time by flirting with Diamond Lake’s half-elven alchemist Benazel at Lazare’s Dragonchess parlor. When Benazel carried his attentions further, paying a courting call on Gwynaleth at the Moonmeadow residence, both Arlyriel and Ellival himself were scandalized, and Gwynaleth was forbidden to see him and put to work maintaining Ellival’s swanboat as punishment. (No elf wants her offspring to marry anyone but a full-blooded elf, and Ellival, as a gray elf from the isolationist Celene, is particularly prone to prejudice against “miscegenation,” as he calls it). Gwynaleth is adept at sneaking out at night, though, and has been hanging out with another friend from the Dragonchess parlor, the dwarven wizard’s apprentice Barbazad. Since she might run into Ellival or her mother at Lazare’s, she often visits Barbazad in his alchemical laboratory in the basement of Allustan’s mansion.
The Setting
Not long after Alandrin and Alaxsim were reunited by chance at the Spinning Giant, a party of adventurers from the Free City came to town, late in the month of Flocktime. Word soon got out that they were exploring the Stirgenest Cairn across the lake. One night over a bowl of wine, after Alandrin had finished his evening¡¦s performance at the Spinning Giant, he and Barbazad fell to talking about this latest piece of gossip circulating in the town. Barbazad, who grew up here and knows all the local youths, told Alandrin that he and others had ventured into Stirgenest Cairn many times, sneaking away to explore the place and drink wine in its scary caverns in groups. The place has nothing of interest or danger, as far as Barbazad knows. But Barbazad remembers another cairn near town, a place called the Whispering Cairn. The youths of Diamond Lake used to dare each other to spend the night alone in this place, noted for the spooky moaning sounds inside, until one time about six years ago when a teenage girl brave enough to take the dare didn¡¦t come back out the next morning. Barbazad suggests there must be some danger in the ancient cairn, but that means there also must be unlooted treasures! Alandrin, who is trying to make enough money to get to the Free City and maybe take classes at the Bardic College, agrees that he¡¦s up for a little excitement and a chance of some profit. The two agree to look for some additional partners to accompany them on their venture, and agree to meet at the abandoned mine overseer¡¦s office three miles out of town and a quarter of a mile from the entrance to the Whispering Cairn on the evening of the first of Wealsun. Alandrin convinces his brother to come along, since he¡¦ll be off duty at night, and Barbazad convinces Gwynaleth to meet the party there.
What follows is Barbazad's account of the adventures of the Company of Light, with headings added by the publisher for the reader's edification.
Barbazad¡¦s Journal
Episode One, in which the Company of Light Tries Dungeoneering for the First Time
Starday, First of Wealsun, 595 CY When I arrived at the abandoned mine overseer¡¦s office, my friends Alandrin and Gwynaleth were already there, along with Alandrin¡¦s brother Alaxsim. I should have arranged for some sort of sign so that my friends could recognize each other, as Gwynaleth said she almost came to blows with the brothers by accident when she stepped up out of the weeds she was hiding in to challenge them. We entered the tunnels of the Cairn two hours after sunset, pushing our way through the weeds and brush that had overgrown the entrance.
--Encountered three wolves in the entrance tunnels, and managed to drive them off with only a few wounds, thanks to Gwynaleth¡¦s talent for calming such creatures.
--Discovered remains of a strange stone frame in one of the alcoves near the entrance, along with 2 shards of a black glassy substance that appear to have originally been set in the frame like the pane of a mirror. The frame had a strange glyph carved upon it.
--In the wolves¡¦ lair, found a strange indigo lantern and a beautiful golden armband of elven make. Across from the wolves¡¦ lair, a mural depicted a chamber with lit lanterns in seven alcoves, each a different color of the rainbow.
--Penetrating further, following a flickering green light, we found the chamber depicted in the mural. Each alcove had a lantern except two, indigo and red. We replaced the indigo lantern where it belonged. (We think maybe it¡¦s important to hang all of the lamps in their place. We haven¡¦t found the red one yet, so we¡¦ll have to search around the dungeon). In the center of the chamber was a sarcophagus. When we lifted the lid, a magical trap shot fire at us, singeing all of us. Then we discovered that the sarcophagus spins on its base. The sarcophagus triggered a strange device to rise out of the ground in the yellow lantern alcove. Stepping inside, Alaxim was carried downward by it. The elevator returned empty, and we went down one by one to find out what happened to our companion.
--At the bottom of the elevator was a chamber whose exit was blocked by a large slab. We could see nothing through the crack between the slab and the roof, so we tipped the slab over. This triggered a poison gas trap that weakened all of us, and Gwynaleth was so badly affected that she collapsed and could hardly move. Then we encountered a strange creature that looked like two eyeballs connected by a rope of muscle. It tried to attack us with strange eye rays that either made you sleepy or scared you. Alaxsim got a bit shaken up, but I managed to knock the thing out with a color spray spell, and we killed it. We decided that we¡¦d had enough for one night, and carried Gwynaleth out of the dungeon and made camp inside the old mine overseer¡¦s office.
The Company Recovers
Sunday, 2nd of Wealsun ¡XGwynaleth was still pretty weak when we woke up this morning, so we decided to make a little base camp here in the mine office. Her mother would never let her sneak out to come with us again if she saw her in her present condition! Meanwhile, we needed to get some more supplies before our next trip into the cairn, and Alaxsim had to head back to the barracks for duty before sunrise. During the day, Alandrin went to town to try to sell the armband, but that old cheapskate Tidwoad didn¡¦t want to pay much for it. Later, I went in to town, and went shopping at Taggin¡¦s general store for supplies and provisions. While I was in town, I showed the black glassy shards to Allustan. He was quite curious about them, and bought them from me. He also gave me some equipment to take rubbings of the glyph we saw. Alaxim helped me carry the stuff back to camp. We tried to be sly about it¡XI hope no one saw us.
Moonday, 3rd of Wealsun ¡XAlandrin went to town this evening and delivered a letter from Gwynaleth to her mother at the Moonmeadow mansion, explaining her absence. I guess Gwynaleth will be in hiding from now on¡Xbecause if her mother finds her, she¡¦ll be locked up for a year!
Our Second Visit to the Cairn
Earthday, 6th of Wealsun ¡XGwynaleth finally felt well enough for us to make another trip into the Cairn tonight.
late entry, Wealsun 7
--We took a rubbing of the glyph on the base of the ¡§mirror frame.¡¨
--We continued exploring the chambers under the yellow lantern, and found some strange brown mold that saps the heat from your body. Fortunately, I discovered a way to kill it, using a ray of frost spell.
--We found what seems to have been a bedchamber, the wall carved with a bas-relief containing another strange glyph, which I copied.
--We found the remains of some poor soul who explored this dungeon long ago and was crushed by a trap¡Xhis fine suit of chainmail was still usable, though, and he had some interesting statuettes in his possession that might sell for a little money. The trapped alcove also held two magic wands and an interesting pair of lenses that allow you to see things close up.
--We discovered an interesting workshop with an unfinished statue and a strange jet-black stone, shaped like an egg the size of a small boulder. We copied the glyph engraved on the egg, but when Alaxsim touched it, it sprang to life, looking like a creature made of earth and stone. The creature fought hard, sinking into the floor and then re-emerging up behind us, but we managed to slay it. The statue was carrying a curious rod with six grooves etched across it at intervals¡Xas though it were made of seven shorter pieces that fit together like a puzzle. Very curious!
--Having fully explored the area under the yellow lantern, we decided to move the sarcophagus another notch and see what happens. When the head of the sarcophagus pointed at the green lantern alcove, we heard a loud rumbling noise, and then the stone floor under the green lantern collapsed. When we went to investigate, a swarm of yellowish beetles came out of the hole, along with a wierd creature that looked like an eyeball with spider legs. The creatures were horrible, swarming all over everyone, and spraying us with acid and biting us. All of us would have been killed if Alandrin and Gwynaleth had not drawn the beetles off toward the entrance and used fire to kill them. I am making this entry on the 7th, as I was unconscious by the end of the battle, and am still recovering from my close brush with death.
[DM's note--Allandrin tried to kill what was left of the beetle swarm by setting his cloak on fire and throwing it on top of them. He was not completely successful, but Gwynaleth managed to finish them off by torching the undergrowth in front of the entrance as they moved through it. DM ruled that the three downed characters had stabilized due to the fact that they were damaged by acid and were not bleeding. Yes, for those of you who haven't run this encounter yet, make sure your PCs are properly equipped or water down the CR a bit, otherwise it's likely to be a TPK]
Allaxsim Punished for Missing Patrol's Movement--We Explore a New Part of the Cairn
Freeday, 7th of Wealsun ¡XWhile the rest of us recovered from our encounter with the beetles, Alaxsim left shortly after dawn (when Gwynaleth finally revived him with her healing spells) to report for duty. He was supposed to leave on patrol this morning, but he showed up after the patrol had departed. He got a stern lecture from Valkus Dunn, the priest of Heironeous at the garrison, and a penance of cleaning latrines, since another Heironean was sent in his place. The good part, though, is that Valkus is letting him come back at night to keep exploring the Cairn, since we found some evil creatures in it, and Valkus thinks it¡¦s a good idea to clear a nest of evil this close to town. Alandrin was badly hurt by the beetles and Gwynaleth hasn¡¦t been able to revive him all day.
Starday, 8th of Wealsun ¡XIt¡¦s been a week since we started our adventuring careers, and it seems like lots of tedium in between chances to explore the Cairn. We¡¦re stuck out here in the dismal shack of an abandoned mine office. Alandrin finally came round today under Gwynaleth¡¦s ministrations. Meanwhile, Gwynaleth and I have been trying to fix the place up a bit. Today I went into town again, and sold the statuettes we found on the dead adventurer¡¦s body for 400 gold orbs. We each took 50 orbs, and used the rest to buy some more equipment, especially rope, torches, and alchemist¡¦s fire. (We think we need to light all the lanterns in the sarcophagus chamber, but we¡¦re not sure why.) I talked to Allustan while I was in town, and showed him the glyphs. He says they¡¦re ¡§Wind Duke¡¨ glyphs, and sent off to the Free City library for the Chronicle of Chan, a book that¡¦s supposed to help him decipher them. Tonight we¡¦re going back down into the Cairn.
In the Cairn (I¡¦m making this entry on the 9th, for I was once again left unconscious by the events of the evening):
--We rigged ropes to climb down the shaft that the collapse of the floor under the green lantern revealed. This time we brought alchemist¡¦s fire, which helped us to clean up the nest of yellow beetles in the chambers below. There were two big ones as well, but we got them too. We found the remains of what looked like most of an adventuring party, all uniformed in livery marked with an eight-pointed star symbol. They had three unspoiled potions, and a ring with a magic aura of transmutation. In an adjacent room we discovered something very curious, what seemed to be a sleeping quarters with stone beds. The room made us feel sleepy, some magical effect, no doubt. Another dead member of the ill-fated adventuring party was in here, his skull smashed. We took his ring, which had the eight-pointed star symbol on it.
--Beyond the sleeping chambers we found a stairway leading down into a flooded chamber. We decided to see what we could find under the water, dangerous as it was. Being a dwarf, I don¡¦t like water, so I stayed out, to help if the others got in trouble. Meanwhile the others stripped off as much of their clothing and armor as they dared and went under, holding their breaths, with Gwynaleth casting a light spell to light the way. The first time they came up for air, they told of an attack by a strange creature that seemed to be part of the water. Somehow they managed to kill it and come back up for air. The second time they went down and circled the large chamber, finding another member of the ill-fated exploring party that had preceeded us, and taking a magic shortsword from his belt. On their way back, they were attacked by a hideous undead creature. Coming up for air again during the fight, they final dispatched the thing, which was apparently the now unliving last member of the ill-fated party. He bore a ring similar to that worn by the body we had found earlier. We also found some coin and the red lantern from the sarcophagus chamber down there. Drying out as best we could (with a little magical help), we headed back to the sarcophagus chamber, having thoroughly explored this part of the dungeon.
--When we turned the sarcophagus to point to the blue lantern, nothing happened. Examining the blue alcove closely we discovered that it had an extremely high ceiling, and climbing up the lantern chain, we found a passage leading inward, starting from forty feet above the alcove floor. When we climbed up the lantern chain and looked, we found the passage ended in a huge stone carving that looked like a human face, its mouth open in a scream. Scoring on the floor led us to believe that some sort of wind had blown previous explorers backward toward the edge, and that they had tried to use knives to prevent being blown off the edge. (The remains of a corpse were on the floor below the blue lantern, crushed from a long fall.) We roped and tied ourselves off to a piton we drove into the floor, then proceeded, me first. The rope wasn't long enough, so I untied myself and kept walking forward. When I approached the stone face, it suddenly flashed colored lights (all the colors of the rainbow except green), and a great wind began blowing through the passage. I was blown backward off the edge and nearly killed. Gwynaleth cut herself free from the end of the rope, then caught the lantern chain and climbed down to help me. Fortunately, I hit my head on the wall coming down and was limp when I hit the ground, otherwise I might have broken every bone in my body. As it was, Gwynaleth¡¦s healing was all that saved me. We decided to call it a night after this, my companions carrying me back to the office.
Episode Two, In Which the Company Finds That Dungeoneering Sometimes Leads to Other Pursuits
Sunday, Ninth of Wealsun ¡XToday we rested, me recovering from my fall from the ¡§passage of the face¡¨ as we dubbed the strange magical trap we encountered last night. We¡¦ve decided to take over the mine office and fix it up, so we sent Alaxsim with money to obtain the title to the mine. He paid for it with 100 orbs of our treasure, so now we are property owners. We got some chickens, so we can have fresh eggs for breakfast and a little chicken soup for dinner now and then.
Moonday, Tenth of Wealsun ¡XThis evening we went into the Whispering Cairn once again, hoping to solve the mystery of the ¡§passage of the face¡¨ and penetrate further into that section of the dungeon. We found the sarcophagus pointing once again toward the red alcove, but we decided to point the sarcophagus back toward the blue alcove and light torches in all seven lanterns, to see if that would work. It did, and we found the mouth of the ¡§face¡¨ open wide to welcome us.
--We were not to find the dungeon¡¦s inner sanctum however. Beyond the face we encountered another devious trap that shot iron balls out of holes in the wall at us, knocking both myself and Alaxsim off the narrow catwalk that crossed the room, into the iron balls filling the chamber below. There a hideous creature attacked us¡Xlike a huge serpent with tentacles attached to its head. We managed to kill the thing, but were then confronted by a ghost. It was a horrific thing, the ghost of a poor boy who had ventured in here some years ago and had his neck broken by the wind trap blowing him off the edge of the passage. But the ghost might have been a lucky encounter after all, for it promised us that it would open the last door, beyond the iron ball trap, to let us into the inner chamber where the true sarcophagus lies (the one below is a fake meant to catch tomb robbers, like us, I suppose). We had only to perform one service¡Xto take his bones (the ones at the bottom of the blue alcove) and bury them alongside the rest of his family at the Land farmstead northeast of town.
--It was still early, so we set out to accomplish our task. Ardis Land, a cousin of the dead boy, who works in the stable of the Able Carter Coaching Inn, told us how to get to the Land Farmstead. When we got there, however, we discovered the other graves recently emptied. Knowing the boy would not be appeased if he was buried but his family wasn¡¦t, we followed tracks up to the farmhouse to try to find a clue as to who the grave robbers were. There we found a horrible creature, a great bearlike thing with feathers and an owl¡¦s beak, that almost had us for a midnight snack. Both Alaxsim and Alandrin were grievously wounded by the creature, but somehow Gwynaleth and I managed to kill it and save our comrades from a trip to the boneyard. Gwynaleth said the thing is an owlbear and its baby bonded to her and followed us back to the mine office. Meanwhile, we found an arm¡Xall that was left of one of the grave robbers¡Xwith a tattoo that I remember Garavin Vesst used to brand his slaves with before he went bankrupt and had his property taken over by Balabar Smenk. I know there is a gang of thugs employed by Smenk who used to be Vesst¡¦s slaves, led by the half-orc Kullen.
--After Gwynaleth eased the brothers¡¦ wounds a bit and we returned to our hideout, we tied up the baby owlbear and went into town to see what we could find out from Kullen and his crew. They hang out at the Feral Dog, so Alandrin went in to find them, and I went in separately, ready to run over to the Hungry Gar, where Allaxim and Gwynaleth were waiting, to get their help if things got rough. While waiting for Kullen to show up, Alandrin played dagger-toss with Tirra, an elf-woman who is with the party exploring the Stirgenest Cairn, and got himself introduced to Khellek, the wizard who is the brains behind the party, over at Lazare¡¦s. Alandrin came back not long afterwards, and had the chance to buy a round of drinks and sit with Kullen and his goons. Somehow he managed to pry out of Kullen that they dug up the bones at the behest of a necromancer in the employ of Balabar Smenk who is hiding out in the Old Observatory. Kullen was none too pleased about having to work for the necromancer, Filge, for he told Alandrin to ¡§bring me that bastard¡¦s eyeballs¡¨¡XI don¡¦t know if he was serious, but he kind of scares me. We went back to the mine office for the night to plan our next move. It seems we¡¦ll need to make a surprise attack on Filge, the necromancer tomorrow night, since we can¡¦t trust that corrupt old Sherriff Cubbin to do anything about the grave robbery¡XSmenk will probably pay him off to protect this necromancer, who seems to be his friend.
What We Found in Filge's Lair
Godsday, Eleventh of Wealsun ¡XDuring the day, Alaxsim went to the garrison for services and reported the situation to Valkus Dunn. I visited Allustan and told him what we had uncovered as well. In the evening we made a surprise attack on Filge in the Observatory, climbing onto the roof and entering the 2nd floor window into the tower. We caught him somewhat off guard, but had a hard battle nonetheless¡Xthe man had a number of animated skeletons and zombies of various descriptions. Gwynaleth¡¦s priestessly power kept most of these at bay while the rest of us ganged up on Filge. Alaxsim cut his arm off and nearly killed him. Gwynaleth healed him so we could question him after we ransacked his place. Filge had a letter from Smenk indicating that there is something fishy going on in the Dourstone Mine¡Xcultists studying strange green worms and unkillable zombies from the hills south of here, near the Mistmarsh.
In the lower level of the observatory, we found several gruesome and disturbing sights. Filge had placed a number of corpses around his dining table, as if they were good company over supper! We found the Land family¡¦s remains¡XFilge had animated the poor things to guard the door to the observatory, with one (a child, being used as a servant). What a disgusting man! Death is to good a fate for such a man¡XI pray that he will find misery going through life without a hand.
When we revived Filge, we found out Smenk had been down in the Dourstone Mine and knicked a sample worm, floating in alcohol in a jar¡Xwhich we found on Filge¡¦s desk. Filge said it was from a Spawn of Kyuss, a horrible undead creature created by a terrible being called Kyuss, about whom Filge knows little. When we further questioned Filge, he told us a harrowing tale about a cult called the Ebon Triad operating beneath Dourstone Mine that is trying to bring about something apocalyptic called the Age of Worms. Smenk called Filge in from the Free City to find out more about the cult, which he seems to be somehow involved with. Filge wasn¡¦t too clear exactly how, except that Smenk is worried about them. We agreed that we could not put Filge to death after questioning him, not without a proper trial, nor did we have any way to imprison him. And if we turn him over to the authorities here, Smenk will find a way to get him out of jail and take his revenge on us. So we sent him on his way, minus his treasures, and told him if we ever see him in Diamond Lake again we¡¦ll kill him. An evil man, but he looked a piteous sight heading up the Urnst Trail toward Greyhawk in the moonlight. We took his goods¡Xwe¡¦ll put them into service in the cause of Good, to see if we can find out more about this scary cult. Besides mundane treasures, we got his spellbook, and a bunch of strange potions, which he injects with a syringe. We also found a strange pair of smoked glass spectacles, a necromantic scroll of some sort, and an amulet we haven¡¦t yet identified.
We reburied the Land family remains in their proper places later this evening, Gwynaleth performing brief prayers of rest and protection for their remains and salvation for their souls.
What We Found in the Inner Sanctum of the Whispering Cairn
Waterday, Twelfth of Wealsun ¡XAlaxsim and I reported the events of the night before to our respective mentors. Allustan and I identified all but one of the potions we captured from Filge. Allustan is studying the green worm we got from Filge¡¦s lair. Allustan bought some of the strange potions we found in Filge¡¦s laboratory, so that he could study them. And we sold some of the other treasure we won in the Whispering Cairn, plus Filge¡¦s silver table service, to that scoundrel Tidwoad for a couple hundred gold orbs. We are preparing to penetrate the inner sanctum of the Whispering Cairn. If we survive, we shall see what old Ragnolin Dourstone is hiding in his mine. May the gods smile upon our enterprise!
Earthday, Thirteenth of Wealsun ¡XToday Allaxsim did his penance at the garrison, while Allandrin and Gwynaleth worked more on fixing up the abandoned mine office and making it more inhabitable. I spent the day in the laboratory at Allustan¡¦s, working on learning a useful new spell I found in Filge¡¦s spellbook and copying it into my own. Most of his spells were incomprehensible necromantic gibberish, but this one is supposed to create an invisible coat of armor around the wizard¡¦s body to protect him from swords and arrows. I hope it works, as I¡¦m finding that we adventurers need all the protection we can get. We plan to enter the inner sanctum of the Whispering Cairn tonight, and I¡¦m sure it will be a useful spell.
(The rest of this entry was written on the Fourteenth). In the evening, we all gathered once again at the mine office we¡¦re starting to call home, for what we hoped would be our final foray into the Whispering Cairn, to find the treasures of its inner sanctum. We passed through the passage of the face and lowered ourselves to the pit in the room with the iron ball trap to pass that hazard safely. When we hoisted ourselves back up to the beam by the door on its far side, we found the catch for that door released¡Xapparently our actions had laid Alastor Land¡¦s soul to rest, and his ghost had kept his part of the bargain before departing.
Beyond the door was a great circular chamber, filled with the sighing sound of rushing wind. Most of the chamber was a great chasm or pit, but a walkway around the outside led us past a number of strange scenes, images created of misty steam that animated along the walls like living bas-reliefs to show scenes of some long-forgotten war, perhaps the war that laid low the owner of this great tomb. Four bridges, two crumbling, crossed the chasm from the compass points toward a ring in the center of the chasm, which was the source of the rushing wind. When we stepped out onto one of the bridges to investigate the center, two strange figures like men in bright armor rose up through the hole in the windy central ring and stepped out onto the ring, their bright plumes and capes flickering in the wind. Before we could so much as draw our weapons, they clanged their swords together, blasting us with a discordant sound that seemed to rattle our skulls and hammer unbearably upon our chests. Shaking off the pain, Allaxsim and Allandrin charged into battle, while Gwynaleth and I cast spells to protect ourselves and help the party. One of the strange wind warriors battled with Allaxsim, but the other surprised us by flying across the chasm just as though he were charging across solid ground, wounding Gwynaleth and keeping her from using her bow to any effect. It was a hard-fought battle, but fortunately Allaxsim discovered that the creatures were made of some sort of porcelain, and in the lower part of the tomb Allandrin had found a wand that shatters glass and such-like substances by conjuring a high-pitched noise. The shatter-spell wand helped us to defeat the things, which proved to be made of nothing but enchanted air inside their ceramic armor, and breaking the armor sufficiently broke the enchantment. Nonetheless we barely survived the battle, for I had not prepared the best spells to fight this challenge, and though Allandrin destroyed one with the wand and Allaxsim badly damaged the other, Gwynaleth was the only one left standing at the end of the battle, and that only by dint of the gods¡¦ favor, as her last arrow found its mark in the breast of the charging wind warrior, splitting its porcelain breastplate and releasing its bound soul. (I am writing this entry late, and must take Gwynaleth¡¦s boasts for truth, as the rest of us were sorely wounded and did not see her heroic shot. Gwynaleth must have done something heroic, anyhow, because she was still walking and able to patch up our wounds afterwards).
[DM's note: Another near TPK, averted only by the fact that the last PC standing was a DMPC, which made it possible to resort to that deplorable but occasionally necessary expedient of fudged rolls. This was an enjoyable, but challenging adventure, and if I run it again I might tone several encounters down just a touch and make up for lost XP with a mini-side-quest.]
The True Tomb
Freeday, Fourteenth of Wealsun ¡XI suppose it was fitting that we woke up lying on the walkway of the great inner chamber of the Whispering Cairn this morning. Gwynaleth was able to call on enough of her healing powers to bring us back from the brink of death this morning, and after some trepidation, we decided to step on the column of air rushing up through the central ring of the chamber. The air whooshed us up to a much smaller chamber above, in which we found a huge stone sarcophagus resting on a dais, an effigy carved into its lid like the false sarcophagus below. The lid of this one was sealed to the point that it looked like a solid piece of stone, though. We could not figure out how to get it open. The one whose effigy was carved on the lid was also depicted in a bas-relief showing a scene from the apocalyptic long ago battle in which he was slain. A demon was holding a device looking like a loop, which was controlling a small black orb that touched the man, whose lower portions seemed to be portrayed as fading from existence in the carving. This figure had a glyph inscribed upon the diadem he wore, perhaps giving us a clue as to the name of the tomb¡¦s occupant. When we stepped up to the sarcophagus to investigate it, the figure in the bas relief spoke, startling us all. ¡§Speak my name,¡¨ it said. A riddle to which we didn¡¦t know the answer, but probably the solution to opening the sarcophagus and retrieving whatever is inside. (It feels a bit like grave-robbing to do this, but somehow, I feel in my bones that we were meant to have this treasure. I¡¦m not sure why, but the tales often tell of lost artifacts recovered by heroes just in time to perform some great and necessary deed in the fight against evil. A romantic fancy, perhaps, or a rationalization for looting, but we¡¦ve risked too much to give up now.) Thinking about it for a while, we remembered that Allustan had sent for a book from the Greyhawk Library, The Chronicle of Chan, which we hope will allow us to solve the riddle of the glyphs we¡¦ve found. Perhaps the glyph on the diadem is the name of the interred, and we have only to find out how to speak it to open the coffin. After arriving at this conclusion, I copied the glyph and suggested we go to see if the book had arrived.
As it turned out, the book had arrived last night on the last stage coach from Greyhawk, and Allustan had spent much of the night perusing it. When we got back to town, we found much about the ancient realm of the Vaati, or Wind Dukes, who had built this tomb, and found that the glyph on both the false sarcophagus and the real one above the inner sanctum matched the name of Zosiel, a minor hero of the Wind Dukes who was killed in an ancient battle on the Plains of Pesh between the Wind Dukes and the Forces of Chaos, led by the Queen of Chaos and Miska the Wolf-Spider. Zosiel was destroyed by a sphere of annihilation, a terrible weapon that erases the existence of all that it touches. Thankfully, Allustan said, the spheres were all hidden long ago so that they cannot be used by the forces of evil.
Armed with our knowledge, we returned to the cairn¡¦s inner sanctum this evening. When we spoke Zosiel¡¦s name, a blue sheet of light shined out from a crack that appeared in the sarcophagus lid, and we were able to lift the lid and find the treasures inside. Zosiel¡¦s remains were not there¡Xlending credence to the story of his annihilation by the Sphere. But we did find his silver diadem, which now graces Gwynaleth¡¦s brow, and, we hope, will give us some sort of magical aid. She says that it gives her divinely granted power greater strength. Also within were a pair of horns, seemingly those of the demon in the carving, and a sealed box. When we took this back to Allustan, he bid us to break the seal, and within we found the strange loop of adamantine the demon used to control the Sphere that killed Zosiel. Allustan bade me to keep that, and I did. ¡§One must always be prepared,¡¨ he said, with a wink and a smile. Perhaps he knows something that I don¡¦t. I begin to feel as though the gods have something in mind for us, but I have no idea what it shall be. Perhaps it is better that way¡Xto know too much of one¡¦s fate would be maddening.
Episode Three, in which the Company of Light Sheds Innocent Blood While Investigating the Suspicious Activities at Dourstone Mine
Starday, Fifteenth of Wealsun ¡Xa fortnight it¡¦s been already since we embarked on our new careers as adventurers, and what an eventful fortnight it¡¦s been. Today, we were ready for some rest, but it was a work day for Allaxsim, who resumed his penance, and his duties, with Valkus Dunn. He also conferred with Valkus Dunn, to see what should be done about the Ebon Triad, this cult that Smenk is involved with at the bottom of the Dourstone mine. If the cult gives a creep like Smenk the willies, it sure gives them to me. Anyway, Dunn more or less encouraged us to investigate the cult, but told Allaxsim we¡¦re on our own if we run afoul of the Sherriff or the Mayor in doing so. Basically, he doesn¡¦t think either will move against Dourstone or Smenk without overpowering evidence that can¡¦t be ignored or swept under the carpet. Captain Trask won¡¦t want the garrison interfering in local affairs, anyhow. So, it¡¦s up to us to find out what¡¦s going on, discreetly.
While Allaxsim was mucking out the latrines, Gwynaleth and Allandrin were reconnoitering Dourstone mine. I¡¦ve always thought Dourstone was a secretive, suspicious man¡Xhe may be of my own kind, but I never much liked him. Doesn¡¦t seem to associate much with the Greysmere dwarves at all, and that¡¦s odd, since there aren¡¦t enough dwarves here in town to warrant dividing ourselves up by clan ties or such¡Xand he used to live in Greysmere, it is said. Anyhow, besides getting the layout of the mine yard and learning about the guards¡¦ routines from a nearby hilltop, the two of them saw something mighty interesting¡Xthey followed a cart from Dourstone to a tapped out mine owned by Smenk, where the carters loaded supplies from the old mine office and took them back into Dourstone Mine. Odd for Dourstone to be buying supplies from Smenk¡XI always thought they were rivals, and anyway I wouldn¡¦t trust Smenk to give me a bargain¡Xhe screws everyone in this town whenever he gets the chance. What was even fishier was that, was that Allandrin got close enough behind the carters to overhear some of their conversation. They were speaking in an Aerdy accent! Foreigners, and none too savory, I¡¦ll warrant, if they¡¦re from Ahlissa or the North Kingdom¡Xone of the states that has recently formed from the shards of that decadent and tyrannical old Great Kingdom. They wore black cloaks with their hoods up, despite the warm ¡§low summer¡¨ weather¡Xtrying to keep from having their faces marked, almost certainly.
I was working on another spell from Filge¡¦s spellbook all day, one that makes statues or other such inanimate objects able to speak a phrase or two. An interesting and potentially entertaining spell¡Xgood for pranks if nothing else. The three of us met for dinner at Allustan¡¦s and discussed things more, and determined that we should check out Dourstone Mine as soon as possible. In the evening we went shopping for equipment¡XGwynaleth buying some magic arrows from Venelle the Fletcher, and I buying an ¡§adventurer¡¦s wand¡¨ from Tyrol Ebberle. I¡¦ll have to play with it to see what it does¡Xhopefully it¡¦s worth the price.
Afterward, we went back to the Mine Office to retire for the night, but Allandrin decided to hang out in town, to share a few drinks with the miners at the Feral Dog to find out what he could about the inside of Dourstone Mine, and how we might sneak in to investigate. He found out precious little¡XDourstone employs only indentured convicts and maimed men who once were punished for crimes. The former are locked in the mine yard as a precaution, while the latter are only given Freedays off. Poor fellows, whatever they did to deserve punishment, that is a harsh life. Anyhow, it looks as though we¡¦ll have to wait six days for Freeday if we want to sneak in in disguise. Otherwise, we¡¦ll have to find another way. Allandrin nearly paid dearly for this scanty information¡Xjust as he was leaving, that thug Kullen wandered in to the Feral Dog, half-drunk as usual. Allandrin made the mistake of telling him we¡¦d let Filge go¡XKullen was apparently quite serious about wanting Filge dead. He roughed Allandrin up a bit to prove his point¡Xsaying something about wanting us to track Filge down and bring back his eyeballs¡Xand Allandrin only escaped by throwing a laughing charm on him and slipping out the door while the beastly fellow was doubled up guffawing. A resourceful lad, Allandrin! Anyhow, I fear that sooner or later we¡¦re going to have a real run-in with Kullen.
A Conversation with Gwynaleth's Mother--We Settle on a Plan for Investigating the Ebon Triad
Sunday, Sixteenth of Wealsun ¡XThis morning while we were eating breakfast we had a surprise visit from Gwynaleth¡¦s mother. She was incensed that Gwynaleth had ¡§run away¡¨ and was mortified when she heard that Gwynaleth was ¡§shacking up with a human.¡¨ She had come to take Gwynaleth back so that she would not dishonor her family and her race. Well, Gwynaleth seems to have grown a little courage to stand up to her mother over the last two weeks, and she set her mother straight on a few things. No, she wasn¡¦t shacking up with any humans, and if her mother hadn¡¦t been so prissy and domineering she wouldn¡¦t have even needed to share the same quarters with them. (Not that I see anything greatly wrong in love between people of two different races, mind you, but it¡¦s not fair of Gwynaleth¡¦s mother to always think the worst of her daughter in this way.) ¡§And no I won¡¦t go back to live with you in stuffy old Ellival Moonmeadow¡¦s house,¡¨ she said. ¡§I¡¦m an ordained priestess of Ehlonna, and I¡¦ve been called by Ehlonna to follow my own quest. I love you, Mother, but I cannot follow your wishes anymore.¡¨ The older woman was shocked by her daughter¡¦s brazen defiance, but she must have either decided to cut her ties with her daughter or accept her daughter¡¦s words. Her face was white and cold with anger, but all she said was, ¡§Very well, if you feel that is the case, you are free to travel your own road.¡¨ Then she stalked out and rode back to town at a gallop. I do not know what inner reflections led Gwynaleth to say these things, but I know from my own friendship with her that she is sincere and reverent, and that she would not invoke the name of her goddess in vain. I suppose she, like me, feels that we have been chosen for some special task¡Xeven if we do not know precisely what that calling will entail.
Well, the rest of our breakfast conversation was rather subdued after this outburst, but we managed to talk a bit about our plans for the Dourstone Mine. After much deliberation, we decided that it is best if we move quickly against the Ebon Triad cult. This way they will have less time to find out that we are on to them and take measures against us. And whatever evil plot they are hatching might bear its poisonous fruit if we leave them alone too long. Allaxsim managed to purchase a wound-curing wand from the chapel of Hieroneous yesterday, which will help us if we get into a difficult battle. My tests of Ebberle¡¦s ¡§adventurer¡¦s wand¡¨ last night revealed that it sprays magical flame from its tip in great gouts. Fortified with these two useful items, we feel ready to move on the cultists, and have decided to take them on tonight, when darkness will aid our efforts to sneak into the mine yard undetected. May the gods smile upon us and protect us!
We Enter Dourstone's Mine Yard by Stealth--An Unfortunate Death--The Entrance to the Ebon Triad's Hideout
Night entry, Wealsun 16 ¡XWell, I suppose it to be well past midnight by now, but I must calm myself with a sip or two of wine before sleeping anyway, so I might as well recount the evening¡¦s events. We waited until things were quiet and all but the late-night carousers at the Feral Dog and the Emporium were indoors before we walked back to town. We watched by starlight from the hilltop above Dourstone Mine until we had timed the patrols, then Allandrin threw a rope with a grappling hook up and scaled the palisade. By the time the rest of us were up and over the wall, a patrol was walking up the parapet toward us, and all we could do was to quickly jump down on the inside, hide under the wooden parapet-ledge, and hope they didn¡¦t see us. Allandrin quickly threw the rope down into the bushes on the outside, but twisted his ankle a bit when he jumped down on the inside of the palisade. He had barely crawled back under the ledge when the patrol came tromping along overhead. It was soon apparent from their conversation that they had spotted Allandrin¡¦s flitting shadow, and were suspicious that someone had climbed over the wall. They were onto us. And they were speaking the tongue of the Dwur-folk. Dwarves! Of course Ragnolin would hire his own kin to be night watchmen, with their keen night eyes. Fortunately, they didn¡¦t raise the alarm¡Xperhaps the sargent wanted to make sure he was not seen to be jumping at shadows. The leader sent two of his men in opposite directions to the nearest ladders, to comb the bushes below while he and his other man wound their crossbows and watched for their quarry. This was our chance, and Allandrin, gritting his teeth at the pain in his ankle, stood up and showed himself, while the other two were far away, and at the same time he spoke an enchantment that put the two dwarves above us to sleep. Then we ran (or hobbled, in Allandrin¡¦s case) down the hill a short way toward a small thicket of bushes. We hoped to get the drop on their comrades, and as they came near, Allandrin tried his sleeping spell upon them, but one resisted it, and as he raised his head to call the alarm, Gwynaleth¡¦s arrow took him in the throat and killed him. We bound and gagged the sleeping Dwarves and hid them under the parapet. Their dead comrade we put next to them¡XI recognized him. Firgi son of Halgi, a young man from Greystoke. I can only guess that he was an innocent dupe who thought he was being paid to guard a mine and had no idea what his boss is hiding in its depths. This night I feel regret that he had to die, but in light of what we have found in the depths of Dourstone mine I do not regret that Gwynaleth silenced him to protect our mission.
We managed to sneak into the mine after this without further trouble, and found a boarded up drift marked as dangerous. The fact that some of the boards were nailed from the inside was a give-away, though¡Xsomeone had boarded it shut from inside. We knocked out the boards and squeezed in¡Xthen put the boards back to conceal our presence in the mine as long as possible. At the end of the drift, we found what we had sought, an elevator. Our hearts pounding, we readied our weapons and lowered ourselves down the shaft.
We Fight Our Way Into the Shrine of the Six-Armed Tyrant
Night of Wealsun 16, cont. When the elevator reached the bottom of the shaft, we were accosted by two cloaked guards. They quickly saw that we did not belong, and one tried to hold us off while the other ran off to spread the alarm. We felled both quickly enough¡Xthey proved to be tieflings (as they call those whose fiendish blood manifests itself in strange defects of the human form¡Xthese had small horns on their foreheads and tails hidden under their cloaks. Unfortunately, the one fled through the great vaulted cavern into which the elevator had lowered us, and up a corridor, where he knocked wildly on a large oaken door just as Gwynaleth¡¦s arrow took him below the ribs. The tiefling¡¦s knock had aroused other guards, who soon poured through the door, their rusty armor clanking and echoing through the dark cathedral-like chamber. As they advanced, I unleashed a spell, filling the passage with sticky webs that held them fast. We heard shouting and panicked movement through the open door behind them¡Xwe had lost our surprise. We set fire to the webs, thinking to roast this first group of guards, but some of them escaped and attacked us. Our sword blows broke through their rusty armor, revealing them to be animated skeletons. We dispatched eight of these undead warriors, then advanced through the door into an entry chamber.
At this point we heard a loud squeeling and grunting, and a massive boar, bigger than any I¡¦ve ever seen before, bore down upon us. Before we could move to protect ourselves, the beast was upon us, slashing madly with its razor tusks. In the furious combat that ensued I was wounded badly by the boar and fell unconscious, and it was only when Gwynaleth revived me with her healing that I saw the boar was dead, with her arrow through its eye. We had no time to recover, though, as two more tiefling guards advanced on us, nearly slaying Allaxsim with their axes. Seeing a mass of spear-bearing men approaching us down a corridor inside the compound, I cast another web spell to halt them, while our weakened party dealt with the tieflings. I used the flame-spouting wand to burn one, then torched the web to roast the warriors. Some of them emerged alive, however, and one skewered me with his spear, and I again lost consciousness.
When I came to again, Gwynaleth was using the curing wand to close up our wounds and make us fit for battle again. After a quick search of some side rooms, we advanced down the main corridor, finding the boar¡¦s empty pen on one side and a barred door on the other, before coming upon a large, open set of double doors. Allaxsim pressed forward and advanced in to the room, and as we followed the doors slammed shut behind us and we found ourselves trapped. We were in a huge chamber, its floor covered with sand, the center of it dominated by a huge, hideous idol of Hextor. The chamber was surrounded on three sides by a 20 foot high gallery, and as the doors shut, we heard the evil laugh of a man in black armor surcoated with the six-arrowed fist of Hextor, whose scarred face was missing an eye. He spoke with the grating accent of an Aerdi, not surprising given his faith. ¡§You haf slain mein veakest minions,¡¨ he said, ¡§now let us see if you can face ze battle trial of ze six-armed tyrant!¡¨ We looked up, and saw two more heavily armored Hextorian priests, three tieflings, and a pair of shuffling reptilian zombies much like the ones Filge had.
The Battle-Temple of Hextor--Theldrick's Scrolls
Night of Wealsun 16, cont. We shouted our battle cries, but were sorely pressed, with the tieflings peppering us with arrows from the gallery. The three priests began mumbling their incantations, but Gwynaleth struck the first blow, invoking the power of Ehlonna Ehlenestra and raising her silver unicorn high to ward off the zombies. Twin beams of sunlight seemed to flash from her holy symbol, burning the zombies to ash before our eyes. This infuriated the high priest, and he spoke a blasphemous curse that soon had Gwynaleth cowering, then summoned a huge, fire-breathing hound from the depths of hell to attack her. Meanwhile, one of the other priests lept down and pressed Allaxsim hard, whirling his great flail around with both hands and hitting him several times with its spiked head. Allandrin tried to climb up to the gallery with the help of a grappling hook, so that he could distract the tiefling archers, but by the time he got close one of them had drawn his axe and positioned himself to prevent his enemy from gaining the top, so Allandrin had to drop back to the sandy floor. A hard battle ensued, and we all would have been slain had not Allandrin taken Gwynaleth¡¦s healing wand and used it to keep Allaxsim, myself, and Gwynaleth up and fighting. Finally, Allaxsim struck down the priest he was fighting, and this priest's companion, who apparently held him dear, leapt down to his aid, using her own wand to cure his wounds. Finally, the fire breathing hound returned to the foul depths from which it had been summoned, and all of us were able to press the priestess and her mate hard, felling him and forcing her to drop her wand and defend herself. At this point, the tieflings leapt down upon us, but the tide of battle had turned, and we made short work of them and the priestess. By the time the high priest joined the fray, he was unable to do more than give us a good battle, and he fell to Allandrin¡¦s sword as well.
After the battle, we searched the entire complex, and found no more enemies. We barred the front door, and can only hope that no one batters it down, for though Gwynaleth was able to restore our sliced up skins, we must have rest before we continue. We threw the bodies in the pig sty, and gathered a considerable treasure from these Hextorians¡Xenough armor and weapons to outfit a platoon of soldiers, as well as some useful items that appear to have magical powers, and a goodly pile of jewelry, coins, and carven artwork. Perhaps we¡¦ll be able to outfit ourselves a little better for the next phase of our quest.
We also found a journal kept by the high priest, whose name was Theldrick. The journal is a bit cryptic, and is full of ramblings about visions of worms that are supposed to burst forth from the earth as though it were a rotten apple, awakening some foul Overgod in the process. The visionary seems to be someone named Grallak Kur. A strange mage called the Faceless One is involved somehow as well, seemingly as interpreter of Grallak Kur¡¦s dreams. A strange blank scroll we found on Theldrick¡¦s desk may be some sort of encrypted message from the Faceless One, if I understand the reference to a ¡§scroll¡¨ that is ¡§written in cipher¡¨ correctly¡Xbut I have no idea as yet how to even make out the invisible words upon it, let alone decipher its message. It was evident from Theldrick¡¦s journal, though, that there is a good deal of mistrust between these three parties.
In any event, when we removed the bodies from the cathedral chamber, we saw two other doors leading out of it, and it must be that these doors lead to the chambers that house Grallak Kur and the Faceless One. Assuming that they do not discover our presence tonight, we shall investigate further tomorrow, and see what we can find. Thank the gods for our narrow victory this night, and I pray that they may keep us safe until we are rested enough to carry on the fight.
Episode Four, In Which the Company of the Light Learns More About the Prophesied Age of Worms
Moonday, 17th of Wealsun ¡XThis morning we equipped ourselves as best we could with the equipment and magical items taken from our enemies. The big find was Theldrick¡¦s fine suit of plate armor, which is just the right size for Allaxsim. I took a wand with arcane powers of some sort¡Xbut I¡¦m not quite sure what it does yet. We used a key that we found on Theldrick¡¦s person to enter the stone door directly opposite to the temple of Hextor across the cathedral chamber. Beyond the door, a rough hewn passage led downward into a complex of natural caves.
We soon encountered the inhabitants of these caves¡Xhideous eyeless humanoids of the underdark that my people call grimlocks. We felled two guards in the first cavern and the third retreated to warn his fellows. As we entered the second cavern, they unleashed frightening animals they kept as pets¡Xthe size of a small panther, these creatures pulled the skin back from their faces, revealing a hideous visage of flayed muscle and bone. Gwynaleth later told me these beasts are called krenshars. They didn¡¦t shake us from our purpose, though, and we slew them without much trouble, and also their kennel keeper, who wore a wolf-skull mask covered with red paint, and the grimlock guard who had fled here to spread the alarm.
Our problems began here, though. The krenshar cave ended in a fifty-foot deep chasm, which the grimlocks apparently scale using a set of spikes driven into the cliff-face. Allaxsim descended first, then Allandrin, and when he was part way down and I had just started my descent, two grimlocks we had not spotted began throwing tanglefoot bags at us from a ledge on the opposite side of the chasm. They missed, but I wasn¡¦t about to expose myself to their attacks all the way down the cliff-face, especially once they took out bows and began shooting arrows at us. So I quickly rolled back onto the upper ledge, and Gwynaleth and I shot at them from up there. We couldn¡¦t see them very well in the shadows, however, and Allandrin¡¦s attempts to illuminate them by casting a lighting spell on a stone and throwing it up to their ledge were of limited use, as they kept pushing it back down. There was a tunnel leading out of the bottom of the chasm, though, and the two brothers signalled that they were going to follow it and see if they could find a way up to another tunnel that entered the chasm just below the archers¡¦ ledge. They disappeared for a minute or so, but finally Gwynaleth and I heard the faint sounds of battle echoing down the tunnel, and we decided we had better come to our friends¡¦ aid. So I cast a web spell on the archers and pinned them to the ledge, so that we could descend and aid our comrades.
By the time we got to the bottom, a raging she-grimlock burst forth from the tunnel, wielding a pair of wicked, rusty knives. Somehow the two of us managed to slay this barbaric enemy, then ran into the tunnel to render aid to our comrades. They both lay bleeding and unconscious on the floor, but fortunately Gwynaleth was able to bring them round. Not far away were the bodies of two more strange enemies¡Xsmall climbing creatures that we dwarves call ¡§chokers.¡¨ These had ambushed our comrades, and once they had been dispatched, the she-grimlock had lept down upon them from above, her knives slashing them to ribbons. If we had not come to their aid when we did, they would have bled to death.
The brothers had fought the chokers in the bottom of another tall cavern, and we could see twenty feet up a rope bridge crossing this gulf. We guessed that this bridge allowed the archers to move from their living quarters up to the ledge. Allandrin threw a rope and grappling hook up to hook the bridge, then began to climb up. As he did three more grimlocks appeared at the far end of the bridge and began casting javelins. We managed to slay two with our hail of arrows, though, and drove the other off, allowing the rest of us to gain the rope bridge. Inside the tunnel leading back toward the archers¡¦ ledge we concocted a plan to deal with the archers before moving onward.
Climbing up the spikes the grimlocks used as a ladder to the point just under their overhang, Allandrin used a torch to set fire to the magic web. Then he cast a spell of silence to deaden the sound on the ledge. Since grimlocks rely on scent and hearing to perceive their enemies, they were effectively blinded by this technique, and as soon as the webs had burned away, Allandrin rolled up onto the ledge and made short work of them.
[DM's Note: The Grimlock barbarian was another near-TPK, this time brought on by the serious tactical error of splitting the party.]
Gwynaleth Tortures the Grimlock Chieftain--Grallak Kur Meets His Doom--"The Age of Worms is Upon Us"
Wealsun 17, cont. Having thus dispatched the enemies behind us and ensured that we would have a safe route of retreat, we gathered our strength and headed across the rope bridge. The passage on the other side led steeply upward and debouched into the bottom of a ten-foot deep pit within a larger cavern. The rest of the grimlock tribe were standing around the rim of the pit, pikes in hand, waiting there to greet us. We had to retreat back into the cave mouth to avoid their jabs, but their fearsome chieftain lept down into the pit to challenge us. His great strength was apparent, and even wearing Theldrick¡¦s suit of plate armor, Allaxsim was not safe from the blows of his axe. Gwynaleth aided our brave paladin, though, exposing herself to the jabbing pikemen, then calling on Ehlonna¡¦s power and raising her holy symbol. A thin, intense beam of sunlight shot from her silver unicorn, striking the chieftain¡¦s mail shirt, which soon heated to a glowing red. The chieftain screamed and writhed in pain, but only redoubled his furious blows against Allaxsim. Allaxsim took advantage of his wildness, though, and it seemed that as he ran the chief through with his sword, a bolt of Hieroneous¡¦ lightning shot from the blade, striking him dead in mid swing. From there we were able to wrest a couple of pikes from the grimlocks and use them to pick off the enemies ringing the pit. Finally, we cleared enough space that Allandrin was able to scramble up out of the pit and face them on level ground. He was nearly pincushioned for his trouble, but his efforts gave the rest of us a chance to climb out of the pit, and finally we overcame the rest of the grimlocks.
After bandaging ourselves up and making a quick search of two adjoining caves, we proceeded downward through another natural passageway. This passage emptied into a large cavern filled with the sick, sweet mixed scent of rotting meat and burning herbs. The far end of the cavern was wreathed in smoke that the light of our torches could not pierce, but we saw three grimlocks on the floor of the cavern below the ledge where the passage came out. They were fearsome in appearance, their faces covered with bronze masks depicting the monstrous, fanged visage of Erythnul, god of slaughter, and their skin pierced in dozens of places with sharp pieces of bone. Allaxsim and Allandrin lept down to engage the grimlocks, but we soon found we had another, more formidable opponent hidden in the smoky darkness at the far end. Gwynaleth¡¦s arrows and my crossbow bolts could not find their mark on this opponent¡¦s body, even when we caught glimpses of him through the smoke. He called on the unholy power of Erythnul, conjuring a glowing red morningstar out of thin air to smite the brothers, along with several other foul spells¡Xa shrieking battle cry that made my head hurt even when I covered my ears, and a blasphemous word that induced terrible, creeping sense of dread that was hard to fight down. Finally, with his guards slain he disappeared from sight, but soon reappeared among the two brothers, laying about him with his great morningstar. He clobbered Allandrin and we were afraid he had crushed the poor man¡¦s skull, but finally Allaxsim¡¦s blows took their toll on him. As he reeled back from a blow that laid open his shoulder, I took out my ¡§adventurer¡¦s wand¡¨ and set him alight, and thus he met his end. Fortunately, Gwynaleth was able to patch up Allandrin--the Grimlock priest hadn't cracked his brain-pan, at least.
Apparently this powerful priest was the one Theldrick¡¦s journal calls Grallak Kur, and what a fearsome creature he was. When we looked at his charred body, we could see that he had sewn a pair of hideously large, mummified eyeballs over his useless eye sockets. His chest was branded with Erythnul¡¦s monstrous visage. In a hidden cranny of the cave, we found Grallak Kur¡¦s treasure and a strange scroll filled with the spidery scribblings of a ¡§man¡¨ who wrote without seeing the words he set on the page. A strange phenomenon, and I suppose his hand must have been guided by some fell spirit or perhaps by the fiendish Erythnul himself. Now that I am back in the safety of our temporary lair in the temple of Hextor, I am puzzling through it. It seems Grallak Kur¡¦s visions told him of a great power that stirs in the world beyond and promises to overwhelm the world with a swarm of worms. Madness! The scroll also speaks of a power growing in the pool of the Dark Cathedral (whatever that is)¡Xit claims that this power will be a champion for the Ebon Triad, but that some still greater force drives the power of this evil forward. The scroll ends with ominous words, and the ink was still wet on this part of the scroll when I found it: ¡§At last the will of the Ebon Triad be done. With the return of great Kyuss, the Age of Worms is finally upon us!¡¨ If these are more than the crazed imaginings of a mad seer, then we have stumbled across some deep and terrible secret in these caverns, a secret that we have yet to fathom in its entirety, but one with potentially world-shattering implications.
Well, there is little else to report for this day. We left the grimlocks¡¦ bodies to rot in the caves, but relieved them of a few high-quality weapons and armor, not to mention thoroughly rooting out their stashes of treasure. Our crusade will require wealth, I have no doubt, and I feel no remorse for plundering the ill-gotten treasures of these beastly creatures. We are resting once again in the temple of Hextor, and soon I shall lay down my pen and try to get a few hours¡¦ rest, for I am wearied and drained from my spell-casting.
The Dark Cathedral's pool seeths--we enter a deadly maze--a flock of crow-men
Godsday, 18th of Wealsun¡X(Entry written on the 19th). It is difficult to mark the passage of days when one is underground for a prolonged period and there is no opportunity to observe the sun. The methods used by my ancestors when they took refuge in deep mines underneath the earth are not available to me now, and so all I can do is guess that the events detailed in this entry took place some time on the 18th. We finished our rest and prepared for another foray into the unexplored part of this subterranean temple, the area we suppose to be dedicated to treacherous Vecna, the Lord of Secrets. We hoped that we might find he whom Theldrick calls the Faceless One, and we hoped that the Faceless One¡¦s secrets would allow us to get to the bottom of the mysteries alluded to in Theldrick¡¦s and Grallak Kur¡¦s writings.
Before we entered the third part of the complex, we decided to examine more closely the Dark Cathedral that forms the common entryway into the three temples. The southern part of this chamber is a great domed vault with a square pool twenty-five feet across built into its center. The pool is filled with a dark, opaque liquid¡Xit might be water, but I didn¡¦t dare to touch it. It was seething like a kettle of stew sitting over a hot fire, yet even from several feet away it seemed to radiate cold and not heat. Platforms built into the walls and connected by a staircase overlook the pool¡Xthey showed evidence of human or animal sacrifices being conducted upon them, and the uppermost platform had a basket of gold and an idol left in offering.
The key we found on Grallak Kur¡¦s person let us through the last door off this chamber, opposite the pool. When we entered, we found a dark maze of narrow passages. We heard what sounded like a woman crying, but all of us were a bit suspicious that it might be an illusion of some sort, designed to draw us into the maze where we would become lost. I suggested we use the ¡§right-hand rule,¡¨ an old dwarvish trick for exploring mazes without getting lost. We tried this tack, but before long we discovered that getting lost was not the only hazard in this place. As we passed an intersection, I was hit by a thrown object that proved to be a glass jar of alchemist¡¦s fire¡Xa nasty concoction of oil and phosphor that soaks the victim¡¦s clothes and sets them alight like a torch. While I was trying to douse the flames, my companions chased the thrower. It turned out we had been ambushed by several strange creatures that looked a bit like crows¡Xcrows the size of humans, with hands instead of wings. They appeared out of nowhere, and aside from the one that Allaxsim managed to take down with his sword, disappeared quickly into nothingness.
We continued through the maze for a little while longer, and were ambushed again, and yet again. The third time, Gwynaleth spotted one of the fleeing attackers pop through a secret door, and gave chase. We followed her as quickly as we could, and after several twists and turns, the crow-man we were pursuing pulled a bead from a necklace he was wearing and threw it at us¡Xit burst in a loud explosion of flame that singed Gwynaleth and Allandrin, but Allandrin managed to tumble past our adversary and trap him so that he couldn¡¦t get away. As we were attacking this one, others popped out and tried to aid him, including one who shot a strange green ray that made Allaxsim so weak that he could hardly move in his armor until I cast a spell of ¡§bull¡¦s strength¡¨ upon him. The four of us fought a running battle with half a dozen or so of the crow-men for a few minutes, along with two huge weasel-like things that must have been their guard animals. Gwynaleth calmed these beasts and they slunk away, after we had dispatched the crow-men, and we had a few moments to recover and examine the bodies of our adversaries a bit more closely. We took a few items from them that we guessed to be magical, then continued to explore the maze further, looking carefully where we thought the crow-men had emerged from additional secret passages. The whole place turned out to be riddled with them, and the secret doors concealing them seemed to open of their own accord for the crow-men while it took us a good push to get through each one. The crow-men were not fearsome, but this hit-and-run battle gave them the advantage¡Xthey were wearing us down bit by bit.
Well, after a few moments of bandaging up and applying magical healing, we continued to explore, moving to investigate the sound of the woman crying, which seemed to be coming from another part of the maze. It did not take us long to find out that we had walked into another ambush, and this time our ambushers gave dog-like barks¡Xcalling their companions to their aid, I suppose. Another running battle ensued in which we killed several more of the crow-men and once again faced their guard weasels, this time killing them. After this battle, we worked our way around the outermost passages of the maze, looking for secret doors which might take us beyond the maze to the Faceless One¡¦s hiding place. A devious trap this maze had been, but we were undeterred in our determination to hunt down the Vecnan priest, and it was not long before we found what we were looking for¡Xa secret door that led into a storeroom, beyond which was a passageway leading into some sort of bunkroom. We figured we had found our way into the sanctum of the Vecnans, and cast several spells and drank potions to protect ourselves from their magic and aid us in battle. Unfortunately, the door to the bunkroom squeaked when Allaxsim opened it, and as we entered we heard a cry of alarm from the next room¡Xwe had been heard!
A shadow of madness--a battle of wizardry--the Faceless One's last words
18th of Wealsun (continued)--Allaxsim charged around the corner into the room from which the cry had issued. I heard a cry and the sickly sound of a sword cutting into human flesh, then saw a rainbow of twisting beams of light flash in the doorway¡Xsomeone had cast a color spray spell upon him to try to stun him. Gwynaleth shot past me and ran to his aid. Shortly afterwards, a mass of sticky threads exploded through the doorway, just as I was turning the corner into the room, catching me like a fly in a spider¡¦s web. I heard the muffled sounds of struggling somewhere ahead of me, but couldn¡¦t see through the thick webs what was happening to my companions. What I could see, though, made me freeze in fright¡Xa gray, shadowy form looking like a wisp of smoke in the shape of a hooded man floated toward me through the web. Its whispers gnawed at my mind, seeming to beckon me to follow it on the path of madness. Its spectral hand seemed to reach inside me, tugging at my mind¡¦s moorings. Just as I thought the chains holding my senses fast would part, it moved past me, and twisting in the glutinous strands that held me I saw dimly through the web that Allandrin was staring dumbly at this shadow of madness, his mind numbed by its insane babbling as it approached him with its maddening touch.
There was only one thing to do, though it was dangerous. One hand was free, and I was able to reach down through the webs and pull out my ¡§adventurer¡¦s wand.¡¨ I waved the wand and set the webs on fire, causing the shadow of madness to recoil from the magical flames. As the sticky webbing caught fire, it singed my beard and face, but I was able to get free as the strands burned through, and I whipped out my other wand, a treasure taken from one of the crow-men, and began to pummel it with the little balls of force that we in the magic business call ¡§magic missiles.¡¨ I managed to avoid the thing¡¦s ghostly arms, and after a few more shots the shadow of madness dissipated and its crazy muttering was silenced. As Allandrin shook off his stupor I turned to aid our comrades.
The room Allaxsim and Gwynaleth had charged into was a temple, and it appeared that Allaxsim had copied my idea for freeing himself from the web, using a vial of alchemist¡¦s fire to incinerate the wizard¡¦s acolyte he had wounded and simultaneously burn off the web, as he later told me. Unfortunately, while he and Gwyn were enmeshed, the Faceless One himself had entered the chamber and summoned a massive black centipede with hellish red markings on its head, and the two were trying to fend off its attacks. I knew that it was the Faceless One behind the centipede, for I caught a glimpse of his masked face as I aimed a magic missile at him. Meanwhile, Gwyn said a prayer to protect Allaxsim from the huge verminous creature, and he tried to squeeze between the thing and a column near the chamber wall. I was startled when hands reached out of the column and grabbed him, holding him fast. What fiendish magic inhabited this place? Before any of us could recover, a bolt of lightning shot from the Faceless One¡¦s outstretched hand and hit all of us except Gwynaleth. This evil mage was hardly touched by my magic missiles and Gwyn¡¦s arrows, and counterattacked with a ball of flame that rolled along the floor and stopped where Allaxsim stood, unable to escape it because of the hands grappling him. I spoke a dispelling charm to put out the fire, but Allaxsim was nearly felled by another lightning bolt. I replied with a web spell of my own, catching the Faceless One and his three remaining acolytes as well as the centipede. This gave us some time to focus on the centipede and for Gwynaleth and Allandrin to apply some healing magic to counteract the Faceless One¡¦s magical blasts.
My web did not last long, for one of the acolytes borrowed my tactic of burning the web with magical fire. When the smoke cleared, one of his companions had burned to death and one had disappeared, but he and his master were free.
Well, this was turning into a real wizard¡¦s duel, and the spells kept flying¡Xrays of scorching fire and chilling frost, and even more web spells. I cast a spell to make Allaxsim grow to the size of a giant before I was caught like a fly again, and I did not get to see his battle with two fiendish apes the Faceless One summoned, which took place in an outer chamber of the unholy shrine, nor did I witness the third acolyte fall to his sword. Allandrin and I were caught in the webs for much of this battle, but finally we ended up burning our way out, just about the time that Allaxsim shouted that the Faceless One had retreated to his laboratory and locked the stone door somehow. Before I knew it, the evil mage burst forth from the back door to the lab, which happened to be near where I had gotten free from the web. He charged me, dagger drawn, and stabbed me in the stomach. As I felt my consciousness ebb, I had but one thought¡Xthat this was an ignoble end for a wizard¡¦s duel.
When I came to, Gwynaleth was kneeling next to me, breathing heavily from a sprint through the maze as she pumped healing energy from her curing wand to knit my poor sliced-open belly back together again. When the Faceless One had re-emerged into the outer sanctum as Allaxsim and Allandrin battled some straggling crow-men, she had immediately realized I must be in trouble and taken a circuitous route at top speed to avoid the enemies and come to my aid. We shortly rejoined the battle, and I can truly say that the Faceless One fought bravely with his dagger against us, darting at those of us who were lightly armored while Allaxsim hewed at him with his bastard sword, trying to sell his life dearly. When Allaxsim ran him through, he laughed weakly, saying, ¡§Fools! You have slain me, but my death only hastens the coming of the Overgod! You have awakened the Ebon Aspect!¡¨ With these words he gave up the ghost.
What we found in the Faceless One's laboratory--we battle the Ebon Aspect--escape from Dourstone Mine
18th of Wealsun (continued)--Well after the battle¡XI think Allandrin will dub it ¡§the Battle of Vecna¡¦s Sanctum¡¨ when he gets around to putting an account in verse¡Xwe pulled off the Faceless One¡¦s mask, and found underneath a bizarre face, almost devoid of features, with a flat stub of a nose and no teeth. The gods only know if he was cursed with these malformations from birth, or brought them upon himself through a magical experiment gone awry. Whatever the reason, the Faceless One was truly faceless! We found some items on his person and in his laboratory that will no doubt be useful, although we aren¡¦t sure exactly what they do yet. Most intriguing are a strange jewelled rod that the Faceless One had stuck in his belt¡XI think it somehow alters the properties of magic that the bearer casts¡Xand a steel shield whose outer surface is polished as shiny as a mirror, which has a magical rune of some sort carved on its inner side¡Xperhaps a word to activate some magical power. And of course, several books of spells, which I tucked in the magic haversack we retrieved from the Grimlocks for future study. The Faceless One¡¦s laboratory was rather bizarre¡Xa human skeleton with writhing innards startled us when we first entered the room, but proved to be nothing more than a strange display of the evil wizard¡¦s necromantic prowess. A huge black cauldron sealed with wax sat in the center of the room¡Xwe didn¡¦t dare to disturb it. While rifling through spellbooks and other arcane tomes I stumbled across a strange code book, which reminded me of the seemingly blank scroll Theldrick had left behind, and which his journal hinted was some sort of coded message. I got the idea of casting a spell to read magical writing on the scroll, and lo and behold, writing appeared upon it. Using the code book, I managed to decipher it. The scroll spoke of some of the same secrets that Grallak Kur¡¦s writing mentioned. If I have pieced it together aright, this cryptic scroll prophesies the rise of a being known as Kyuss, who is supposed to be the herald or harbinger of a being the Faceless One refers to as the Overgod. I think this crazed magician believes that the black gods Vecna, Hextor, and Erythnul will somehow merge into an even greater evil deity through his fell rituals. After reading the scroll, I reflected for a moment on the Faceless One¡¦s last words, and I wondered if the Ebon Aspect whose awakening he predicted was some manifestation of this Overgod.
Just as I was engaged in these musings, the sound of timbers being rent and splintered by a powerful blow echoed through the maze and into the Sanctum of Vecna. Something very large was battering . . . the elevator shaft, perhaps? ¡§The Ebon Aspect,¡¨ I murmured. ¡§The Faceless One¡¦s prophecy is true! It must have crawled out of the pool! It will come for us soon!¡¨
Our magical powers were nearly exhausted, and of the three curing wands we possessed, one had been drained of its power and the other two could not be far behind. I felt a rising sense of panic in the pit of my stomach, and Allandrin looked positively stunned, his jaw dropping farther with each reverberation of the creature¡¦s destructive blows. Allaxsim, though, only looked grim and steely-eyed, like a sharp sword that knows no fear in the hand of its wielder.
Gwynaleth flashed a wry grin. ¡§Tighten your belts and buckle on your shields, boys,¡¨ she said, ¡§it looks like we¡¦ll have to fight our way out with steel and no magic!¡¨
Boys? "She may have a century or more on me, but I¡¦m hardly a boy, and by Moradin¡¦s forge I¡¦ll face death like a man," I thought, and fought down my fear. I remembered I that I had one last web spell prepared, and suggested that we make good use of what few resources we had.
By this time, the echoes of splintering wood could no longer be heard, replaced by the thing¡¦s roars getting closer and closer to us as it navigated the maze. We conferred quickly and resolved to wait for it in the sanctum, then try to trap it in a magical web and escape past it to the elevator. I prayed that the creature had not completely destroyed the elevator in its mad rampage.
Before long the beast sqeezed its way through the door to the sanctum. It towered above us, a monstrous thing with gray skin and a fanged snarl on its face. It had six arms, three tipped with powerful clawed hands, and three ending in stumps. Truly it was a merger of the three evil gods, with Erythnul¡¦s fell visage, Hextor¡¦s six arms, and Vecna¡¦s missing hands. I launched my web at it, then started running for the other exit, not waiting to see if I had snared the beast. My companions were close behind me, with Allaxsim bringing up the rear. We had hardly made it into the maze when we heard the thing rip free of the web. Gwynaleth and Allandrin passed me by with their long legs and fleet feet, but Allaxsim stayed behind to protect me. We raced through the maze for the exit . . . and found our way blocked by one of the Faceless One¡¦s acolytes¡XI had forgotten the one that disappeared. Gwynaleth charged, narrowly dodging a ray of scorching fire as she ran at him. But her drawn rapier missed its mark and she had to draw back to avoid his slashing knife. The rest of us were trapped in the passageway as the Ebon Aspect turned the corner, and only Allaxsim stood between us and it.
Allaxsim turned at bay and bravely fought the beast, landing a few good sword blows but taking a beating in return. Allandrin somersaulted past the acolyte and helped Gwynaleth to dispatch him, but just as our path of escape was thus opened, a blood-red morningstar appeared shimmering behind Allandrin and felled him with a blow swung by a seemingly invisible hand. As Gwynaleth tended to him, this strange ghostly weapon began to attack me. Allaxsim fought desperately behind me, invoking the power of Hieroneous¡Xit seemed that lightning leapt from his sword to smite the demonic creature.
The spirit-morningstar beat the three of us in the rear mercilessly while Allaxsim and the Ebon Aspect traded blows, and Allaxsim was faring little better than we. Finally the spirit weapon faded, but as it did, the Aspect let loose an earth-shattering roar and seemed to swell with unholy strength, its wounds disappearing in the process. It knocked Allaxsim to the ground with a flurry of blows, and we could do nothing but take flight. As I ran into the Dark Cathedral, I pulled a bead off the necklace we had recovered from the first crow-man we slew and threw it at the beast just as it emerged through the doorway. The resulting fireball hardly fazed it at all, and it rushed toward me. Before I could escape, it knocked me to the floor with a swipe of its powerful claws, and I remember nothing more of the battle.
When I awoke, I was lying on one of the beds in the Hextorian temple, and once again Gwynaleth was leaning over me, the warm healing power of Ehlonna in the touch of her hands. Somehow, we had survived.
Over a meal made of the last of the rations we had brought with us (the provisions of the cultists, which were stored in crates and barrels bearing Balabar Smenk¡¦s coin and rooster brand, were half-spoiled), Gwynaleth related how she had lured the Ebon Aspect into the temple of Hextor. She taunted the beast into chasing her, sinking one of her cloth-yard shafts into and then fleeing. It pursued her, and she led it on a chase through the complex, loosing an arrow at it every so often. Since I had enchanted the arrows in her quiver before the battle began (my second to last prepared spell), they found their mark, and after a dozen or so arrows, the Ebon Aspect collapsed, pouring its black blood into the sands of the Battle Temple of Hextor. And so once again, Gwynaleth has saved her comrades from certain death. A brave maid, and worthy of a song¡XI hope Allandrin shall compose a fine verse or two to sing her praises.
My companions had burned the abominable Aspect¡¦s corpse while I lay unconscious, and now that I was awake, we sorted through the treasure we had earned by our victory, packing the best of it to take with us. It was rather hairy trying to get up the mine shaft with the elevator in splinters, but fortunately the Grimlocks had left us a magic rope which could slither up the elevator cable and tie itself off, allowing each of us to slowly make our way to the top in turn. We made our way to the mine entrance and saw that it was early evening¡Xthe sun¡¦s rays were slanting from the west across the mine yard. We decided not to wait for dark, but to make a dash for the pallisade and flee directly. We were spotted as we ran across the yard, but managed to climb up to the parapet and jump over before the guards caught up with us. Gwynaleth covered our flight by summoning a mist, and the guards¡¦ quarrels missed us as we sprinted across the hillside and out of sight. We made it safely back to the old mine office by the Whispering Cairn as the sun set.
Episode Five, in which the Company of Light enjoys an interlude in Diamond Lake
(Note appended to entry of 18th Wealsun)--The baby owlbear we¡¦ve been raising has killed all but two of the chickens in our absence¡Xpoor little blighter must¡¦ve gotten hungry while we were away for so long. We sacrificed the rest of the flock this evening¡Xone to feed ourselves and one to feed the owlbear. As I write this entry by candlelight, Allaxsim has walked back to the Diamond Lake garrison to report our doings to Valkus Dunn.
Waterday, 19th of Wealsun¡XThis morning, we counted up our treasure, and walked into town, selling some so that I could buy supplies for my magical projects and stashing the remainder at Allustan¡¦s for safekeeping. I plan to undertake two important endeavors, surveying the spellbooks I had hauled out of Dourstone Mine for useful magic, and crafting a proper wizard¡¦s staff. We shall dine with Allustan this afternoon, and I shall be starting work on these projects immediately. Allaxsim and Gwynaleth will take advantage of the long summer afternoon and evening to work on cleaning up the old mine office¡Xperhaps we can make some progress on fixing it up so that it is a home and not a campsite! Allandrin is going to spend the evening inquiring about where we might procure another wound-healing wand¡Xsince there are no more to be had at the Hieronean Chapel.
Earthday, 20th of Wealsun¡XAllaxsim and Gwynaleth were already at Allustan¡¦s when I came up from my all-night labors in the laboratory for breakfast this morning, and began my day with a bit of startling news. It seems that Allandrin is in jail. About dusk yesterday, a carriage with an armed escort arrived at the foot of the hill on which the old mine office sits. Allaxsim and Gwynaleth heard them, and thinking it might mean trouble, they hid in the Whispering Cairn. They waited for about an hour, then came back out, and discovered that they had been visited by none other than Balabar Smenk. Smenk left them a note threatening to kill us if we divulge what we saw in Dourstone¡¦s mine. (A bit late at this point, of course, since Valkus Dunn and Allustan are already in the know). The baby owlbear was gone¡XI suppose Smenk¡¦s goons took the only thing they could find that was valuable. Hope they lost a couple of fingers for their trouble. By midnight, Allandrin still hadn¡¦t returned, so they walked into town to see what had happened to him. They inquired at the Feral Dog, where they encountered an off-duty constable who told them Allandrin had been arrested on the charge of murdering Firgi, the Dourstone Mine guard. The constable told them that they couldn¡¦t visit, but not to worry, he wouldn¡¦t be strung up until he¡¦d had a proper trial. Allustan reassured us that with the amount of treasure we¡¦d hauled out of the mine, we should have no trouble getting Allandrin off the hook in this fine pit of corruption known as Diamond Lake¡Xbut I¡¦m as worried about what Smenk will do to us as I am about what the law will do to Allandrin. Anyhow, Gwynaleth and Allaxsim will see what can be done for our comrade¡XI must continue my labors.
Smenk blows smoke--Allandrin out on bail--Gwynaleth looks for a healing wand--discussions about worms and lizardfolk
Afternoon entry, 20th Wealsun¡XAllaxsim returned to Allustan's this afternoon with Allandrin in tow. It seems our minstrel was released on bail first thing this morning¡Xthe constable wouldn¡¦t tell him who fronted the bail money. But strangely, Smenk visited him in his cell in the middle of the night, blowing cigar smoke in his face and making a point to tell him, ¡§You better not tell anyone what you saw in Dourstone Mine, ¡¥less you wanna go for a midnight swim in the lake with a millstone for a necklace.¡¨ Hard to say who would bail him out, but I wouldn¡¦t put it past Smenk to do it just to get him out of the clutches of the law until he can find a way to silence all of us permanently. I suggested we'd better be careful from now on, and that maybe sleeping at Allustan's is a better idea than sleeping in the abandoned mine office.
Anyhow, when Gwynaleth and Allaxsim found out Allandrin was no longer in prison, they went back to the mine office, and Allandrin was waiting for them there. The three decided to proceed with some tasks that need to be done before we embark on the next phase of our adventure, whatever that meay be. Allandrin¡¦s inquiry about a curing wand revealed that the best place might be the Bronzewood Lodge¡Xthere's a wizened old priest of Obad-Hai out there named Nogwier who might keep such an item around. So Gwynaleth is on her way there this afternoon. Allaxsim is going to donate a suit of mail we captured in the mine to the Church of Hieroneous as his tithe¡Xwe all agreed that this would be a good use of treasure that's hard to carry and hard to sell in Diamond Lake¡Xsurely Valkus Dunn or one of the other Hieroneans can use it. Then the two brothers are going out for an evening on the town to see if they can pick up any leads¡Xthe Faceless One.
In our mealtime meetings with Allustan, we have been hashing over the documents we recovered from the Ebon Triad, and trying to piece together what we can. It's a bit of a jumble, all this stuff about the Overgod and his herald Kyuss, but it appears that they were looking for undead creatures bearing worms¡Xperhaps green worms like the preserved one Smenk swiped from their laboratory, the one now in our possession? They also seem to have been interested in the Mistmarsh and its lizardfolk denizens for some reason. So the brothers will be alert for rumors concerning these things, and also, perhaps, might uncover some information about Smenk that might prove useful in our dealings with him.
Well, its back to work¡XI'm almost done with my new wizard's staff!
My new staff--the brothers take a night on the town--fortunes and rumors
Freeday, 21st of Wealsun—I finished my staff late last night! She's a thing of beauty! A stout stave of peachwood, four and a half feet long, sanded smooth and nicely oiled. I had Jem the cabinetmaker turn it on his lathe and cut six grooves down her length—so she looks like she's made of seven segments. (I thought the strange staff carried by that statue in the Whispering Cairn looked powerful and magical—I think it's a representation of the Rod of Seven Parts that the Chronicle of Chan talks about, the great weapon that killed Mishka the Wolf-Spider. May the gods who wrought that fabled weapon look upon my imitation as sincere flattery, and not as blasphemy!) I used the arts of my people to add symbols of power to the uppermost segment, inlaying that part with runes shaped from gold wire, one rune for the power to smite my enemies, one rune to bring light to the darkness, and one rune to feel the power of magic. The finial is gold, beaten into the shape of a toad's head, with a shimmering opal held in its mouth. The opal and the toad figure will make transmutation spells, in which I specialize, especially strong. I spent much of the night saying incantations over her beautiful form, and now I can feel the magic in her.
Allaxsim and Allandrin came down to breakfast at midmorning, a bit bleary-eyed from their night of buying drinks for everyone imaginable at every establishment in Diamond Lake, ‘til well past midnight. I'm sure their evening was much more enjoyable than it sounds this morning—even Allandrin can't muster much flair in telling it—so I'll report it briefly here, and only record the rumors that seem as though they may be significant.
The brothers started their evening in the Spinning Giant, chatting with Trovost Skunt and Mélinde, who just returned from a patrol near the Mistmarsh. There was almost no evidence of lizardfolk activity—Trovost thinks it's the calm before the storm, that they are somehow gathering their forces for something big, but Captain Trask won’t reinforce Blackwall Keep, down by the Marsh because he wants to keep his forces together to respond when the lizardfolk strike. Mélinde also mentioned that several soldiers reported seeing a beast with a long tail flying around high up in the sky. Hard to tell for sure, but to the soldiers it looked like a dragon. Of course soldiers’ fears sometimes cause them to imagine things and spread rumors.
The brothers’ next stop was that notorious house of sin and curiosities known as the Emporium. I’m sure Allaxsim was sheepish about even being seen entering such a place—he went to see the curiosities downstairs for a few coppers, rubbing shoulders with a few miners who are new to town and haven’t yet gotten bored with seeing Tom Shingle tying himself in knots or Esmeralda the two-headed calf. He did manage to hear a juicy tidbit of local gossip from Bogodor the Beastmaster, who oversees this floor of the Emporium. Apparently the mine manager Luzane Parrin is having a romance with Chaum Gansworth, as they were seen in here two nights ago, arm in arm, gawking at the oddities. (Not sure whether this is significant or not, except that it appears we have gotten mixed up in the mine managers’ politics with our raid on Dourstone Mine, and it would do well for us to make note of their alliances and feuds. Luzane is a known enemy of Smenk’s, having publicly rebuffed his advances on several occasions, and Smenk has been trying to drive her out of business and acquire her property for some time, perhaps to force her into marrying him or becoming his paramour. Does this mean pitiful Luzane has brought Chaum Gansworth into an alliance against Smenk?)
Upstairs, Allandrin had a considerably more interesting time. It seems that the fortune-teller Chezabet conned him into letting her read the cards for him. She first drew the Throne from her “deck of many things,” and predicted, “You will soon find yourself close to royalty.” Next, she drew the card known as Euryale, and told him, “You will anger powerful beings, which will demand vengeance!” After this, Allandrin did not want to hear any more. (Ordinarily, I don’t pay attention to the false divinations of card-reading fortune tellers, and these predictions sound quite preposterous to my ears, but I feel in my bones that the weavings of fate are twisting the course of our lives in strange directions now, and so it seems foolish to completely discount any prediction about us.) After having his fortune read, Allandrin talked to one of the “exotic dancers” from the Emporium’s “dance club,” a woman named Saffron, while she was taking a break from titillating the wealthy patrons of the Veiled Corridor, watching the Rat Game. She told Allandrin a few useful tidbits about Balabar Smenk and his struggle with the other managers to gain a monopoly over the mines. Two things I thought worthy of remark. First, Smenk’s right hand man, an insufferable goon named Trawn Blakefist who lords it over just about everyone in town except his own boss and the Big Four (Mayor Neff, his brother Allustan, Sherriff Cubbin, and Capt. Trask), has not been seen for almost three weeks. Odd, because he regularly drinks (for free) at both the Feral Dog and the Emporium. Second, it appears that Smenk regularly sends Kullen and his gang out to dispose of his enemies discreetly. I suppose that’s what he meant when he told Allandrin he’d send him for a “swim in Diamond Lake with a millstone around his neck.” So, we must be extra careful of them, especially when no one is around.
After the Emporium, the brothers visited Lazare’s. It was rather quiet, and Allandrin played dragonchess with Lazare’s daughter Dannath for a while. Their conversation was mostly of the Twighlight Monastery outside of town atop the hill known as the Griffon’s Roost—Brother Golgan Hant from there is a regular visitor and had been at Lazare’s that afternoon. According to Dannath, Brother Golgan uses Lazare’s as a meeting place to sell kalamanthis—a plant that some people chew to send their minds wandering in strange dreams—to customers from the Free City. The monks gather kalamanthis from their hilltop sanctuary and use the proceeds to fund their needs. The monastery famously houses a huge magical censer that somehow aids its mistress, Izenfen the Occluded, in predicting the future. Anyhow, Dannath also repeated a rumor that Mayor Neff has it in for the monastery, and is hiring a gang of mercenaries from the Free City to plunder the place and drive off the monks.
The last stop on the brothers’ nighttime itinerary was the Feral Dog. They walked in the doors after midnight, and were apprehensive that they might run into Kullen and his gang, but they weren’t at their usual table. Out doing Smenk’s dirty work for him, perhaps? The brothers chatted with Gorvic, the Dog’s roguish-looking half-elf barkeep for a while, once the last of the night’s dogfights was done and things quieted down a bit. They heard two interesting rumors. A horse in Gelch Tilgast’s stable had its throat cut from ear to ear, according to one rumor—I’m not sure what to make of it, but I suppose it must be connected to mine manager rivalries, and sounds like the sort of thing Balabar Smenk might have his goons do, just for spite, since old Tilgast is perhaps his staunchest rival. The second rumor was most interesting indeed—when conversation turned to Dourstone, Gorvic said he had heard rumors that Ragnolin Dourstone had left Greysmere after a scandal—he was accused of collapsing his own mine, trapping many of his workers who were agitating for better pay, and killing some of them. I guess no one ever proved it wasn’t an accident, but no one back home in Greysmere would work for him after that, and he had to find a new place to set up shop, one where his reputation wouldn’t hurt him. From what I know of the old skinflint, I can believe he’d try just about anything to keep his workers’ wages low, but if this story is true, it makes sense that he would let evil cultists set up shop in his basement. The question is whether he is one of them, or was just blackmailed by them. Anyhow, at this point, with Allandrin still facing murder charges, it doesn’t seem that it will be easy to move against him.
DM Note: Barbazad has made an imbued staff, per the article in Dragon 338
An argument about means and ends--a sacrifice for the gods of injustice--Gwynaleth returns--Father Dunn's counsel--in Diamond Lake, bribery works!
Entry of 21st Wealsun, continued--After hearing the night¡¦s events, conversation turned to the charges against Allandrin. Allustan¡¦s face screwed up into a most distasteful expression when Allandrin suggested that a few choice ¡§gifts¡¨ from our captured treasure might change the authorities¡¦ minds about his guilt in the affair. Allaxsim blanched at this ethically questionable solution proposed by his brother¡X¡§It is better to demonstrate one¡¦s innocence of the charges in the court of law, than to gain a false freedom by bribery,¡¨ he said.
I pointed out that while Allandrin would no doubt be acquitted of Firgi¡¦s murder when all of the facts in the case were made known, Gwynaleth might be hung in his place, and the rest of us might be charged as her accomplices and sold into servitude as punishment. And given Smenk¡¦s threats, we might not live long enough to labor in the mines, if we told the whole story publicly. I also emphasized that if we surrendered to the authorities in this way, the troubling clues that we had uncovered of some greater evil lurking behind the cultists in Dourstone¡¦s mine would likely go uninvestigated, and who knows what evil might come of it. ¡§Certainly we cannot trust Sherriff Cubbin to investigate, nor even Mayor Neff,¡¨ I said. ¡§So it¡¦s best to take advantage of the corruption in the local justice system rather than let ourselves fall victim to it. Allaxsim, if you wish to suffer seven years of slavery for the unfortunate death of one man who inadvertently stood in the path of justice, be my guest, but I wish to stay free and see what is to be done about this ¡¥Age of Worms¡¦ prophesied by the Triad¡¦s evil priests. So if you want to turn yourself in, do us a favor and say you did it all yourself, so the rest of us can right whatever festering evil is behind these ill rumors.¡¨
¡§Very well,¡¨ Allaxsim said, ¡§I am going off to ask Father Dunn¡¦s opinion,¡¨ and he left us directly to do so.
Allustan, despite his distaste for the whole situation, agreed that we did not deserve death or slavery for our attempts to uncover a great evil brewing beneath this corrupt town. And he admitted that his brother, Mayor Neff, is unfortunately quite susceptible to bribery. In the end, he agreed to approach Mayor Neff and Sherriff Cubbin about having the charges against Allandrin dropped, so we picked out the finest piece of our plunder, a golden bust of a king of the Dwur-folk capped with a jewelled crown, which I guess to be somewhat over two thousand gold orbs in value, to appeal to the Mayor¡¦s greed. For Cubbin, we threw in a set of strange ivory dice, with odd symbols carved in each face in place of the pips.
I slept most of the afternoon, after my night¡¦s labors, and when I woke up and came to dinner, Gwynaleth was back from Bronzewood Lodge. She had purchased from Nogwier a wand with greater healing power in each charge than the old wands we used up in the Ebon Triad¡¦s lair, but the better part of its power has been expended already. Apparently Nogwier bargained rather hard with her, but at least he was willing to sell, and not to make too much of a priestess of a rival deity asking his aid in this matter. Meanwhile, Allustan was dining with his brother.
After dinner, Allaxsim returned from the Garrison. His face was set and impassive, and he reported that he was now on furlough from the militia for a week or so. He said that Valkus Dunn reminded him of Hieroneous¡¦ saying, ¡§the greater justice lies in the destruction of evil.¡¨ Father Dunn interprets that to mean that if the local authorities manipulate the law of the land to shield wrongdoers and obstruct justice, then it is the duty of a follower of Hieroneous to work around and outside that so-called ¡§law of the land¡¨ for righteous ends. ¡§Bribery is never good, but it¡¦s a fact of life in Diamond Lake,¡¨ Dunn said, ¡§and in this case there is little choice but to give up your quest to investigate the Ebon Triad and their worms, or to surrender yourself and your comrades to Diamond Lake¡¦s unjust justice. A Sacred Warrior of Hieroneous must be, above all, practical in his quest for justice. Not all wrongs can be righted, and so it lies to us to decide which wrongs are most in need of righting. The petty corruption of Diamond Lake is a wrong that keeps this town mired in misery. Yet it seems to me from what you turned up below Dourstone Mine that a much greater evil is brewing, one that threatens misery and death to many towns, perhaps all of the Flanaess. I urge you to risk your life in the quest to stop this greater evil, and not to sacrifice it pointlessly for a matter of petty principle.¡¨
Not long after Allaxsim¡¦s return, Allustan came home as well. He gave us a wry smile, and a wink, and said that our ¡§sacrifices¡¨ had sated the greed of the local gods of justice, and that no further inquiries would be made into Firgi¡¦s death.
Feeling relieved of at least a few worries, I turn now to my nightly studies. Freeday or no, there is much to be done to prepare myself for the trials I know will soon be at hand, and the more spells I know, the better I¡¦ll be able to face them.
Flirtation and rumormongering at the Feral Dog--mastering new spells--a communication from Bishop Demien--interesting news from Mallow Gulch
Starday, 22nd of Wealsun¡XAllaxsim and Allandrin made another trip to the Feral Dog last night, while I was working on my spellbook. Allandrin bragged of his exploits in the game of dagger-toss¡Xhe claimed to have beaten Tirra, that roguish elf-woman with the adventuring party from the Free City. He claims that she is quite taken with him, but she is, by all reports, a wily city girl, and no doubt has other than amorous reasons for her flirtations. You¡¦d think a well-traveled young man like Allandrin would know better than to fall for such a city tramp! Gwynaleth didn¡¦t say anything at breakfast, but she scowled at her porridge the whole time. I don¡¦t know whether it was in disapproval or jealousy. Anyhow, while Allandrin was flirting, Allaxsim found out a really useful bit of rumor from some of the Dourstone miners enjoying their Freeday night¡Xthere was a cave-in at Dourstone Mine the day before yesterday. It was in a section of the mine that was boarded up and labeled as unsafe, so no one was hurt, but it shook up the miners pretty bad and disrupted work for most of the afternoon. I¡¦d bet a hundred orbs that old Ragnolin¡¦s found out his cultist friends are all dead, and collapsed the drift leading to the elevator to keep the authorities from investigating further. The plot thickens.
Waterday, 26th of Wealsun¡XThe past few days have been filled with mundane labor, and I haven¡¦t made any entries in my journal because I¡¦ve been hiding in the alchemy lab in Allustan¡¦s basement, poring over the spellbooks I captured and experimenting with what I¡¦ve learned so that I can record the new spells in my own. I¡¦ve learned a little of the summoner¡¦s art¡Xit took me some time to figure out how to summon divine beings from the celestial planes instead of the fiendish and dangerous beasts that the Faceless One called from the depths of the Abyss to fight us. I¡¦ve also learned spells for blasting my enemies with a scorching ray of fire, for preventing passage through a door, and for changing my appearance to look like someone else. (Allustan was really surprised when I showed up for lunch looking just like him!) There are a number of other spells I have not had time to fully decipher yet, but they¡¦ll have to wait, for we¡¦ll be taking a short trip out of town tomorrow.
While I¡¦ve been working on my magic, the others have gotten the abandoned mine office mostly cleaned up¡Xthe rubble is cleared out and the weeds have been cut down, at least¡Xso we¡¦ll be able to hire some masons and carpenters to fix the place up properly after Richfest. My companions have also been keeping their ears open for new rumors, but have heard nothing. But tonight, some news arrived from Blackwall Keep that has stirred us into action.
This evening, Allaxsim received a summons from Valkus Dunn. When he returned from his interview with the chaplain, he reported that he has been released from service in the Greyhawk Militia, and has been given a special commission by Jaikor Demien, Father Dunn¡¦s superior, High Priest of the Sanctum of Hieroneous in the Free City and Bishop Primate of the Church of Hieroneous in the Domain of Greyhawk. Bishop Demien, it seems, was informed of our investigations by Father Dunn, and has taken a serious interest in them. Allaxsim has been given a special, secret commission letter, written by the bishop¡¦s own hand, to pursue the source of the green worms and the cult of the Ebon Triad, which the bishop feels is an evil that must be uprooted from the Free City¡¦s domain. He is to tell no one except his companions of his mission, except if he is in dire need of aid, in which case he may use his letter from the bishop to gain help from the Church. So it seems our self-appointed quest has a powerful backer now. Bishop Demien sent a curing wand and a scroll carrying a spell for breaking magical curses to aid Allaxsim on his quest.
While Allaxsim was at the Garrison, a messenger arrived from Blackwall Keep, reporting that the lizardfolk had launched a raid on a village near that fort called Mallow Gulch. The captain at Blackwall wanted to alert the Garrison here and to request reinforcements be sent from Greyhawk, for he fears the lizardfolk are on the warpath. They carried off a number of villagers, and the captain feels a retributive strike is necessary to teach the scaly creatures a lesson.
Allaxsim brought back with him a sealed letter for Allustan from Marzena, an old acquaintance of his who is the battle mage at Blackwall Keep. When Allustan broke open the seal, and read the letter, his face took on a serious look, and he immediately handed the letter to us to read. It seems that one of the lizardfolk killed by the soldiers from Blackwall at Mallow Gulch was infested with strange green worms, which crawled out of its body after it died. Marzena managed to save a sample, but didn¡¦t send it because she didn¡¦t want to entrust something so strange and seemingly important to an ordinary messenger, and she can¡¦t come herself right now because she is needed at the Keep to battle the raiders. So, it looks like we¡¦ve got another lead¡Xand it¡¦s one that tallies with the Faceless One¡¦s interest in the lizardfolk and the Mistmarsh. We¡¦re off to Blackwall Keep on the morrow!
Episode Five, In Which the Company of Light Makes a Journey to Blackwall Keep
We depart for Blackwall Keep--Murder at Shank's Rest
Earthday, 27th of Wealsun¡XWell, it looks as though we¡¦ll be missing most of Richfest, but the duty of our quest beckons us. We purchased a pair of sturdy horses¡Xone for me to ride and one for our supplies and Allaxsim¡¦s heavy black armor, which is not good to walk in, especially in the hot sunny midsummer weather we¡¦re having. My long-legged companions are walking, but I¡¦m on horseback to keep from slowing the party down. We set off at midmorning today, and travelled up the Urnst Trail with little incident, arriving at a place known as Shank¡¦s Rest, an empty farmhouse that many travelers use for shelter near the fork in the trail that leads south to Blackwall Keep. We are keeping a close watch tonight, what with the lizardfolk on the warpath, but we¡¦re far enough from the Marsh that we should be safe from harm.
Freeday, 28th of Wealsun (early morning entry)¡XThe night was not as safe as I had deemed it. Allaxsim took the first watch and the rest of us went to bed. I had not been asleep long when the crash of breaking glass woke me. As I rolled to my feet and opened my eyes the first thing I saw was that there was a fire in the middle of the floor and the back door was swinging open. Before I could react further, an armored man kicked open the front door and shouted in a voice I half recognized, ¡§Dibs on the elf wench!¡¨
Allaxsim attacked the armored man furiously and shouted imprecations at him. ¡§Perfidious devil! Feel the bolt of Hieroneous¡¦ wrath!¡¨
Meanwhile, Allandrin was trying to smother the flames with his blanket. I edged by the flames and opened the door to the other room, shouting to make sure Gwynaleth was awake. Then I cast a ¡§mage armor¡¨ spell to protect myself from stray sword cuts¡Xthis looked to be a vicious battle at tight quarters. Amid the clashing noises of the battle at the front door, I heard Allaxsim cry out, ¡§watch the back door!¡¨
Gwynaleth must have been awake already, for she burst from the room, bow and several arrows in hand, and rushed to the back door. As she poked her head out to look, something hit her and burst in an explosion of gluey fibers, pinning her to the doorway. By this time the flames were out, and Allandrin drew his sword and advanced out on to the porch. Taking care not to get enmeshed in the fibers, I peeked out as well. Beyond Allandrin, I saw an ugly white face with a branded forehead. ¡§It¡¦s Kullen¡¦s gang!¡¨ I shouted.
¡§I¡¦ll teach you to make a fool of me!¡¨ Kullen roared wildly, then charged, and Allandrin barely managed to avoid having his skull split by Kullen¡¦s axe, taking an ugly wound on his left shoulder instead. At the same time a weasel scrabbled across the porch and bit Allandrin on the ankle, and a sickly yellow light momentarily enveloped both Allandrin and the weasel. A wizard¡¦s familiar, I realized, but I couldn¡¦t see the wizard. Before I could act further, another tanglefoot bag flew through the air, lobbed by Kullen¡¦s taciturn companion Rastophan¡Xit harmlessly hit the side of the house. I shot a magic missile at Kullen, but it hardly seemed to touch him in his state of frenzied bloodlust. At that moment Allandrin slipped and fell on his backside, and I could do nothing but shout for Allaxsim¡¦s aid and step back from the door to give myself casting room. Gwynaleth struggled frantically to free herself from the goo, but she was well and truly pinned to the door.
Before I had even finished shouting Allaxsim charged quickly past me¡Xhe was wearing only his chain shirt when the assault started, and I saw he was bleeding already from several wounds. As he stepped onto the porch and thrust at Kullen with his sword, his front foot slipped as though he had stepped on ice. He lost his balance and landed in a heap atop his brother, taking a blow from Kullen¡¦s axe which fortunately did not land squarely because he had had to change the direction of his cut in mid-swing. Fortunately, I had begun to call a servant from the Celestial Realm of the Beastlands, and it chose that moment to appear behind Kullen. I ordered the creature, a man-sized badger, to attack him, and Kullen was forced to turn at bay, as the beast matched its own savage fury with his.
The rest of the battle was a blur, as the brothers and the badger meleed with Kullen and Rastophan, while I tried to disrupt the spells of the wizard, who was taking cover behind the well-house and trying to ensorcel my companions. Then Todrik¡Xthe armored man¡Xre-emerged on the battlefield. He had apparently retreated when Allaxsim came to our aid, and downed a potion to enlarge himself. At least that was the only explanation I could think of for him being twice as tall as usual. By this time the badger had rent Kullen into a bloody pulp, but Todrik¡¦s appearance caught Allaxsim off guard and his guisarme pierced our brave companion¡¦s side. He fell to the ground, bleeding profusely. Allandrin, who had a cure wand in one hand and his rapier in the other, managed to revive him at the cost of a nastly slash on his arm. But then Allaxsim moved to muster his own healing powers, and Todrik saw him move and stabbed him again with his guisarme, this time piercing his chest.
By this time Gwynaleth had freed herself, and we managed to finish off our enemies with a combination of badger rage, missile fire, and spells. But Allaxsim is dead, and their is no joy in such a victory. Vengeance is not consolation. Allandrin is stricken with grief, and I doubt that we will be able to continue our quest.
Why did Kullen and his gang try to murder us? I can only guess that they are acting on Balabar Smenk's orders, although I'm sure Kullen was glad enough to carry them out after being humiliated by Allandrin at the Feral Dog. And from Todrik¡¦s words at the opening of the battle, I believe that they¡¦d have amused themselves by treating us cruelly before putting us to death, if they managed to capture any of us alive. I shudder to think what they might have done to Gwynaleth. It seems we should have guessed that Smenk would want to still our tongues permanently, that he would not trust to promises or intimidation to keep his involvement with the Ebon Triad secret. Well, vengeance may not be consolation, but I vow that I will make Smenk pay for Allaxsim's death. I may not be a stout warrior, but it is the way of us Dwur-folk to avenge those dear to us.
We receive unexpected aid
Freeday, 28th of Wealsun (Evening entry)¡XThis morning, Allaxsim¡¦s god sent us timely aid in our hour of need. As Allandrin, Gwynaleth, and I were sharing a late and cheerless breakfast of waybread, dried fruit, and cheese, we heard the braying of trumpets off in the distance. A second and third fanfare followed at short intervals, sounding clearly from the north, where the Urnst Trail runs but a mile north of Shank¡¦s Rest.
¡§What important personage could be passing this way?¡¨ Allandrin wondered aloud. ¡§Perhaps he can aid us somehow, or at least take word of our plight to Allustan.¡¨ He took off running up a hill that stands just north of the abandoned farm, and Gwynaleth and I followed as quickly as we could. From the hilltop we could see a large party riding towards us from the east with great pageantry and colorful display. A retinue of thirty knights and several score clerks, pages, and orderlies accompanied the principal personage of this procession, along with a cavalcade of pack animals, servants, and drovers trailing behind. The principal personage was obscured from our position, shaded by a broad golden canopy held aloft on poles by four riders in his immediate entourage. Gwynaleth strained her eyes to make out the banners held aloft by two knights at the front of the procession.
¡§The royal banner of Nyrond, and the other flag displays the grasped lightning of Hieroneous quartered with family arms I don¡¦t recognize,¡¨ she relayed. ¡§A running stag on a field of gold barred with blue.¡¨
¡§House Huldane,¡¨ Allandrin responded quickly. ¡§I¡¦m guessing a kinsman of the Count of Mowbrenn who serves in the Hieronean clergy.¡¨ As if to confirm Allandrin, the personage¡¦s heralds, who were now near the base of the hill, sounded their trumpets again, and this time we could hear the lead herald¡¦s words carry up to us.
¡§Make way for His Holiness Turpin Huldane, Archbishop of the Church of the Just and August Lord Hieroneous in the City of Rel Mord, and Hieronean Primate of All Nyrond as he travels to the Council of Hieronean Primates in the Free City of Greyhawk! Make way and yield the passage of this highway, unless ye be of yet higher rank than Monseignieur!¡¨
¡§Gwynaleth, run swift as a hunted deer!¡¨ Allandrin exclaimed. ¡§Get Allandrin¡¦s commission from Bishop Demien¡Xit was in his saddlebag. Bring it and meet me at the crossroads!¡¨ With that, he took off running down the grassy slope, aiming for the spot where the Blackwall Keep road tees into the Urnst trail, perhaps a quarter mile from us. I followed him as fast as I could, and pulled up huffing and puffing just in time to see him kneel at the crossroads to address the passing cleric. I mimicked his gesture, knowing less than I should of the courtly manners needed for such a situation.
¡§Your Holiness, I beseech your aid! My brother, a warrior in the service of Hieroneous, has been murdered by ruffians! I beg you to help us, for we were aiding him in a very important quest at the orders of His Excellency the Bishop Jaikor Demien in Greyhawk!¡¨
A knight in the livery of the Hieronean church broke away from the body of horsemen and rode toward Allandrin, drawing his sword and twisting it in his grip as though he meant to strike him with the flat of the blade. As he did so, he barked, ¡§Sirrah, how dare you interrupt Monseigneur¡¦s passage!¡¨
Archbishop Turpin raised his hand to signal a halt, then spoke to the knight. ¡§Thank you, Carolus, but there is no need. I shall hear more of this young fellow¡¦s suit from the saddle and judge for myself whether it is worthy of my time.¡¨ The cleric, a middle aged man outfitted in a brightly polished suit of full plate armor, wearing an elaborate miter in place of a helm, turned a gaze that was haughty and imposing, but not entirely bereft of mercy, upon my minstrel friend.
I could see Allandrin swallow and try to gather himself as he addressed the archbishop from his knees, relating in the most polite and courtly tones the circumstances of his request, choosing his words carefully to convey the gravity and importance of our quest without publicly revealing particulars that were best kept confidential. I was amazed at the lad¡¦s ability to speak and his familiarity with the elaborate courtesies of the high born. I suppose being a baron¡¦s son gives one advantages in this regard. As he finished his explanation, Gwynaleth sprinted up, sweat streaming down her brow, letters in hand. Seeing her arrive, Allandrin could conclude his speech and offer to let His Holiness peruse Allaxsim¡¦s letter of commission from Demien if he desired further proof. It was perfect timing.
The archbishop kept a stern and almost disapproving look on his face as Allandrin spoke, and Gwynaleth¡¦s arrival brought a brief expression of distaste across his features, as though he harbored a low opinion of the morals of elves. Perhaps the expression was a particular reaction to a female elf traveling alone with male companions and dressed in huntsman¡¦s leathers, or perhaps the silver unicorn symbol that dangled on her breast, which she had not bothered to conceal before her appearance, had alerted him to her devotion to a rival deity. Nonetheless, when Allandrin concluded his speech, he ordered his party to halt and his secretary to have his pavilion erected so that he could confer with the suitors in private. Allandrin¡¦s silver tongue had half convinced him already, although I had no idea what aid the archbishop could render at this point.
The conference in the archbishop¡¦s spacious tent netted us a second, better breakfast of cold capon and claret which he most graciously provided for our refreshment. He carefully perused of Allaxsim¡¦s credentials and a we gave him a more thorough brief on the secret parts of our quest. Then Allandrin knelt and besought His Holiness if it were in his power to restore his brother to life by the miraculous power of Hieroneous¡Xit was I suppose good theater, but I¡¦m sure the tears streaming down his face were not forced. At this, the cleric asked us to withdraw and allow him to consult with his secretary, Monsignor Serendos. When His Holiness recalled us, he announced that he judged our quest to merit the expenditure of considerable resources to see through, and in order to prevent considerable delay on our part, he would grant us the miracle we had asked for. In return, we were to reimburse the Archbishop¡¦s treasury for the quite expensive costs of performing such a miracle, as soon as we were able. He also vowed to lodge a complaint with the authorities of the Free City of Greyhawk for allowing such egregious brigandage to take place along its public highways, and for letting a foul villain like Smenk conspire so obviously in such deeds (for we had told him our suspicions about the motives for Kullen¡¦s assault).
So, we fetched Allaxsim¡¦s corpse back from the farmhouse, and Archbishop Turpin performed the elaborate rites by which the Hieronean priests call the spirits of the worthy slain back to their bodies and raise them from the dead. It is the first time I have participated in such a rite, and I must say that it is difficult to describe the feeling of the holy power that washed through the archbishop¡¦s chapel pavilion and swept Allaxsim¡¦s soul back into his body. I was truly awed by it, and though I have never been a very religious man, I can see now the value of piety. The raising did not cure all of Allaxsim¡¦s grievous wounds, but Allandrin and Gwynaleth were later able to use their powers to restore him to full strength.
When we walked out of the tent into the bright summer sun, we saw that while the Archbishop had been ministering to Allaxsim, his servants had been ministering to the corpses of our assailants, hastily erecting a frame by the crossroads to display their severed heads as a warning to passers-by, with a legend scrawled on a salvaged board with chalk proclaiming that ¡§this is the fate that awaits those who assail the servants of Hieroneous, by order of His Holiness the Archbishop of Rel Mord &c.¡¨ Their bodies were tied to nearby trees for the carrion birds to feast on. Hieronean justice is harsh, it seems, though I can¡¦t say I disapprove in this case.
It was already early afternoon when we took our leave of Archbishop Turpin, hastily packed our gear and a few useful items captured from our assailants, and headed for Blackwall Keep, which we hoped to reach before sundown.
DM's note--OK, call it deus ex machina, but I didn't want to derail the adventure just as it was getting underway by killing off the party tank, merely on account of tactical errors by the player and lucky dice by myself. I leveled up Kullen and his cronies to make them a suitable challenge for the PCs at 5th level, and I'm afraid I made the challenge just a touch too tough for what was supposed to be a flavor encounter to make it clear to the PCs that Smenk is a no-good, rotten bastard. I guess things will be OK if we manage to avoid having a PC death every other adventure.
Battle at Blackwall Keep--an Interrogation--We Resolve to Enter the Mistmarsh
Wealsun 28th, evening entry, continued--The sun was low in the western sky as we neared Blackwall Keep, and a pillar of smoke off to the east alerted us that something was wrong. We used the cover of a nearby wood to approach the keep quietly, leaving our horses behind. When we peeked out from the eaves of the wood, we saw the keep. Its garrison had prepared against an attack by driving wooden stakes into the slope of the hill on which the tower is built, to slow a charging enemy and give more time to rain crossbow quarrels upon him. But preparations or no, the garrison was under siege. Spread in several groups in a wide perimeter around the tower, just out of range of bowshot, were the besiegers¡Xa company of lizardfolk. Several of those in the nearest group were bloody-faced, feeding on the raw carcass of a horse like a pack of wolves. We withdrew a little way into the wood to confer in whispers about what to do. As we talked, we heard the beat of a large drum, summoning the lizardfolk to battle. Looking out at them again, we saw that they were attacking with the dusk, with a score or more of them advancing on the keep carrying barriers of wet, matted swamp grass to shield them from arrow fire, as well as a makeshift battering ram fashioned from a log, and a gerry-built ladder for scaling the wall. Another dozen or so held back out of arrowshot, apparently being held in reserve by their chieftain for a decisive attack. The first crack of the tree-trunk against the gate rendered a splintering sound.
¡§The gate will burst asunder soon,¡¨ Allaxsim said in a harsh sotto voce. ¡§The honor of Hieroneous demands I aid them.¡¨ I knew I couldn¡¦t stop him, so I bade him wait for a moment while I cast a spell to enlarge him to the size of a giant. Once I had done this, he let loose a battle cry, lowered his visor, and charged forward across the open field toward the gate. The rest of us hesitated for a moment, then jogged after him, hoping his metal carapace would stop the blows of the reptilian creatures¡¦ clubs, and hoping we could render aid with arrows and spells from a distance. By the time Allaxsim was halfway across the cleared field between the keep and the wood, the lizardfolk captain had assessed the threat, and with a blood-curdling cry he led his reserve into battle, charging to cut Allaxsim off before he reached the gate. We redoubled our efforts to catch up to Allaxsim, Gwynaleth pausing to loose several arrows at the mass of lizardfolk before moving closer. The chieftain and his companions swarmed forward, tossing javelins that bounced harmlessly off Allaxsim¡¦s armor and shield. Allaxsim slew two of them before they managed to penetrate his guard, and in the ensuing melee he smote several more with his sword and managed to knock the brave but foolhardy chief prone. A strange lizardfolk with a snake wrapped around its arm moved forward to minister to the chieftain, and as he got back to his feet he cried out, ¡§To me, men of the Twisted Branch, rally to me.¡¨ As I am fluent in the tongue of dragons, which these things speak, I was able to understand.
The remaining lizardfolk dropped their siege implements and ran to the aid of their chieftain, and things looked grim for a moment, as Allaxsim was surrounded by a crowd of angry lizardfolk two ranks deep, which were kept at bay only by the giant-sized reach of his longsword. Several others saw the rest of us and charged in with their clubs, pressing us so that we could no longer pick off the enemies on the fringe of the crowd pressing Allaxsim. I was running back and forth trying to keep my skull from being cracked by a lizard-man¡¦s club when he heard a many-voiced cry of dismay come from Allaxsim¡¦s direction, and looking up I saw the lizard-chief¡¦s head flying through the air from the impact of the paladin¡¦s gigantic longsword. This stroke broke the back of the lizardfolk company¡¦s morale, and those who had seen their chief slain began fleeing helter-skelter. It took little time before their comrades pressing Gwynaleth and Allandrin realized their fellows were in flight and joined the rout themselves.
We pursued and slew as many of the vile creatures as we could, but half a dozen or so escaped, and we captured six of them¡Xthe shaman had thrown his miserable life upon Allaxsim¡¦s mercy, Allandrin had put two of them to sleep with his magic, and three more were grievously wounded but alive, and Allaxsim would not let us put them out of their misery. ¡§Who the gods of battle have preserved, let us greet with sheathed swords,¡¨ quoth he¡Xa Hieronean saying, no doubt.
The men of the keep were ecstatic at their miraculous rescue. They had received word of a raid on a nearby village, and a squad of ten soldiers with Marzena in charge had gone to investigate that morning. Not long after they departed, the lizardfolk force had arrived and begun their assault. They had broken open the gate, and the soldiers had repulsed them, but at the cost of 13 men dead, including their captain, and four grievously wounded. The patrol was due back at dusk but is not back yet as of this entry, and we fear that they were waylayed.
After a brief repast, we interrogated our prisoners, focusing on Shesht, the lizardfolk Shaman. I served as interpreter, being the only one amongst party and garrison who can speak the tongue of dragons, which serves as the lizardfolk vernacular in debased form. Shesht is a miserable, cowardly creature, and it took only a little intimidation to get him to talk. We found out that he and his companions belong to the Twisted Branch, a tribe numbering several score warriors. Their self-styled ¡§king,¡¨ Shukak, bears a fierce hatred of the ¡§tailless ones,¡¨ as the lizardfolk call humankind, and has mobilized his tribe to make war on us. He has also called upon the other tribes of the Mistmarsh to join him in this war. Shukak is advised by a she-dragon named Ilthane, who may have stirred him up to this malice¡Xbut Ilthane is often absent, as she was when Shesht¡¦s raiding party departed.
Shesht cited a most curious and intriguing reason for the Twisted Branch tribe¡¦s war on the ¡§tailless ones.¡¨ A disease they call the ¡§plague of worms¡¨ has wiped out several recent broods of eggs, leaving the tribe bereft of the young warriors they need to ensure their survival. Interesting indeed¡Xa lead that must be followed, though it may be dangerous to do so. Shesht blames the disease on a curse laid upon the lizardfolk by the ¡§tailless ones,¡¨ but when pressed on how this curse is supposed to work, or exactly who pronounced it, he gets very vague, saying only that wise Hishka, the tribe¡¦s greatest shaman, says so. I very much doubt this theory¡Xit would seem these lizardfolk live a long way out in the swamp and have very little to do with humankind, so I see little motive for one of us to do such a thing, at least before the raids started. But I would like very much to speak with this Hishka, if it is not too difficult.
Well, it has been a long day, and it is long after dark¡Xwe had best rest and take new counsel on the morrow. Hopefully, the soldiers¡¦ fears are ill-founded and Marzena will return later tonight or early tomorrow, so we can consult further with her on the worms before plotting our next move.
Starday, First Day of Richfest (morning entry)¡XWell, we received further word of Marzena¡¦s squad over the night, and it wasn¡¦t good. Their patrol was ambushed, and only one badly wounded survivor managed to stumble back to the keep in the early hours of the morning. The others were killed, except Marzena and three private soldiers who were captured and carried off by the lizardfolk. We were awakened with the news, and after briefly taking counsel, we decided that a prisoner exchange is in order. We are setting off this morning for the lair of the Twisted Branch tribe with Shesht and two other healthy lizardfolk in tow. The three wounded ones will remain here under the care of the soldiers, as hostages to be released upon our safe return. We hope we shall be able to win the release of Marzena and her comrades-in-arms, and if it is possible to arrange an interview with Hishka, so much the better! We are headed into the Mistmarsh this morning on foot¡Xour horses are useless in the swamp and we¡¦ve loaned one to the garrison, which is sending a messenger back to Diamond Lake with a report of the battle and a request for reinforcements. (We would have done so in the evening, but our horses were tired and we feared that lizardfolk marauders might intercept the messenger.) So I offer prayers now to the gods to keep us safe from treachery by the lizardfolk and the infamous dangers of the Mistmarsh.
DM Note--Well, this brings the journal up to date with the campaign through April 15th. Next installment will appear sometime in July.
Congratulations on an excellent campaign write-up so far! You've attracted at least one fervent reader (or so the last two hours of reading since I followed your direction from another thread would seem to indicate).
I wouldn't mind a bit more DM intrusion into the narrative (via explication, rulings, etc.). Any chance of seeing more details on the particular characters? How about some comments on running the AP for one player? (I'm doing the same for my wife; she's actually running all 4 characters, which is working fairly well, though combat sometimes slows to a crawl.)
Congratulations on an excellent campaign write-up so far! You've attracted at least one fervent reader (or so the last two hours of reading since I followed your direction from another thread would seem to indicate).
I wouldn't mind a bit more DM intrusion into the narrative (via explication, rulings, etc.). Any chance of seeing more details on the particular characters? How about some comments on running the AP for one player? (I'm doing the same for my wife; she's actually running all 4 characters, which is working fairly well, though combat sometimes slows to a crawl.)
Darkbard, glad you like it so far. I'll try to add some of the requested commentary into the next batch of log entries. My son is coming to visit next month, so we'll be finishing EBK, and hopefully running HoHR, possibly starting CB. I'll certainly make some notes on how I handle all the doppelgangers, which are extra challenging to pull off in a one-on-one. Sometimes I don't get caught up on the log for over a month after the actual gaming session, so I may forget to comment on a few things that deserved it, though.
As for details on the other characters, maybe I'll have to shift my narrative perspective a bit, so I, and the readers, don't get bored with the limited perspective of Barbazad, who is a bit of a lab-rat, after all.
Episode Six: Plague and Perfidy in the Mistmarsh
Gwynaleth begins keeping a journal--first day in the Mistmarsh
Preface
My friend and companion at arms Barbazad Grobadore has been keeping a journal of our party’s adventures since the Company of Light was formed, which was a month ago to the day. He has let me read some of his jottings, and they carry much insight into our adventures, but I must say that his perspective is rather different from mine. Over the last month, I have spent much time in prayer and contemplation, and have come to realize that the blessed Ehlonna Elenestra has granted me a ray of her precious sunlight to guide me, a ray that penetrates the dark forest canopy overshadowing me and reveals the path I must follow. I am beginning this diary now to record the turnings of my path, and if it be the Lady Ehlonna’s will that I must sacrifice my life for her cause, I pray that my companions will send this written relic of my thoughts to my beloved mother Arlyriel Galánodél, that she may understand more fully Ehlonna’s calling for me, and grieve proudly for one who has given herself as fully as she may to the cause of the goddess we both serve.
Entry for Starday, the First Day of Richfest, Common Year 695.
I meant to start this diary the night we left Diamond Lake, but I was tired from the road, and decided to enter tranquility right after supper. We were attacked that night by that awful bully Kullen and his gang, and Allaxsim was slain, and so my diary fell by the wayside. Last night I was also bone weary, after a lengthy parley with a Hieronean archbishop, a long march to Blackwall Keep, a great battle under its walls, and a late night of interrogating prisoners. So finally, I have a chance to begin my diary tonight, huddled close to our small fire in the hopes that the gnats and mosquitoes will be driven away by the smoke.
This morning, we sent a message to alert the Diamond Lake garrison to the events at Blackwall Keep and ask for reinforcements for its depleted garrison. We were going to loan Barbazad’s horse to the messenger, but then Barbazad, who seems each day to become more and more the forgetful wizard, remembered that he had a feather token in his pouch that could conjure a messenger pigeon. Hopefully the magic token will bring up reinforcements quickly and save Barbazad a long walk on foot back to Diamond Lake when we finish our current mission.
We had determined to set out through the Mistmarsh this morning for the lair of the Twisted Branch tribe. We brought with us three lizardfolk prisoners, including their shaman’s apprentice Shesht, shackled together to prevent escape so that they can be exchanged for Blackwall Keep’s battle mage Marzena and two other soldiers reported captured by Twisted Branch raiders. Aside from muddy boots, wet leggings, and a run in with a hungry snake big enough to swallow Barbazad whole, our travel might be said to have gone smoothly. The foolish serpent would not listen when I tried to explain to it that we are travelling in the service of Ehlonna, so I was forced to use my arrows to convince it to let Allaxsim free from its coils. It took quite a few of my clothyard shafts and a blow or two from Allaxsim’s poniard before it saw Ehlonna’s light and slunk off into the muck. I pray that it will feel Elenestra’s healing and enlightenment, and live a wiser snake.
Well, the mosquitoes are quite fierce tonight, and I have the midnight watch, so I shall end my jottings for the evening and see if I can find enough tranquility under my bedroll to refresh myself for the morrow.
Peruhain,
Thanks for your hard work here. I've enjoyed it greatly. I was hoping that you might be able to e-mail me some info (stats?) about what you did with Kullen's gang. I'm thinking of swiping your idea and I'd be interested in more specifics from your experience. tccollyer is my gmail account.
Thanks again for your story! I'll keep reading if you keep writing...
Peruhain,
Thanks for your hard work here. I've enjoyed it greatly. I was hoping that you might be able to e-mail me some info (stats?) about what you did with Kullen's gang. I'm thinking of swiping your idea and I'd be interested in more specifics from your experience. tccollyer is my gmail account.
Thanks again for your story! I'll keep reading if you keep writing...
Eltanin--I should have time to finally get my home computer hooked up to the web tonight. Assuming everything works, I'll e-mail those stats over, and post more of this log. Cheers!
Gwynaleth converses with a giant crocodile--an encounter with the Floating Log tribe--gnatsbane
Entry for Sunday, the Second Day of Richfest.
This day started with another close brush with the many creatures of the swamp. Allandrin was on watch, and I was just beginning my morning prayers when he tapped my arm to get my attention. He had seen something moving in the water outside the clump of mangaroo trees that sheltered our campsite, and looking outward, I saw in the dim light something that looked like a huge log with eyes. ¡§A crocodile,¡¨ I said, ¡§a big one. Let us see if this one has more sense than his brother the snake.¡¨
I called on Ehlonna for the power to speak with the great reptile, and found that he was indeed old and wise in the ways of the swamp. It is difficult to translate the speech of crocodiles into human language, but here is an approximation of our conversation:
ME: Why are you intruding on our rest?
CROC: Hungry! My hunting ground!
ME: We will leave your territory shortly. My companions and I have long, sharp claws, and will not make a tasty meal for you, so you¡¦d best leave us alone.
CROC: Tied up ones look tasty!
ME: We won¡¦t give them to you. We need them.
CROC: I eat them anyway! Then I eat you too!
ME: No you won't! I serve Ehlonna, the forest goddess, and she gives me power over animals. If I call on her, you¡¦ll stop dead in your tracks. Then my friends will stick you with their sharp claws and we¡¦ll eat you instead! Save yourself the trouble and go eat a swamp pig instead!
CROC: (Retreating.) You¡¦ll be sorry if I ever catch you in my hunting ground again!
It took some doing, but in the end I made him see that we¡¦d be a tough meal to swallow, and he swam back off into the swamp.
Over breakfast, I could see that poor Allandrin was tired. His eyes were red from lack of sleep, and face was puffy from mosquito bites. (He must taste sweetest of all the party!) We were all miserable as we swatted mosquitoes right and left between bites of porridge, but he was so annoyed at them that he rampaged about for ten minutes, slapping his hands together in the clouds of bugs to try to exterminate enough of them so he could sit on his mangaroo root and eat in peace. Seeing him this way made me feel sorry for him, and I felt even worse when I remembered stories I¡¦d heard about people being literally eaten alive by flying insects in the Gnatmarsh near my home. I hope these insects don¡¦t get any worse, I thought, as I scratched my itchy arms, otherwise we all might be eaten alive. Finally, as we were finishing breakfast, Barbazad managed to swallow a mouthful of porridge that had more bugs than barley grains in it. Even with his cast iron dwarven stomach, he coughed and gagged, spluttering drowned bugs and bits of barley out his nose and into his beard. I would have fallen on the ground laughing, had a particularly large mosquito not chosen that very moment to land on the tip of my nose and bite, giving me a large and unsightly pimple there that lasted the rest of the day. I nearly broke my own nose trying to kill the dratted thing, and that did make my companions so mirthful that they rolled in the muck like three big pigs! That set me to thinking what to do about these cursed mosquitoes, which are surely the plague of some demon prince or another sent to ruin the beautiful world of nature that Ehlonna bids us freely enjoy.
About midday, Shesht was leading us toward a gap between two mangaroo groves when we spotted some lizardfolk trying to hide among the trunks. An ambush! Allandrin and Barbazad stepped forward, gesturing for a truce, and Barbazad translated Allandrin¡¦s attempts at diplomacy into the dragon-speech that lizardfolk use. These lizardfolk were from the Floating Log tribe, and were quite hostile toward our Twisted Branch prisoners. Our entreaties to let us pass peacefully were rebuffed, and they made it known that they would attack us unless we retreated the way we came. We conferred briefly in the Common Tongue, and decided to turn back, then look for a way to circle around the Floating Log ambuscade without being seen. We slogged back through the swamp for a mile or so, but I noticed from my position as rearguard that they were following us. It was clear they wanted to make sure we left their territory, and it might be that they would try to attack us at unawares while we slept or ate. So, we cast spells upon ourselves to protect us and make our swords bite harder, then turned on them and offered battle. It was a short contest, and we slew all five, even those that turned tail and ran, so that they would not bring the whole tribe to us. They were poorly equipped with weapons of stone, wood, and bone, but one carried two vials of an interesting silvery liquid in a snakeskin pouch. Barbazad couldn¡¦t tell us what they were, but kept them. He¡¦s a pretty good alchemist, almost as good as Benazel back in Diamond Lake (though he falls more than a long bowshot short of Benazel in looks, I must say), so I¡¦m sure he¡¦ll figure out what the liquid is and what it¡¦s good for, once he has access to Allustan¡¦s laboratory.
After our battle with the Floating Log warriors, we were able to backtrack and resume our original course, which Shesht assured us is the most direct route practicable for ¡§Tailless Ones¡¨ in heavy armor. (Allaxsim is slogging through this swamp in the fancy suit of battle plate he won from Theldrick. I¡¦m not sure whether he¡¦s a fool or a genius. Every other step I¡¦m afraid I¡¦ll see him sink up to his neck in the mud, or worse yet stumble headfirst into a knee-deep bog and drown because he can¡¦t lift his head above water. On the other hand, the mosquitoes don¡¦t bother him much except at night, when he sleeps in his chain ¡§night¡¨ shirt. Steel plate is almost as good as a lizardfolk¡¦s skin for keeping the mosquitoes at bay, it seems.) As nearly as I can tell, Shesht is not deceiving us¡Xwe¡¦ve been headed nearly due south, except when we have to get around deep bogs or open water, and that tallies with what she said earlier about the location of the Twisted Branch Lair.
About mid-afternoon, I remembered something I should have thought of before, and I slapped my forehead so hard my comrades thought I¡¦d been bitten by another big mosquito. Gnatsbane! That¡¦s what my father used to use when he had business in the Gnatmarsh. Crush the leaves and rub them all over your skin, and the biting insects leave you alone. The smell is pretty pungent, like a combination of garlic and bay leaves only about five times as strong, but it doesn¡¦t bother you as much as the mosquitoes, or so my father claims. So when we made camp, I took Allandrin with me to go see if we could find some. Of course that meant that Barbazad and Allaxsim cooked supper, which meant charred salt beef and bean soup with a distinctive, blackened crust. It¡¦s amazing that the garrison soldiers don¡¦t all starve to death when they¡¦re out on patrol, if they cook like that, and I can¡¦t believe that Barbazad can be so careful to heat his alchemical solutions to just the right temperature, yet forget he has to stir the pot to keep the soup from burning to the bottom. You¡¦d think that men cooking was a perversion of the good Lady Ehlonna¡¦s laws of nature! Maybe I¡¦ll leave Allandrin behind to supervise next time¡Xhe¡¦s much better with such things, although he could use a few cooking lessons himself. Seems like a girl can¡¦t escape kitchen chores unless she gets away from men entirely. Anyhow, we found our gnatsbane, and gathered enough to chase away the mosquitoes for one night. Gosh, this stuff stinks so bad they must smell me in Ehlenestra¡¦s own lodge in the holy forests of Krigala! My mother must not know about this stuff, or she¡¦d make me wear it as a boy repellent! Well, if I can ignore the smell of this stuff, I¡¦d better put away my journal and try to find my ¡§heart of peace¡¨ for the evening¡XI have the midnight watch as usual, and tomorrow we will parley with the Lizard King, so we all must be on our toes.
More crocodiles--we reach the Twisted Branch lair--an audience with the Lizard King--Allandrin displays his finesse--Hishka
Entry for Moonday, 3rd Day of Richfest.
The excitement started early on this day. As I was relieving Allaxsim on watch, about midnight, I spotted a pair of crocodiles circling the mangaroo grove in which we were camped. These were much smaller than the one I had talked to the night before, but they were much hungrier, it seems, for they wouldn¡¦t listen to reason. Instead, they attacked, and one seized Allaxsim¡¦s leg and tried to drag him into the swamp. By Ehlonna¡¦s command I froze that one in its tracks to keep it from dragging Allaxsim, who was wearing only his chain shirt, any farther into the water. The other tried to attack him as well, but fortunately the struggle woke Allandrin and Barbazad, and with their aid we were able to kill the recalcitrant beasts. I gave a prayer of thanks to Ehlonna for granting victory to the hunted in this battle, and in the morning we fed one crocodile to our prisoners, who fell upon it and devoured it like a pack of hungry wolves. They seem to prefer raw food, for they barely touched the salt pork and bean soup we offered them the night before. (Well, maybe it¡¦s just Barbazad¡¦s cooking!) The other crocodile we kept to present as a gift to the Lizard King, cutting a pole out of a sturdy mangaroo branch and tying the beast by its feet, nose, and tail so we could carry it.
By midmorning, we had squelched through the remaining bits of swamp separating us from the Twisted Branch lair. Our arrival caused quite a stir, but we showed the truce signal and Allandrin explained, with Barbazad translating, that we wished to present the crocodile we had killed as a gift to their king, and hoped to parley with their king about exchanging prisoners, and that we also wished to consult with their esteemed shaman Hishka about the worm plague that had recently afflicted their tribe. We hoped the parley would take place outside their lair, but after the guards relayed this message, the King sent a messenger to tell us he would treat with us only in his throne room. We had, it seems, put ourselves in a difficult position. Allaxsim certainly would not stand for threatening to kill our lizardfolk prisoners, and even making the threat might cause them to start killing Marzena and the other captured soldiers. If we released our prisoners as a sign of good will, we would have no bargaining leverage. Now we had little choice but to retreat and give up the attempt at negotiating an exchange, or to enter the lair of the lizardfolk, praying to all the gods that the Lizard King would honor the truce and not seize us. Our prisoners had to come with us, making it all the more tempting to the lizardfolk to capture us and free their fellows by main force. Barbazad asked each of us what we thought of the situation. Credulous Allaxsim could not imagine treachery, it seems, and voted for entering the lair. I voiced my opposition, but Allandrin chimed in, arguing that the lizardfolk now knew of our presence, and even if we were to retreat and try to sneak in to rescue the prisoners later, they would be on their guard, and might even ambush us with a larger force before we could return. It would be best to attempt diplomacy now and hope that they would respect the sacred gift-offering of truce, he insisted. In the end, we all agreed, and I entered the dripping, muddy tunnels under the mangaroo grove with the others, feeling clearly the irony that as I brought up the rear and watched over our lizardfolk prisoners, half a dozen of our lizardfolk escorts watched over me from behind.
Our escorts brought us through a maze of tunnels carved out from the root mass of the massive mangaroo grove, dank and dark and lit only by the faint flames of the rushlight tapers our escorts carried. Finally, someone up ahead shouted what I suppose was an announcement of our arrival in dragon-tongue, and we filed into a particularly large chamber, filled with guards on three sides. In the center of the chamber was a perch built of bones¡Xsnake, crocodile, swamp pig, human¡Xall the species they preyed upon were represented. The Lizard King Shukak squatted upon this morbid pile, a huge, brawny lizardman covered with scar patterns and adorned with precious necklaces and gold bracers. The scales around his mouth were stained black. He carried a long-hafted trident in his right hand, its tines grounded on the floor. By his side was a stooped old lizardfolk that I recognized as a kecuala-pengua, one of the hermaphroditic lizardfolk often revered as shamans by their tribes. This must be Hishka.
Allandrin stepped forward with his translator Barbazad in tow, and began to address the Lizard King.
¡§We bid Your Majesty a good morning, and bear greetings from the officer-in-charge at Blackwall Keep.¡¨ (Paused for Barbazad to translate). ¡§We humbly request the opportunity to discuss with Your Majesty the possibility of exchanging the three prisoners we have brought with us for the three soldiers from the Blackwall garrison whom your warriors captured three days ago.¡¨ (Paused for translation). ¡§We also beg leave to discuss with your esteemed shaman Hishka certain matters pertaining to the plague of worms Your Majesty¡¦s . . .¡¨
The Lizard King jumped to his feet, roared, and hurled his trident, so quickly that Allandrin was barely able to turn and catch the blow in his shoulder rather than through his chest. It seems his fine words were wasted on this perfidious devil, who bore us such ill will that he would not even listen to the rest of Allandrin¡¦s speech. Despite our uneasiness at having to negotiate in the lizardfolk¡¦s lair, the King¡¦s precipitate resort to violence caught us off guard, and before we could react, we saw the trident wrench itself from Allandrin¡¦s shoulder as if by magic, fly back into the enraged King¡¦s hand, and be launched again by his powerful arm, this time catching Barbazad in the chest. I can only guess that some magical ward my dwarven companion had cast earlier saved him from being pierced through the heart. The lizardfolk behind me surged forward, hemming us in and threatening us with their clubs. We were victims of treachery, and the situation looked grim. The thought raced through my mind that even were we to win free of the massed reptiles, I wasn¡¦t sure I would be able to find our way back through the maze of tunnels to the safety of the swamp.
As my companions drew their swords and tried to position themselves back to back, I turned to put my back to the mangaroo roots and called upon Ehlonna to calm the angry lizardfolk, who were now riled like a swarm of hornets whose nest has been disturbed. A few of the King¡¦s guards backed up and took a defensive stance, but the King himself leapt from his throne and pricked my comrades with repeated thrusts of his trident, and several of the lizardfolk around me kept swinging their clubs. Dodging madly, I called upon Ehlonna once again¡X¡§Be as an oaken shield to ward me from my enemies¡¦ blows,¡¨ I prayed. And at that moment, another powerful lizardfolk warrior shoved his way into the fray, roaring and flailing with his sharp claws. Barbazad fired a ray of crackling blue flames that caught this one in the chest, but his spellcraft merely enraged the beast all the more, and he was borne quickly to the floor, his robe shredded and bloody, and his face and neck sliced open by the thing¡¦s snapping jaws. Jaws that were blackened, like the king¡¦s. I used the swath cut by the berserk lizardman¡¦s passage to gain space to draw my rapier, and tried to distract the berserk lizardman so that Allaxsim and Allandrin could penetrate his guard. It seemed like an eternity before the brothers¡¦ repeated blows finally brought the raging berserker down, but it was probably only thirty heartbeats¡Xyet heartbeats are precious when each one pumps a little more of a dying comrade¡¦s blood out onto the floor, and I had no doubt that Barbazad would die if I couldn¡¦t get to him quickly.
Finally Allandrin¡¦s blade found the berserker¡¦s throat, and he fell atop Barbazad. I called once again on Ehlenestra¡¦s shielding grace, ¡§Like a hare in the sanctuary of a briar thicket¡Xlet my enemies fear to approach!¡¨ The incantation worked, on the ordinary warriors surrounding me, at least, and I knelt and called upon Ehlonna¡¦s deep power of sunlight and life-spirit to mend Barbazad¡¦s torn skin and severed veins. When I looked up, Allaxsim fell backward, his gorget pierced by the King¡¦s trident. I caught a brief glimpse of the Lizard King, his belly slashed open by Allaxsim¡¦s sword, backing away and shouting at Hishka, for healing, I guess. Then Allandrin leaped into the gap, spinning and ducking to avoid two well-aimed club blows. ¡§For my brother!¡¨ he cried. By the time I pulled Allaxsim¡¦s helm off and channeled Ehlonna¡¦s healing touch to close the hole in his windpipe, the King lay on the floor, blood fountaining from his chest. Allandrin is getting quite good with his rapier!
The aging shaman had climbed atop the King¡¦s bonepile, and was shouting something to the crowd of angry lizardfolk surrounding us, waving its outstretched arms as though to calm them. By Ehlonna¡¦s blessed light, it worked, and the lizardfolk, whether in reverence toward their shaman or in awe of those who had slain their king and their fiercest champion, pressed back against the walls, and began to retreat from the room. As I helped Allaxsim and Barbazad to their feet, the shaman spoke.
¡§SSSooo! You have ssslain the mighty Shshshukak! We mussst talk! You will find me more willing to parley than the late ¡¥king.¡¦ You expresssed a desire to consssult with me? Let usss confer in my chamber, where we will not have to watch ¡¥his highnesss¡¦ sssquirm in his death throes.¡¨
Hishka's bargain--last rites for the Lizard King--poached egg and green worms--one of the lizardfolk manifests a strange malady
Richfest 3rd, continued
It is difficult to read the expressions of a lizardfolk, but Hishka seemed less than put out by the death of its chieftain and overlord. In fact, it turned out that the shaman had held serious disagreements with Shukak, who, it seems, was a newcomer to the tribe who had won his position by demonstrating considerable brutality and showing that he had the backing of a dragon. I suppose I’d be scared to challenge such a leader, if I were an aging lizardfolk shaman. At first, Hishka said it had believed the dragon’s theory that the “Tailless Ones” were behind the plague of worms that has destroyed the Twisted Branch tribe’s recent broods. Later, though, it became apparent to Hishka that the dragon was pushing Shukak to make war on the Tailless Ones, even though their territory is far from the central part of the Mistmarsh where the Twisted Branch make their home, and as the tribe sacrificed many of its grown warriors in fruitless raids, Hishka began to doubt whether the dragon had the tribe’s best interests in mind. Most of the neighboring tribes were certainly not willing to sacrifice their warriors in such raids when Shukak called upon them to unite with the Twisted Branch in this cause, even though many had suffered as badly as the Twisted Branch from the worm plagues. So Hishka has been waiting for an opportunity to overthrow Kushak and lead the tribe on a wiser course, and we have provided just such an opportunity.
We exchanged prisoners at that point to signal our mutual good will. Unfortunately, Shukak had ordered one of the soldiers sacrificed already, but the battle mage Marzena and the private soldier Drendal were restored to us. Hishka also granted us the belongings of the two slain leaders, in compensation for their treacherous attack on us when we came under the truce flag. Hishka also expressed an intent to end the hostilities between its tribe and the Free City Militia, and Allaxsim offered to carry the message to his superiors and try to arrange a truce.
Hishka owed us a big favor, but instead it asked for us to do another favor. It seems that the dragon, Ilthane, promised the tribe her “protection,” and left one of her eggs and some of her treasure with the tribe’s latest brood of eggs as a token of her good faith. Ilthane has been absent for well over a week, but she could return at any time, and Hishka fears that she will be angry and destroy the tribe’s eggs if she suspects the tribe has turned against her. The tribe needs to carry its eggs away to a new nest, hidden where Ilthane cannot find them. Unfortunately, Ilthane doesn’t trust the lizardfolk enough to leave them alone with her egg. She posted a small troop of kobolds to stand guard, and Hishka doesn’t expect the kobolds will stand idly by while the lizardfolk evacuate their own eggs. The problem is, they’re not ordinary kobolds. Ilthane gave them some sort of alchemical draft that made them tougher and more fearsome than ordinary kobolds, Hishka told us, just as she had done with the Lizard King and his berserk lieutenant. (This must be why the scales around their mouths were tinged black). So Hishka begged one last favor of us—to drive off the kobolds so the lizardfolk can save their eggs.
Hishka bade us to rest and see to the injuries of Marzena (whose hands and jaw the lizard king had brutally smashed to keep her from casting spells) and the soldier, while it saw to the last rites for the king and his lieutenant. “These you might not wishshsh to observe,” Hishka pointed out, “for I have heard you Taillessss Ones are sssqueamishshsh about eating raw meat.” Apparently, the lizardfolk eat their dead instead of burying them in civilized fashion. Naturally, we took Hishka’s suggestion and did not observe or partake in the ceremony.
The funeral took only a short while, though the sounds of the funerary feast emanating from the throne room made it impossible for us to choke down our own lunch of crisp-bread and cheese without gagging. Afterward, Hishka returned to instruct us. The egg chamber could only be reached through a long underwater passageway protected by several snares, but Hishka called upon the lizardfolk god Semuanya to let us breath water like a fish, and told us how to avoid the snares. Barbazad left his spellbook in Marzena’s care, and we plunged into the dark waters of the passage. Ehlonna answered my prayer to light my path, and Allandrin and Barbazad used their powers to conjure magical lights of their own, and before long we emerged in another underground chamber. Several of Hishka’s lizardfolk followed us to assist (and no doubt observe our conduct as well).
“Who dares to enter the egg-chamber of the mighty Ilthane, Mistress of the Mistmarsh and Lady of the Thousand Elixirs?” A single black-scaled kobold stood before us, its voice and its crossbow raised in challenge.
“Begone, for the Company of Light is here to chase the darkness from this place!” Allaxsim cried. As he spoke, several other kobolds emerged from shadowy crevices and behind piles of rocks, but Allandrin was already singing an enchantment, and one slumped down in slumber before it could launch a quarrel. The others unleashed a hail of tiny needles from their one-handed crossbows, but the few that found their mark did little more than a pinprick. We charged into battle, but they neither fled nor asked for quarter despite their small size. We kept a good line of battle for most of the fight, and only once or twice were they able to flank one of us. At the end, the last three drew up behind a pile of rocks near the edge of the shallow pool where the lizardfolk eggs lay half-immersed, and Allaxsim tripped over an egg as he tried to approach them, falling to one knee in the water and breaking open two of the eggs. In his frustration, he waded ashore and grabbed the last remaining kobold by the throat, choking it until it stopped moving. Eight kobolds would have been a battle for the lizardfolk, I suppose, but now they constituted an extra meal for them. They were little trouble for us.
We turned to observe the egg chamber, and saw Ilthane’s egg sitting like a single mountain peak among the hills of hundred or two lizardfolk eggs. On the earthen dam at the far end of the chamber sat three chests. Allandrin and I stepped carefully through the egg pool to see what treasure they might hold, but we found they were empty as an egg sucked by a weasel. Meanwhile Allaxsim found a small chest half-buried in a rock pile, but it only held four potions in vials of darkened glass.
“Some dragon’s treasure this is!” exclaimed Barbazad.
“Something is fishy here,” Allandrin mused aloud. “If Ilthane regarded this as a second lair, wouldn’t she have left more treasure? I wonder if that egg she left isn’t as empty as these chests?” He walked gingerly over to the halfling-sized black egg in the midst of the pool. I followed him, and Barbazad also walked out to join us. Allaxsim stayed on dry land and kept his clumsy metal-shod toes away from the lizardfolk eggs. Allandrin squatted down and looked at the egg. “Looks intact. Maybe we should move it out of the egg pool and on to dry land where we can get a better look at it.” He embraced the egg and hefted it, like a mother picking up a child grown too large to be carried easily. He took mincing steps forward, feeling with his toes for the eggs he couldn’t see over the black ovoid in his arms, but he hadn’t gone five feet before he slipped and fell into the water with a splash, crushing several more eggs with his fall. The fall cracked a small hole in the shell of the dragon’s egg.
“Green worms!” screeched Barbazad. “The egg is cracked and green worms are pouring out!”
I had no time to think, only to act. “Lady Ehlenestra, mend this thing,” I breathed, reaching out to lay my hand on the egg. The crack welded shut, but already scores of tiny green worms were swimming in the water, fanning out to nearby eggs and burrowing into them.
“Stand back!” shouted Barbazad, as he whipped out the adventurer’s wand. I gingerly retreated a step or two, while Allandrin struggled to his feet. Barbazad spoke a strange arcane word and a gout of flame shot forth. It killed a few of the worms, and enveloped the egg in flame as well, to what effect we could not tell. In a brief glance I saw Allaxsim lift a lizardfolk egg from the water with each hand and remove them to dry land. The lizardfolk who had accompanied us into the chamber followed his lead. Then a snapping noise caught my attention, and as I looked down one of the lizardfolk eggs popped open, and a hideous little hatchling crawled out. I stared in horror at this thing that had been a baby lizardfolk, but was now a horrid vessel of unlife, green worms crawling in and out of its putred flesh and empty eyesockets. I screamed, then reached for the silver unicorn at my breast and called on Ehlonna to purge this foul unliving thing with her purifying light. I felt her power surge outward through me in all directions, and the vile hatchling exploded in a puff of greenish smoke. More of the things hatched out—one bit Barbazad in the foot before he blasted it with the wand, and Allandrin managed to destroy another with a silver dagger he’d looted on one of our earlier adventures. I called on the power of Ehlonna once again, and the last one went up in smoke. No worms were wriggling in the water anymore, and it appeared that we were safe.
“This damn bite stings!” declared Barbazad. “The nasty creatures are poisonous.” Before he would let me tend to his wound, though, Barbazad insisted making “poached dragon egg à la verre,” hitting the egg with repeated jets of flame from the adventurer’s wand. Finally he was satisfied that the thing was properly cooked. After I had used a bamboo tube from my healing kit to suck the poison from his wound, and after the brothers and the lizardfolk had cleared a path through the lizardfolk eggs, we lifted the dragon egg out onto the sand and cracked it open. The worms had been reduced by the heat to a foul-smelling brown paste, which was disgusting but appeared harmless. We found a chest under where the egg had sat, tarred and sealed with wax to keep the water out, and filled with coins (mostly silver—Barbazad cursed “that damn miserly dragon”), along with a ring and six more of the potions in darkened glass vials.
Allandrin evinced suspicion about the darkened potion vials. “If the dragon filled her own egg with worms, who knows what sort of poison is concealed in those potion vials. We’d best be careful with them.” We took the dragon’s treasure and returned to Hishka’s chamber, as the lizardfolk returned the eggs to the pond, awaiting completion of a large number of woven baskets their comrades were making to carry the eggs away.
Hishka was sad that we had lost nine eggs, but happy that we had saved the other two hundred or so, and not at all surprised to find that Ilthane’s egg had contained worms similar to those that had destroyed the tribe’s previous broods. Hishka’s suspicions were well-founded. We have learned, more or less, what we set out to learn when we came to Blackwall Keep—Ilthane appears to be the source of the worms, whether she is spreading them intentionally or not. But where Ilthane keeps her main lair remains a mystery, as does her relationship to the prophesied Age of Worms. We will need to return to civilization and see what we can find out about this dragon, for powerful dragons rarely escape the notice of those who lust after their treasure troves, and rumors of where those might be found often circulate, by mouth or by writing.
One further incident happened while we were at the Twisted Branch lair that reinforced the danger posed by the worm infestation. After our adventure in the egg chamber, I went out with Allandrin to look for more gnatsbane, as the mosquitoes were a greater annoyance than usual in the dank lair. While we were gone, one of the lizardfolk, who had been feeling ill, was suddenly seized by his death throes. Hishka was summoned, and Allaxsim and Barbazad accompanied the shaman to see if they could be of assistance. Before their very eyes, the poor lizard-man breathed his last—then moments later worms began to burst from his skin, eyes, and nostrils, and he lurched to life, animated by whatever fell power the green worms possess. Barbazad was quick thinking enough to break a vial of alchemist’s fire over it and set it alight, while Allaxsim called upon the power of Hieroneous and sent it fleeing. The fleeing worm-spawn zombie-thing chanced to run into an assassin vine, an animate plant the tribe keeps as a guardian pet, and was slowly crushed by its strangling vines, but it left behind it more question marks than footprints. When we conferred later about the matter, we were puzzled how this full-grown lizardfolk had been infected with worms. He had not been in the egg chamber, but had been one of the warriors who participated in the recent raids on Mallow Gulch. Could he have been exposed somewhere else in the swamp? Could he have eaten something that carries the worms? Maybe Ilthane’s egg had somehow been infested by accident. I vaguely remember a few stories from my childhood—horror stories about zombies crawling with worms, which couldn’t be killed except by the touch of silver. “Spawn of Kyuss” they were called. I’d almost forgotten these stories, dismissed them as old wives’ tales, until now. If the being known as Kyuss is herald of the Age of Worms, as the mad grimlock priest of Erythnul claimed in his crazed scribblings, perhaps the term “Age of Worms” itself refers to a spreading plague of green worms infesting humanity and other life forms alike, turning everything in their path into worm-infested zombies, “spawn of Kyuss.” A terrifying thought that will no doubt intrude upon my meditations tonight as I try to enter the state of peace in this dank wormhole the Twisted Branch tribe calls home. Lady Ehlonna, may your light shine upon me this night and keep the green worms of undeath at bay while I rest.
DM notes--I added some in game effects from the swarms of mosquitoes in the marsh--nausea/distraction and exposure to a disease called swamp fever. (Of course there is an herbal remedy for almost everything, and the cleric of Ehlonna made her knowledge (nature) check. The idea was to emphasize the hostile environment in other ways than description and encounters with predators.
When Allandrin failed his balance check, I rolled 1d6 damage for the egg and it came up a 6. With hardness, this wasn't enough to shatter it, but I ruled that it was enough to cause a crack, which would be big enough for some worms to escape. This way, the party got to see what was up with Ilthane and the worms, suffered some consequences for bad luck, but didn't suffer the greater consequences that would have accrued had they foolishly smashed the thing wide open with a sword stroke. Although the cleric DMPC cast mending, my son was the one who suggested it. It wasn't a terribly challenging encounter, but it was interesting. I also decided to have the infected lizardfolk succumb to the Kyuss-worms while the party was staying at the lair, to add to the tension and urgency a bit, and drive home the point that the worms are a real menace, lurking in places the party might be unaware of.
Overall, we spent more time on random swamp encounters than anything else in this adventure--as you will see when I post the return journey to Blackwall Keep.
Episode Seven: Of Worms and Weregeld
Gwynaleth meditates on her ancestors--the first casualty of the Mistmarsh--we discover that gnatsbane is not a universal bug repellent
Entry for Godsday, the Fourth Day of Richfest, being Midsummer¡¦s Day and the Night Following being the Feast of Sehanine¡¦s Lights in the Reckoning of My People
By rights, I should have spent today celebrating the bounteous sunlight, which Ehlonna Ehlenestra bestows upon all growing things in the fullest measure on this one day of the year. The day dawned foggy, though, and none of our party desired to spend another day in the dank hole of the Twisted Branch tribe. Besides, the tribe would be abandoning this hole sometime today, eggs in tow, and who knows when the fearsome swampdrake Ilthane will return. Truly, we had no choice but to spend the day traveling, and yet I feel as though Ehlonna has withheld her blessing from me today. Tonight is the Feast of Sehanine¡¦s Lights, and I should spend the entire night making merry to cheer the spirits of my ancestors and singing psalms to the two full moons that grace Oerth¡¦s sky. But I am tired to the bone from walking and fighting, and I have no mirth in me to share with my ancestors, whose spirits are making merry with my cousins in the Celadon Forest, I pray. I am heartily sick of this wretched swamp, and am coming to think that perhaps this is one corner of the natural world on which my goddess has turned her back. In this place where elves tread not, two full moons will call forth only werewolves and the malevolent ghosts of those who have drowned in the bogs or perished from the fevers brought by the foul night humors of the marsh. The presence of Sehanine and the comforting spirits of the olvenfolk are nowhere to be felt tonight.
The day started badly, and went downhill from there. A fever seized Allandrin in the middle of the night, and by morning he was wracked with shivering chills. Swamp fever. Hieroneous granted his brother the miracle of a healing touch, which drove away the fever and chills, and further prayers lessened the grogginess the disease had brought, but seeing our comrade thus afflicted reminded us how unhealthy this swamp is, and we were quick to take our leave of Hishka¡¦s folk.
The six of us traced our way back across the swamp. This time I led the way, as we had lost our captive guides. I am pretty sure that we are still on track after wading and slogging past a number of mangaroo groves that looked familiar and seeing tracks that look like our own in the mud, but I won¡¦t be completely certain until I see Blackwall Keep rise above the mists. I pray that will happen tomorrow before sunset.
As the sun sank into the marsh mists in the west, I spotted a hillock in the midst of the bogs, a place that seemed once to have been inhabited by civilized folk, judging from the crumbling remains of a low wall on its crest. We headed for the hillock thinking to camp there for the night. As we reached the ruined wall and began to file through a low spot in the rubble, we were suddenly beset by howling, feral looking men with sharp teeth, gray skin, and malevolent, glowing red eyes. They leaped out from behind clumps of reeds and piles of rocks, and were upon us before we could draw our swords. They smelled of rotting flesh, and the one that attacked me bit my arm as I reached for my sword. Ghouls¡XI recognized what they were as I collected my senses, but before I could grasp my silver unicorn I saw one rip poor Drendal¡¦s throat out with its claws. Marzena was frozen in her tracks by the touch of another. Thank Ehlonna and Sehanine that a ghoul¡¦s touch does not affect us elves in that way. As my hand touched Ehlonna¡¦s holy sign, I called upon her power and felt the golden light of her caressing touch pulse through my body and emanate outward. As the light struck the ghouls, the four nearest to me reached up to shield their faces, but the purifying energy blackened their flesh and burned it away, leaving nothing but charred bones that fell in a heap where they had stood. Allaxsim slew another ghoul with his sword. The one that remained standing turned on him fearlessly, and I ran to aid him, but Ehlonna¡¦s power availed me not. Here was a foul, black pit of unlife too dark for Ehlonna¡¦s light to pierce. A ghast, it must be, a terrible, strong ghoul whose claws might even numb the blessed children of Sehanine and Corellon. Allandrin came to his brother¡¦s aid, and pierced the thing¡¦s back with his sword, but then doubled over, wretching from its stench. It took Allaxsim three great cuts with his sword to destroy the ghast¡Xthe battle cry ¡§Hieroneous!¡¨ sounded twice, each time calling forth a numinous bolt of lightning from our paladin¡¦s sword to smite this fell, hungry thing that was once a man.
We burned Drendal¡¦s corpse to keep it from rising as a hungry ghoul, and tended to the already festering bite wounds that the ghouls had left on Marzena¡¦s flesh and mine, doing our best to cleanse them with the brackish boiled swamp water that was all we had left in our water skins. Then we pressed onward until darkness forced us to camp, as none of us wished to camp on the ghouls¡¦ knoll. Tired though we were, Allandrin and I went to look for more gnatsbane to fend off the mosquitoes. I felt confident we would get a decent supper, since I left Marzena to supervise the inept cooking of the men.
It took some searching in the twilight to find a patch of gnatsbane, and we must have been half a mile from camp when we came across a mound sticking up out of the muck, covered on one side with a mix of razor grass and gnatsbane bushes and on the other by a copse of hickory and swamp cypress. Allandrin and I made our way up the slope, careful to avoid cutting ourselves on the sharp tufts of grass, plucking gnatsbane leaves from the bushes and tucking them into folds in our cloaks. When Allandrin was near the top of the slope, he suddenly stopped and stood up.
¡§What¡¦s this?¡¨ he exclaimed, holding something up for me to see. ¡§A spider web! I don¡¦t like the looks of those strands¡Xthey¡¦re as thick as a rope!¡¨
I caught a glimpse of something huge and dark-colored squeezing out through a gap in the trees. Moving on many legs, the thing would be on Allandrin in seconds. An octet of hideous eyes glinted above a pair of scythe-like fangs, dripping with poison, as the spider dragged the rest of its bloated abdomen out from between the hickories and accelerated toward its victim.
¡§Look out!¡¨ I screamed, just in time for Allandrin to roll away in a flurry of scattered gnatsbane leaves and slide his rapier from its scabbard. I had no time to ready my bow, so I called upon Ehlenestra, ¡§Queen of the Forest, let your arrows harry mine enemies!¡¨
A golden bow appeared in front of me, wielded by an unseen hand, and began to fire clothyard shafts of gleaming light up at the spider, whose body hovered above Allandrin, suspended on legs arched as high as the roof-beam of a crofter¡¦s cottage. Allandrin swiped at it with his sword, then rolled again to avoid its bite as its jaws plunged downward at him. He was outside the arc of the spider¡¦s legs now, and instinctively I moved up to try to aid him, drawing my rapier as I did. A golden arrow punctured the monster¡¦s abdomen, but that only enraged it, and my rapier served only to draw its attention to me. As the pair of us sought vainly to target the beast¡¦s eyes with our slim blades, the hideous thing bit me, puncturing the metal studded leather of my jerkin as if it were silk gauze. At first I felt nothing but the pain of the bite, but as we fought I began to feel the strength drain out of me. I stepped back, and Allandrin tried to fend of the spider by himself, but he soon had several poisoned wounds for his trouble. Allandrin is tougher than I, but I could see that he would soon fail, and then both of us would be spider food. The golden bow fired its last arrow and returned to Ehlonna¡¦s celestial armory. In desperation, I called on her aid once more, as I touched my protector¡¦s shoulder. ¡§Ehlenestra who rules the venomous beasts, halt now the poison that flows in his veins.¡¨
As I said these words, Allandrin whispered some words of his own and groped backward, blindly swiping at me as he kept his eyes on the spider¡¦s threatening mandibles. His hand brushed my knee, and he shouted ¡§Run for it, Gwyn!¡¨
There was no time to think, so I turned and shambled away from the spider as best I could in my weakened state. Perhaps I could reach camp and bring my companions back to rescue Allandrin, if the spider did not eat him right away. At the bottom of the hillock, I looked back over my shoulder, and there was no sign of him. The spider loomed atop the mound, but then I splashed into the muck and the creature, alerted by the sound, hastened after me. I redoubled my effort, but felt so weak I could barely keep my feet moving. My lungs burned with the exertion, but my studded jerkin weighed me down as if it were a suit of plate and mail. My bow felt like a log bouncing up and down on my back and my rapier was as heavy as a cavalryman¡¦s mace. I was sure the spider could see my feet floundering through the mud and hear my labored breathing. Then I realized that I was hearing the sound of another set of straining lungs, and another pair of splashing feet just behind me.
¡§Keep it up, Gwyn!¡¨ Allandrin encouraged me in a low, breathy voice.
¡§I¡Xhuh¡Xcan¡¦t¡Xhuh¡Xmake it¡Xhuh¡Xmuch¡Xhuh¡Xfarther!¡¨ I was gasping so hard I could hardly get a word out between breaths. I could hardly lift my legs and my stomach felt as though I had swallowed a brick. I flailed through the water for another twenty steps, but my legs could hold me up no more. I stumbled and fell face down in the mud, and Allandrin fell on top of me.
¡§Lie still!¡¨ I heard his harsh whisper in my ear as he yanked my braid to pull my head up out of the mud. Then he rolled off of me, grabbing me by the shoulder to pull me on to my back as he did so. Thank Ehlonna, I could breath. I heard him crawling and rolling through the muck, and became aware of the dark shadow of the spider looming over me. It seemed to be staring downwards, right at me, its alien eyes gleaming in the faint light of the rising moon, its fangs dripping poison on my belly. I was going to die, and I couldn¡¦t even whisper a prayer to Ehlonna with my last breath.
¡§Hey! Over here!¡¨ I heard Allandrin¡¦s tenor voice calling out from some distance away. ¡§Over here you stupid thing!¡¨ The spider turned and pursued the sound. At intervals I heard Allandrin¡¦s shouts, growing fainter with distance. I lay quietly until I couldn¡¦t hear anything but the chirping of the frogs and the whining of the mosquitoes that were gathering to feast on my blood. Then I decided that I¡¦d better see if I could manage to crawl back to camp. My arms were so weak I couldn¡¦t push myself up to a sitting position, especially with my gear all mired in the mud, so I undid my sword belt and the baldric holding my bow case, and managed to wriggle to my hands and knees. It was then that I realized I couldn¡¦t see my hands and knees. Allandrin had saved me by casting an invisibility spell upon me. I breathed a prayer of thanks to Ehlonna for resourceful friends, and another that she might deliver Allandrin from the spider. I somehow managed to lurch to my feet, and leaving my gear behind, I stumbled off toward the little campfire that was now visible in the distance.
My friends were quite worried when I shuffled into camp and collapsed by the fire. I¡¦m sure I was quite a sight, and Allandrin had yet not returned. I told them what had happened, and urged them not to leave the safety of our camp to look for him just yet. Marzena helped me clean the mud off my face and hands, but my armor and my hair will have to wait until we get back to Blackwall. The mud stains in the margins here will attest to the filthy condition of life in the Mistmarsh. The others had already eaten, so I tried to drink some soup and eat a little bread and cheese, but the spider poison had ruined my appetite. Finally, when Luna was halfway to its midnight rendezvous with Celene, which hung small and bright at the zenith, Allandrin trudged back to camp. He expressed relief that I had made it safely, and explained how he had managed to evade the spider with his invisibility spell once he drew it away from me. I was so relieved to see him that I stumbled to my feet and gave him a big, muddy kiss on the cheek.
I am not sure that I have the right to ask the Lady Ehlonna for any more favors tonight, but I pray earnestly that she may protect us from harm on this most holy night of our people. And I pray that the Celestial Queen Sehanine Moonbow may forgive me for not performing the prayers and rituals that she asks of the olvenfolk on this night, for I am weary and weak beyond measure.
The spider comes back for more--a warm welcome at Blackwall Keep--surgery with a silver dagger
Entry for Waterday, 5th Day of Richfest
I write this entry with difficulty, for I am still trying to dispel the anger that disturbs my reflections upon the day, and keeps me from the calm of my night-meditation.
My weariness from fighting ghouls and spiders was dispelled somewhat by my nighttime meditations, and when Allaxsim tapped my shoulder to bring me out of my reverie, I was in a slightly better mood than I had been after my close brush with death. Since my bow and rapier were still somewhere out in the swamp, I borrowed some jars of alchemist¡¦s fire from Allaxsim and readied my hunting knife. The midnight conjunction of the moons had just begun, as Celene slipped behind the greater girth of her sister Luna. A swamp-wolf howled in the distance¡Xat least I hoped it was a mundane swamp-wolf and not a man called into beast form by the beckoning of the twin full moons. I struggled to watch carefully and patiently, doing my best to stamp out the crazy thoughts of horrible death that seemed to intrude upon my calm. Once, I caught myself looking inward as though I were in the midst of the night-meditation, but instead of feeling the calm of the imagined sunlit forest glade where my heart-mind takes refuge at night, my meditations were haunted by the image of the lizardfolk warrior eaten from within by a worm of Kyuss. I hadn¡¦t seen it myself, but Allaxsim had described in vivid detail the hideous transformation, and I could see in my mind¡¦s eye the green worms bursting out through his eyes and dangling from his nostrils, the skin shriveling as the creature¡¦s flesh was suddenly mortified by the worms¡¦ strange necromantic energies.
Returning to vigilance, I let the horrid vision go and focused on what my eyes and ears could perceive. Something was rustling the tules, and it wasn¡¦t the wind. Walking the perimeter of the small mangaroo grove in which we had taken shelter for the night, I scanned the moonlit marsh. There it was, a brief glimmer where the moonlight reflected off something. Eyes. Familiar eyes, though alien in form. The spider was back. Shouting to wake my comrades, I pulled two jars of alchemist¡¦s fire from my pouch. As the hungry monster made its way toward me, I lobbed one. It smashed against the beast¡¦s back, and bathed it in flame, with droplets of the liquid fire dribbling off its thorax and hissing where they fell into the water. As I launched a second flask, Allaxsim, Barbazad, and Marzena appeared from between the mangaroo trunks. Between the three of them, they made short work of the oversized arachnid, and the menace that had nearly made a feast out of me the night before would trouble the swamp no longer.
While the others were awake, I checked on Allandrin, who had not come at my alarm cry. The poison-delaying prayer had worn off, and the poison in the three punctures wrought by the spider¡¦s fangs had rendered him so weak he could not rise from his bedroll. The poor lad lay there, weakly clutching his dagger, but it was doubtful he could have used it if the spider had reached him. I comforted him and assured him that I would chant a restorative litany in my dawn prayers in order to drive out the poison. I finished out my watch, and took his as well, while our companions tried to snatch a few more hours¡¦ rest. When Luna set into the marsh, and the Sun¡¦s warm rays began to raise a silvery mist from the marsh pools, I woke my companions and set about my morning devotions. It took prayers to both Ehlonna and Hieroneous to get Allandrin on his feet and fit to walk. Marzena and Barbazad were in no happy state either, having been harried mercilessly all night by the mosquitoes after our failed attempt to harvest the repellent herbs the night before.
It took us three hours of searching to find my bow and rapier, and I was glad I had a dry bowstring among my pack to replace the one ruined by the bog-water. Having found these valuable possessions, we proceeded as fast as we might to the north, seeking to leave this foul boggy land behind us and return to terra firma before sunset. The day passed without incident, though we observed another ominous sign of the perils of the swamp in the afternoon, as we passed a series of life-like statues twisted into strange poses, as if they sought to evade or ward off a flying creature. It is said the mistmarsh is home to the dreaded cockatrice, and I suspect these statues were the handiwork of this creature.
It was twilight by the time the black stone of the keep appeared above the rising mists, and I¡¦ve never been happier for the sight of human habitation in all my many years. As we came closer, though, we were struck by the fact that a number of campfires were burning on the cleared land below the tower. We were challenged by a sentry as we approached, and he brought us to Dobrun Trent, the Diamond Lake garrison officer who leads the relief force dispatched to bolster the garrison here. Trent and his men were not the only visitors camped here, for he informed us that a group of dwarves was camped a quarter mile away. One of them had come to inquire about us¡Xit seems they are kin to the sentry I shot at Dourstone¡¦s mine. The news turned my relief at safely arriving here into a bad feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach. Dwarves are notoriously vengeful, and they could only have followed us to this isolated spot for one purpose. Trent gave us no time to dwell on our stunted pursuers, though. There was a reason why he and the soldiers were camped, instead of resting indoors behind the safety of the walls. It seems that the lizardfolk prisoners we left behind had given Trent a nasty surprise.
The night before they had begun pounding frantically on the door of the dead-end tunnel that served as their makeshift prison. After an hour or so of this racket, Trent had ordered his sargeant to take some men down there, open the lock, and threaten the prisoners into silence. When the soldiers opened the door, the three lizardfolk burst out, their visages crawling with worms and so ghastly in appearance that the soldiers all fled at top speed. The sargeant had enough presence of mind to call out for the evacuation of the lower level, and miraculously all the men escaped and were able to barricade the undead lizardmen in the lower level. Trent had ordered the entire keep evacuated and a heavy guard posted on the barricaded stairwell. The worm-infested lizardfolk zombies made several attempts to batter down the barricade, but the soldiers had managed to keep them penned. Trent was very glad to see Allaxsim, knowing that as a favored disciple of Hieroneous, Allaxsim is blessed with indomitable courage in the face of undeath. He begged Allaxsim to lead a foray into the Keep¡¦s lower level to destroy the wormspawn that now infested it. I thought it ironic that an officer who had given Allaxsim nothing but the hardest treatment since his arrival at Diamond Lake would now be so deferential and flattering toward him. Clearly Allaxsim¡¦s position in the Militia hierarchy has changed, and his confident answer to Trent¡¦s request did nothing to dispel the garrison troops¡¦ growing admiration for this soldier who had spent weeks mucking the latrines after missing his patrol¡¦s movement.
So, despite the fatigue of the journey, the five of us (Marzena insisted on accompanying we four members of the Company of Light) advanced cautiously down the stairs after the soldiers removed the makeshift barricade. Allaxsim led the way, his visor down and his sword drawn, and the rest of us followed, conjured lights on our hands or staffs illuminating the darkness. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Allaxsim turned right and stepped into the kitchen. I followed him. Suddenly, one of the wormspawn leaped out from behind the cooking cauldron. As Allaxsim raised his sword to strike it, its hand darted out and touched one of the eye-slits in his visor. A sword-blow soon drove it back, and before Allaxsim could raise his sword for another blow, I called upon Ehlonna and raised the silver unicorn I wear around my neck. A golden beam of light reached out to caress the wormeaten reptile, and as it did so, green worms, withered flesh, and bone melted into a brown puddle on the floor.
¡§Gwyn, there¡¦s a worm on my neck. Help me get my helmet off.¡¨ Allaxsim¡¦s voice sounded strained, but he was too brave to panic, just because a green Kyuss worm had gotten trapped between his gorget and his throat. His sword clattered to the floor and he began twisting his helmet to free it.
Before I could move, another of the infested lizardfolk darted out of a nearby room and took a swipe at me. A yell from Allandrin told me we were under attack from front and rear. I raised the silver unicorn again.
¡§Begone, in the name of Ehlonna¡¦s light!¡¨ I felt the warmth of my Lady¡¦s power surge through me, and with hideous, rasping howls the wormspawn fled.
¡§Gwyn, the worm just bit me. I need your help.¡¨ Allaxsim sounded a bit worried, but I¡¦m sure I would have been screaming if I were he. With a mighty pull, he jerked his helm from off his head.
¡§Allandrin, give me your silver dagger!¡¨ I¡¦m afraid I sounded more panicked than Allaxsim as I snatched the proffered blade and tried to find the worm.
¡§It¡¦s eating through me. It¡¦s up here!¡¨ Allaxsim pointed to a spot on the underside of his tightly clenched jaw. Gripping the dagger by the hilt with my index finger extended along the flat of the blade to keep it from penetrating to deeply, I set the point of the blade to the spot he had indicated and pushed it through the skin, then withdrew it. Blood gushed out and ran down his neck, but there was no sign of any worm.
¡§Here!¡¨ His rising pitch revealed that he was barely controlling his panic now, as he pointed to a spot on on his cheek. I plunged the blade in once again, but as I did so I could see his skin wriggling where the worm was burrowing across the top of his cheekbone and into his temple. There was no time to withdraw the blade before the ravenous worm burrowed through this weak spot in the skull into his brain, so I drew the knife across his face, opening a long incision. As I did so, the silver of the blade touched the tail of the worm, and it writhed, smoking, out of the open wound and fell to the flagstones, quickly melting to a pasty brown splotch on the floor. I could feel the relief as Allaxsim¡¦s muscles untensed beneath my left hand where I had placed it to steady his head. ¡§That was a close call,¡¨ he said in a harsh whisper.
¡§Ehlonna bind this cut without blemish,¡¨ I prayed as I held my hand over the gash I had just made. It would not do to scar such a handsome face.
¡§Thanks,¡¨ Allaxsim said in a steely voice, then picked up his sword and strode off to help the others finish off the cowering Kyuss-spawn. His brother would have kissed me in gratitude¡Xat least I imagine so¡Xbut Allaxsim¡¦s eyes are ever on his duty, and by the time the spawn were destroyed I suppose the moment for expressing gratitude in such a fashion had passed.
Dwur-folk honor and Olvenfolk honor
continued entry for Richfest 5
Lieutenant Trent¡¦s soldiers quickly and efficiently restored order to the Keep¡¦s basement, removing what was left of the corpses and burning them on one of the watchfires, and removing all traces of the disgusting, unpleasant smelling pile of brown goo where Ehlonna¡¦s light had melted the first spawn. By the end of the first watch of the evening I had scrubbed the marsh-slime away with soap and hot water, and we were enjoying a simple but welcome feast of baked potatoes, roast venison, and boiled greens in Trent¡¦s quarters. As we ate, Allaxsim briefed him in greater detail about our adventures in the swamp. Despite Trent¡¦s curiosity about how the lizardfolk prisoners had transformed into undead zombies, we did not report what we knew about the worms to him. We must remain discreet about our true mission¡Xothers may be seeking the knowledge of the worms we have gleaned, and if we tell one soldier we might as well tell all of them, and all of Diamond Lake besides.
After supper, Lieutenant Trent tapped a small cask of fine Naerie port that the late commander of the Keep would have no use for (since Trent¡¦s patrol had found and interred what was left of his corpse after the lizardfolk had finished feasting upon it. As we enjoyed this fine vintage, conversation turned back to the Dwarves encamped outside the keep. The feeling in the pit of my stomach came back, and not without reason. The stiff-necked fools have ridden all the way from Greysmere, all on account of that fool guard I had to kill at Dourstone Mine. Apparently these are his next of kin, whose duty it is to collect payment in blood or gold for their departed kin, a fact of Dwarven customs that Barbazad made a point of rubbing my nose in. Trent told us that their spokesman had come to him to demand a meeting with us while we were busy ridding the Keep of its undead pests. Barbazad says that they are bound to challenge the one who killed their kinsman (yes, that¡¦s me, a cold-blooded murderer in everyone¡¦s eyes, it seems) to meet one of them in single combat.
¡§He was working for someone who was sheltering evil under his roof, and is probably in league with the cultists himself for all we know,¡¨ I pointed out. ¡§He sold his sword to the forces of evil. Even if he was not evil himself, how can his kin blame us for killing him in our battle against the forces of evil?¡¨
¡§Good and evil matter little to my people when kin are involved,¡¨ retorted Barbazad. ¡§One owes certain duties to one¡¦s kin, and one of them is to collect their blood debts. If he were my cousin, I would be bound to do the same.¡¨
¡§Oh! And would you turn against me, your companion at arms, to collect a ¡¥blood debt¡¦ if your ¡¥duty to kin¡¦ required it?¡¨
¡§That¡¦s not a fair question to ask me, Gwyn. You know that would put me in a difficult position!¡¨
¡§You would, wouldn¡¦t you?¡¨
Barbazad turned bright red. To think that I thought of Barbazad as a friend! It angers me deeply to think he would turn against me like that. It¡¦s not like I¡¦d kill anyone without a good reason, especially the family of my friend. But if they stood on the side of evil, and the nature of my quest left me no alternative, what else could I do? That was the situation at Dourstone Mine, and I did what I had to. In war one does what one has to in order to survive and keep fighting, and are we not at war with those who wish to bring about the Age of Worms?
¡§Whatever the rights and wrongs of the matter, is it not better just to pay them what they ask?¡¨ Allandrin interjected. ¡§It¡¦s foolish for us to risk Gwyn¡¦s life over this. We¡¦ve got to get to the bottom of the Age of Worms prophecies, and we can¡¦t afford to lose one of our company over a matter that can be solved with coin.¡¨
¡§Well, as for the coin, I¡¦m sure they¡¦ll be asking a steep price,¡¨ said Barbazad. ¡§They will lose face in front of their clan if they return to Greysmere with light purses. And as for risking Gwyn¡¦s life, the customs allow an accused woman to select a champion to represent her. Allaxsim could fight in her stead.¡¨
¡§Ordinarily I¡¦d be delighted to serve as a noble lady¡¦s champion, to preserve her honor and establish her innocence¡¨ said Allaxsim. ¡§Unfortunately I am sworn to uphold the truth in all things, and I witnessed Gwynaleth kill the guard with my own eyes. If I champion her cause in such a trial by combat, I would be effectively swearing upon my life before the gods that she is innocent, and I would be swearing that oath in vain. Even if the Mighty Hieroneous saw fit to preserve my life in this duel of honor, sooner or later he would punish my oathbreaking. I¡¦d rather part with my gold than my honor. I don¡¦t share your Dwarvish notion of honor, Barbazad, but I can understand why this Firgi son of Halgi¡¦s kin see themselves as the aggrieved party. The poor fellow got caught in the middle of our war, and if it soothes his kin to pay them a compensation, then I¡¦m willing. And I¡¦d as lief not let Gwynaleth risk her life in this matter. She¡¦s a fine archer, and a steady companion, but she¡¦s no match in single combat against an axe-wielding Dwarven warrior, even if her slender maiden¡¦s figure would fit my battle plate.¡¨
¡§So it¡¦s agreed then,¡¨ Allandrin said. ¡§We¡¦ll cough up the weregeld and be done with it.¡¨
¡§Well, it¡¦s not quite so simple as that,¡¨ declared Barbazad. ¡§There¡¦s a ritual of confession and atonement that you have to go through, to show you¡¦re truly sorry for killing their kin.¡¨
As this conversation proceeded, I felt the choler well up inside me. Finally, I could take no more, and I dashed my pewter goblet to the ground, denting it and splattering the blood-red wine everywhere.
¡§Ehlonna¡¦s Light!¡¨ I swore. ¡§You want to protect me from a bunch of Dwarves? Do you think, after all the times I¡¦ve pulled your collective bacon out of the fire that I can¡¦t take care of myself? You¡¦re all so particular about your own bloody honor, but you don¡¦t think about mine! Why should I pay good Greyhawk orbs in compensation when I was doing my sacred duty, the quest my goddess has given me to uproot the source of the green worms? Do you Hieroneans send weregeld to all those poor Orc widows you leave behind after your battles with Iuz¡¦s armies, Allaxsim? And do you think I¡¦m stupid enough to face in single combat a Dwarf whose neck is so thick he can slide his gorget over his pea-brained skull without unlacing it? I won¡¦t pay, and I won¡¦t fight, and I certainly won¡¦t kiss their bloody toes and tell them I¡¦m bloody sorry! And those stupid stunterlings can go sit on their beards if they don¡¦t like it!¡¨
I glared at them. Allaxsim lowered his eyes¡Xthey say the only thing that a paladin lacks the courage to face is an angry woman. Barbazad glared back at me, his face red as a beet and his jaws working as though he were trying to come up with a retort. I guess my comments about his kind weren¡¦t very nice, but he deserved them. Allandrin gave me what I suppose he thought was a mollifying look.
¡§But Gwyn, be reasonable,¡¨ he said. ¡§If we don¡¦t pay, and we don¡¦t offer single combat, they¡¦ll declare a vendetta, and track all of us down and kill us, as long as one of Firgi¡¦s kin still lives. That certainly won¡¦t help us on our quest.¡¨
¡§Let them chase me!¡¨ I replied. ¡§Tell them you¡¦re innocent and I¡¦m the one that did it. I¡¦ll lead them on a merry chase through the forest, and any one of them that Ehlonna¡¦s creatures doesn¡¦t kill, I¡¦ll be waiting for him in the trees with an arrow at the nock. Then we¡¦ll see how much their steel plate is worth!¡¨
¡§Nine Hells, Gwynaleth!¡¨ Barbazad¡¦s flapping jaws finally produced an outburst of sound. ¡§If you want us Dwur-folk to respect your sense of honor, then have a little respect for ours!¡¨
¡§Well tell them to come out of their bloody holes in the ground and take note of the fact that we¡¦re fighting to stop something evil from happening!¡¨
I stormed out of the room and back to my quarters. I was so angry that I wanted to pull my hair out by the roots. And so frustrated by their stubborn stupidity that I was in tears. After I had let off some of my frustration, Allandrin knocked on my door. I didn¡¦t want to let him in, but he insisted on talking with me. He acted like he wanted to smooth things over, but all he really did was try to persuade me that I¡¦m being unreasonable. I¡¦m not, and it¡¦s just like a man to pretend to be reasonable himself when he¡¦s really just being stubborn. How can my companions in arms turn against me like this and try to force me to demean myself by paying for a life with gold? I don¡¦t know about Men and Dwarves, but to the Olvenfolk, a life is beyond price. If we choose to take a life, it is because we see no choice but to take it. If I kill a deer, it is because that deer¡¦s life is needed to feed those who depend upon me. If I take the life of a thinking, speaking creature, it is because my duty to my goddess requires it, because the cause of good in the Great Wheel requires it. That life is a holy sacrifice to Ehlonna, and to buy that life with blood money profanes the sacrifice.
I tried to explain all this to Allandrin, but he wasn¡¦t listening. Oh, he nodded politely enough, but he was there to try to convince me to follow their decision, not to negotiate a compromise that would take my honor or my feelings into account. All he could say to me was, ¡§I understand your feelings, Gwyn, but we really have no choice except to fight them or pay them. Don¡¦t you think it¡¦s better to save your arrows for those who are truly deserving of them?¡¨
Finally I lost patience and told him, ¡§We don¡¦t owe them anything, and if those stubborn fellows insist on attacking us, then they do deserve my arrows!¡¨
I guess I made my point, because all he could do at that point was to stiffly bid me to carefully consider the matter and to have a good night.
Well, I have been considering the matter carefully. I can¡¦t stop thinking how angry Barbazad and Allaxsim and Allandrin made me, suggesting that I need to be protected from these idiot Dwarves. I can¡¦t stop thinking how stupid it is to pay money for something that is beyond price, or how ridiculous it is to apologize for doing my divinely appointed duty. If I hadn¡¦t killed Firgi son of Halgi he would have raised the alarm, and if we weren¡¦t killed by Dourstone¡¦s guards we¡¦d have been hung for attempted armed robbery, and the crows and worms would still be feasting on our gibbeted corpses. Not only that, but the Ebon Triad cultists would have been left free to work their evil, the foul Ebon Aspect would have emerged much stronger from the pool, and half of Diamond Lake would have fed its lust for human flesh and the other half would have fled. Firgi son of Halgi would likely be dead anyway, and hundreds of others along with him. I did what I had to do to stop this evil from happening. Why can¡¦t anyone see that?
I pray Ehlonna¡¦s light may shine on my companions and these stubborn stunterling Dwarves, and make them see that I am right in this matter!
The debate continues over breakfast--communion and vision--paying the price
Entry for Earthday, 6th Day of Richfest
It was quite late last night when I finally retired to my bed for my night-meditations. The night watch gave me a wide berth as I paced off my anger with a hundred laps or so around the lower battlements, and I finally felt calm enough to meditate only when the waning, gibbous Luna had sunk halfway to the horizon in the west.
When I returned from my nocturnal refuge and regained awareness of my body, I felt a touch feverish. The skin where the ghoul bit me the evening before last is an ugly grayish-blue color and numb to the touch, and my whole left arm is a bit stiff and sore. It doesn¡¦t seem to have gotten any worse over the course of the day, but it bears watching. Allandrin¡¦s swamp fever seems to have flared up again as well, and poor Marzena was bedridden this morning, stricken with symptoms like mine from the ghoul¡¦s bite as well as a bad case of swamp fever. Poor woman, she must have breathed even more of the foul swamp humours than we, and suffered the stress of captivity as well¡Xit¡¦s a miracle she held up as well as she did on our homeward march.
When I went down to breakfast, Barbazad and Allaxsim were nowhere to be seen. Allandrin was eating the last of his oatcakes and washing it down with a mug of smallbeer. He put down his mug and wiped the foam from his upper lip with the back of his hand.
¡§Well, what did you decide?¡¨
¡§I haven¡¦t changed my mind about anything,¡¨ I told him. ¡§And you can¡¦t make me.¡¨
¡§I¡¦m not trying to make you do anything, Gwyn. I just hope that you¡¦ll think about what¡¦s best for the Company of the Light, and what¡¦s best for our quest. Honor is important, I guess, but I lost mine when I ran away to become a minstrel¡¦s apprentice. I want us to see our quest through, not because of my honor but because my gut tells me that if we don¡¦t, no one else will. And I want to be able to raise a glass with my companions at the end of it. If one of us dies, how would the rest of us be able to live happily ever after? Tragic tales are fine to sing songs about, and I guess it¡¦s better to die a hero¡¦s death if you have to die young, but it¡¦s better still to live, so you can tell your grandchildren the tale. I¡¦ll risk my neck to save you, Gwyn¡Xyou are my friend and companion on this quest. But I¡¦d as lief not risk my neck for mere honor. I know you value your honor, just as my brother values his. I wouldn¡¦t ask you to abandon your honor, but I hope that perhaps you can find a bit of honor in pity for the innocent victims who get caught between the two sides. Would not such pity entail being magnanimous to those who are bereft of a brother and a son, even if you feel they¡¦ve demanded too much from you in their grief?¡¨
¡§I still haven¡¦t changed my mind,¡¨ I told him gruffly. ¡§And it¡¦s time for my morning devotions. I¡¦m going out for a while, and don¡¦t be surprised if I still haven¡¦t changed my mind by the time I get back.¡¨
I slipped into my metal studded jerkin before I went out the Keep gate, and I brought my rapier and bow with me, in case those stunterling Dwarves decided to disturb my morning prayer. Then I took off into the mist, and walked a half mile or so until I found a small grove of oak and elm trees. I laid my bow and sword down on the ground in front of me, and sat with my back against a tree to pray. It was some time before could still my soul and prepare for the intimate moment of communion with Ehlenestra¡¦s presence. Usually a few deep breaths suffice, but this morning Allandrin had reawakened my anger and frustration, and I found myself having to recite a dozen novice exercises before the intruding emotions were washed away. Finally, I felt the familiar rush of sensations that I feel in the presence of the goddess. The chill, damp feel of the mist on my skin, the fragrance of the leafy mold replenishing the soil beneath me, the sound of the occasional drip of moisture falling from the outstretched arms of the trees to the carpet of leaves below, my perception of these things around me grew until there was no room for anything else. This is called Crossing the Fragrant Stream. I let myself luxuriate in the ecstasy of the moment for some time, knowing that in opening the floodgates of perception to the natural world around me, I become one with my goddess.
Finally, when I felt the Lady Ehlenestra¡¦s light warm every last part of me, from my toes to the tips of my ears, and had held that feeling for some time, I allowed my heart-mind to become aware of itself again, to drift free of my tingling body. My eyesight faded and I had the sensation that I was no longer bound by the frail cage of flesh. This is called Crossing the Silent Stream. In my heart I spoke to Ehlonna, confessing my fears and doubts, things done wrong and things left undone from the day before. I told her my worries about our quest, and asked her to show me the way to the source of the worms and give me the strength to fight it, whatever it was. I asked her to forgive me for being angry with my comrades yesterday. Even in my state of communion, it was hard to ask this. Deep in my heart, I knew I had said some cruel things to Barbazad, and that I had not conducted myself as a humble servant of the Lady of the Forest ought. It was the same feeling I had had when I shouted at my mother and told her to leave me alone, last month. But I knew that I was right to insist on not paying the weregeld, to insist on honoring Firgi son of Halgi as a sacrifice to the cause of the Light, and not to pay for him the way you¡¦d pay for a side of beef in the marketplace. So I told my goddess this, not in so many words, but speaking with my heart. I fought back the anger that this matter stirred up, then felt it well up out of control again, and for a moment my normal vision returned and I almost fell out of my divine reverie. Suddenly, I felt a wrenching sensation, as though the Lady had grasped my anger with both hands and ripped it out by the roots like some noxious weed. My vision blanked out again, and I felt a pain in my chest, but a surprising calm stilled my heart-mind until the pain faded.
It was then that Ehlenestra appeared to me. I saw a badger digging a burrow in the woods. It was a badger, but I knew also that it was Ehlonna, speaking to me, for I had a vision like this a few weeks ago, after we found out about the cultists in Dourstone Mine. The earth flew up from the mouth of the burrow for some time, then the badger re-emerged, dragging a purse full of clinking coins in its mouth. It waddled through the woods, dragging the coinpurse the whole way, and finally emerged in a clearing, where a group of Dwarves sat around a campfire eating. The badger waddled up to the stoutest Dwarf, dropped the purse at its feet, and put its muzzle against the surprised Dwarf¡¦s boot and licked it once or twice. As the startled Dwarf jumped up, the badger darted off into the woods. The Dwarf bent down and looked in the purse. The coins were gold.
As I realized what the Lady Ehlenestra was trying to communicate to me, I felt another surge of anger welling up inside, and once again the painful sensation in my chest as my goddess ripped the noxious weed of my anger up by its roots. Instinctively, I let go of my feeling this time, and I whispered ¡§Mother Ehlonna, help me to be humble and follow the path that you wish me to take.¡¨ I felt weak, almost limp¡Xfor what can one do but submit meekly when a goddess wants one to do something that goes against one¡¦s very instincts. And in that feeling of weak submission, I felt Ehlonna¡¦s embrace. Light filled my vision, but otherwise I felt as I imagine I must have felt inside my mother¡¦s womb. Achieving this state is called Crossing the Brilliant Stream, and it is only when she gets to this deeper communion with the Lady that a priestess can tap into her divine power and gain the miraculous gifts that she grants.
It is strange to reveal my most intimate moments with Ehlonna like this in a written diary. I know my mother will understand, if she ever sees it, but I must keep this book hidden away so that none of my companions can read it. If they did, it would be as though they had seen my unclothed body as I bathed in a forest pond.
Gradually, awareness of my surroundings returned. I savored for one last moment the lingering feeling of the forest filling my senses before I let myself come back to the world of deeds and affairs. Then I stood, and buckled on my sword and bow, and walked back through the mist to Blackwall Keep. I had the sensation that something was following me, and I looked back several times when I thought I heard footsteps swishing through the grass surrounding the keep, but I saw nothing.
Barbazad and Allaxsim were waiting in the kitchen when I returned. Allaxsim silently offered me a cup of hot tea to take the chill from the damp mist away. I held out my hands to accept, but said nothing. He looked at me expectantly, but I kept my silence. Then Allandrin walked in behind me. His boots were wet, as if he too had been out for a morning stroll.
¡§Well?¡¨ he said.
¡§I¡¦ll do what you want,¡¨ I mumbled. ¡§Pay the bloody weregeld from our treasure, and I guess I¡¦ll kiss their bloody toes if that¡¦ll make them happy.¡¨ I could see relief on their faces. ¡§But all three of you had better remember that I¡¦ve sacrificed my honor for the Company of the Light. I expect no less of you when the time comes.¡¨
Allaxsim had a troubled look on his face, but the other two assented. None of us apologized to the other for our heated remarks the night before, and things felt awkward between us all day. Barbazad instructed me in the proper words to say in the ritual of atonement and apology that I was to perform. It grated on me so much that I could barely force the words out of my mouth, let alone make them sound sincere enough to placate these dour and vengeful Dwarves.
The Dwarves¡¦ spokesman had announced early that morning that they would return at midmorning to hear our answer to their demands. When the time came, they marched up to a point just out of bowshot of the Keep walls, four men and an older Dwarf woman, all of them arrayed in either chainmail corselets or warriors¡¦ plate and mail. Their spokesman came forward, and Barbazad walked out the gate to meet him. Barbazad was to agree to whatever price they demanded without haggling, for as he told us, the Dwarves would be insulted if we tried to bargain over the weregeld. The price turned out to be quite steep: a thousand gold orbs to the bereaved parents and four hundred and fifty to the spokesman (a priest of Moradin) for his offices in conducting the ritual.
We met after the noon meal, in a pavilion the Dwarves had erected at the edge of the cleared ground around the Keep. Within the pavilion was a large flat stone that served as a temporary altar table, and upon this they had set a fine, bejewelled golden idol to represent their deity. The pavilion was filled with the scents of expensive incense, which I suppose was meant to purify the air for the presence of their deity. We who serve Ehlonna need little more than the clean scent of the forest to cleanse our hearts, but I suppose the delving Dwur-folk know little of the holiness that is to be found among the trees. The ceremony began with the bereaved family, parents, two brothers, and a cousin all declaring in the Common Tongue their grievance against the killer of their son. A litany in Dwur-speech followed, and then the father named the blood price, and the priest asked me if I would pay this price. As I had been instructed, I simply knelt and bowed until my forehead pressed against the ground, while Barbazad assented on my behalf, and knelt to present the gold and valuables humbly to them as a weregeld and peace offering, and to pay the priest his fee. After another litany I was asked if I confessed to the killing of Firgi son of Halgi, and I answered yes, and my companions knelt and confessed their part in the affair. I was asked if there were any extenuating circumstances, and I told them, trying hard to maintain my calm and fight down my resurgent anger, that he had been in the service of a man who sheltered evil under his roof, and that in doing his duty Firgi had stepped between us and the object of our quest, and I had had no choice but to slay him. After another litany, I was asked if I was sorry for Firgi¡¦s death, and I said I was. When I said the words, I didn¡¦t think I would mean them¡XI was saying them to make the Dwarves happy and follow the instructions Ehlonna had given me so clearly that morning. But if I didn¡¦t sound sincere, Barbazad warned me that we might still come to blows with the Dwarves, so I did my best to sound sincere. It took me a few moments to work up to it, and somehow in trying to sound sincere, I had to convince myself that I was sincere, and then once the words were uttered, I knew that I actually meant them. Tears streamed down my face. I hadn¡¦t really meant to kill any innocent people on this quest, but in the heat of the moment I had but a split second to decide, and I could see no choice but to put an arrow through his throat, so I did. Now I felt remorse, even though I knew that fate had guided my arrow, and I felt pity for his aging parents, who were bereft of a son because he had stood between me and my quest. I bowed to the ground and begged their forgiveness, forgetting the ritual and just saying the words that came into my heart. My companions were moved to do likewise. When I was finished, the priest began another long litany that seemed as though it would last all afternoon. He walked around to each of us where we knelt, and swung the censer around each person three times to the right and three times to the left. He intoned each time that our sin was atoned for and forgiven. Then he walked to the standing Dwarves and bade them kneel. He performed the same gesture with his censer around them, and instructed them that as Moradin had granted us forgiveness for our deed, it was their duty also to accept our weregeld, and to forgive us and declare an end to their anger. Each of them spoke words to this effect in turn, and after another long litany in the Dwarven tongue, the ceremony was ended. Before the ceremony, I had expected that I would have to run out of the tent as quickly as possible and go scream out my anger and humiliation, but somehow instead, my heart felt lighter, as if a weight that had been pressing down upon it were lifted.
We rested for most of the rest of the day, although we did take some time to assess the treasures we had won from the lizardfolk. Several proved to be useful, especially a set of magic bracers the lizard king had worn, and a ring that stores spells left by Ilthane with the suspicious potions. These we determined to leave sealed until we return to Diamond Lake and Barbazad can analyze them carefully with Allustan¡¦s alchemical equipment to make sure they are not tainted or poisoned somehow.
I have retired to rest early tonight, for we must away on the morrow, to bring news of our discoveries to Allustan and find out where our quest will lead us next. We must see if Allustan or anyone else in Diamond Lake has any books that contain any clues on the whereabouts of Ilthane or anything else connected to the cult or the Kyuss-zombies. I must rest well tonight, for a change, as I still feel weak and my arm is even stiffer than when I woke up. This morning I had to share Ehlonna¡¦s healing powers with Marzena, who was both fevered from the swamp and troubled by the taint of the ghoul¡¦s bite, and I¡¦m afraid I¡¦m suffering from the same affliction. May Ehlonna give me the strength to fight the taint of death within me, and to serve her faithfully again tomorrow. And I give thanks to Ehlonna for showing me this day that I must be willing to sacrifice my honor for her greater cause.
A worm sample--news from near and far--children's rhymes--discovery of the needle worm--soldiers' reports--experimenting with worms
Entry for Freeday, the 7th Day of Richfest
Today dawned clear and fair, and we arose early to begin the two-day journey back to Diamond Lake. I felt much better this morning¡XI am still a bit weak and my arm has a touch of stiffness at the elbow and wrist, but the feverish feeling I had at times yesterday is gone, thank Ehlonna. Allandrin still has a touch of the swamp fever¡Xhe¡¦s not recovering as fast as he ought to, but he¡¦s fit to travel, and so we departed as planned. Before we set off, Marzena bestowed upon us the worm she had saved from the dead lizardfolk at Mallow Gulch, floating in a small glass jar filled with brandy to preserve it. We need all the evidence we can gather to piece the mystery of the worms together.
We walked mostly in silence¡Xthe awkwardness from our argument had not completely passed, and I, for one, was determined not to spoil with senseless chatter the pleasant sensation of walking through the countryside on a sunny day. We saw few travellers, but about midafternoon we ran into a party of gnomish traders who were headed for the weekly market at Arleth¡¦s Cross, a few miles this side of Blackwall Keep. They figured with the recent news of lizardfolk raids there would be a good market for their goods, which consisted mostly of ¡§alchemist¡¦s fire.¡¨ We didn¡¦t buy any ourselves, but Allandrin shared a little of our wine with them in an attempt to gather the latest news. They were all abubble with rumors about who would fight in the Champion¡¦s Games at the Free City Arena, which is coming up in a month or so. It turns out Auric, the brawny fellow who has been exploring the Stirgenest Cairn with his companions, was the champion last year and is supposed to defend his championship. The gnomes are planning to go back to Greyhawk to watch the fights, and asked us if they would see us there. I saw Allandrin¡¦s ears perk up and his face brighten¡XI guess he must think it¡¦s exciting to watch a bunch of brawny gladiators beat on each other with swords and clubs¡Xbut we could not in truth say that we intended to go. The news from Diamond Lake was a little more disturbing¡XRagnolin Dourstone had been found with his throat cut the morning we left town. No doubt we¡¦ll be implicated, and I can only hope that our alibi of having spent the night at Allustan¡¦s will be enough to prove our innocence.
In the evening, we camped near Shank¡¦s Rest, and watched the clouds roll up from the south. We couldn¡¦t bear to spend the night in the cabin after what happened to us there a few days ago, so we found a cozy wooded hollow among the hills. May Ehlonna stay the rain until tomorrow.
Entry for Starday, Being the First Day of Reaping, Common Year 595
Allandrin felt much better this morning¡XI am sure that getting away from the nighttime humors of the mistmarsh has had a healthful effect on his circulation. A light rain began to fall as we broke camp this morning, and by the time we made it back to Diamond Lake it was early evening, and we were tired and wet.
On the outskirts of town, a group of half a dozen children were jumping over mud puddles and ducking under the joined arms of two of their number, playing a game we used to call ¡§crossing the river on a rope bridge¡¨ back in the Celadon Forest where I grew up. Instead of the Elvish rhyme we used to sing, though, they were singing something different. I caught a snatch of it:
The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
The worms play knucklebones on your snout.
They eat up your eyes, they eat up your nose,
They eat up the jelly between your toes.
A great big worm with rolling eyes,
Crawls in your stomach and out your eyes.
It shocked me that children would sing such a hideous song, which reminds me of the sight of the spawn of Kyuss we had faced the night before last. Ai! What a horrible image¡Xit troubles me to write about it even now. Allandrin went up to the children and asked where they had learned the rhyme, but of course like all children¡¦s rhymes no one knows the origin¡Xthey just pass down from older brother to younger sister to cousin to friend, and maybe skip a generation until granny tells her daughter¡¦s child. All we can do is guess that this rhyme has been passed down in Diamond Lake and the nearby villages since time immemorial.
As Allandrin was talking to the children, another group of three older boys came up. The biggest, about twelve, looked us up and down, and declared, ¡§Hey, the cutthroats are back in town.¡¨ The other children immediately scattered every which way, not sure if it was a game or we were really to be feared. The cry echoed through the streets, ¡§The cutthroats are back! The cutthroats are back!¡¨ All I could do was sigh. Obviously Dourstone¡¦s gruesome death had been connected to us by the town rumor mill, if not by the authorities. It seems that wherever we go we cannot escape the dubious reputation we have earned for ourselves. I fear my fast-flying arrow is to blame for that, but it cannot be helped now. I only hope that there are no legal complications!
Allustan gave us a warm welcome back to Diamond Lake, and it was a blessing to finally have the luxury of a proper bath and a simple but delicious meal of roast quail stuffed with bulgur wheat and a salad of mixed greens from Allustan¡¦s own garden. After supper, we gave Allustan a full report on our doings, and showed him the worm Marzena had collected. Barbazad retrieved the worm we had confiscated from Filge, and we all looked at the two samples side by side. Both were roughly the same color, but their form was rather different¡Xthe one from Filge¡¦s lab was fatter and had a wide mouth, perhaps a quarter inch in diameter, with a raspy mouth like a lamprey¡¦s. The other was much shorter and thinner, maybe an eighth of an inch in diameter, with a needle-like proboscis for its anterior orifice. Allandrin observed that they look like two distinct kinds of worms, the fat one capable, perhaps of burrowing through skin, at least human skin. The other, Allandrin guessed, must enter through the the soft inner parts of the body¡Xit seems that it might have to be ingested somehow before it can burrow through the mouth or stomach to work its evil work. Since it was collected from the body of a lizardfolk, we surmise that the ¡§needle worm¡¨ uses that method to bypass the thick scaly skin of lizardfolk. It must be passed in food, like a tapeworm.
After looking at the worms, Allaxsim went to the garrison to let Valkus Dunn know we are back and report our deeds and our findings. He returned some time before midnight. On his way there, he had to cross the vein, and there he had a rather unpleasant encounter with Auric, who was drunk. Auric called him ¡§Sir Cutthroat¡¨ in front of a large crowd of onlookers, and I could tell from the way Allaxsim recounted the meeting that he was not at all happy about the insult, and might have arranged a duel with him under other circumstances.
Poor Allaxsim is now saddled with a bunch of reports to write. Captain Trask charged him with writing one to Trask¡¦s superiors in the Greyhawk militia, relating all he observed among the Twisted Branch tribe and his assessment of their capability to work more mischief. Valkus Dunn suggested that Jaikor Demien would want to hear our findings about the worms as soon as possible as well. The good news is that Captain Trask was convinced of Hishka¡¦s good intentions, and sent orders to Trent at Blackwall to restrain him from undertaking any punitive raids.
I don¡¦t think I¡¦ve ever been happier to return to a town than tonight, and though Diamond Lake is a sorry spot, it¡¦s still rather nicer than the Mistmarsh. I would love to see once again the tall ipt trees of my native forest, but I¡¦ll settle for hot baths, good meals, and strolls in Allustan¡¦s garden for the next few days. Lady Ehlonna! I never thought I¡¦d be grateful to see this place again!
Entry for Sunday, 2nd Day of Reaping
Today we rested from our travels and labors, and a welcome day of rest it was. Well, all of us rested except Barbazad, who was consumed with a burning urge to test the strange potions in darkened glass vials that we had recovered from the egg chamber in the Twisted Branch lair. About mid-afternoon he called us down to show us something. He had strained out several of the potions, and lo and behold, he found live worms in them. Green worms with needle-snouts, just like Marzena¡¦s sample. While we were watching, he ran experiments on some of the worms, and found that the needleworms die and decay if left dry. They die when placed in strong liquor or other preservatives, but they stay alive in water or smallbeer. It seems our guess about the needleworms was correct¡Xthey are an insidious way to spread the curse of the worms to unsuspecting people. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it! I don¡¦t know if I¡¦ll ever be able to drink stout beer again, or drink out of a stoneware mug for that matter. What a horrible way to die.
DM notes--we had an excellent roleplay session working over the weregeld issue. It was a chance to develop the character of my DMPCs more and make it clear that they have thoughts and feelings of their own, and aren't just along for the ride. I think it also drove home the idea that there are sometimes unforeseen consequences to one's actions, and that just when you think you've got a problem taken care of, that's exactly when it turns around and bites you in the rear. The weregeld argument and subsequent ceremony also helped to develop the racial character of dwarves and elves in my version of Greyhawk, which I think was a good thing. It's been two months since we had this session, so the conversation is kind of a reconstruction on my part, but it faithfully captures the basic attitudes and positions of the different characters.
My son was suspicious of the potions in darkened glass vials from the get-go. Note to self--If I ever have tainted potions in an adventure again, I've got to pay meticulous attention to describing all potions from the beginning of the campaign, and put some of them in different kinds of containers. The minute I gave a special description for one set of potions it was obvious that they weren't just ordinary treasure. It works out OK, though--Barbazad has lots of ranks in Craft (alchemy). He rolled a 20 on his check to detect the worms while running the experiment, so it was obvious that he must have taken the simple measure of running the potions through a strainer. So now the party has a little more info on the worms. I improvised a little with the worm descriptions, figuring that the "slow worms" ought to be built differently from the regular ones, and that observant characters would notice that.
A thief in the night--riddles and enigmas
Entry for Moonday, 3rd Day of Reaping
Allaxsim¡¦s cry of ¡§stop, thief!¡¨ disturbed my meditations some time during the midnight watch. Sleeping in the room that sits above the entrance to the cellar, where Allustan¡¦s alchemical lab is housed, Allaxsim chanced to waken and hear someone open the door and begin rummaging around. I grabbed my bow and a handful of arrows and ran down the front steps in my nightgown. I was just in time to see Allaxsim grapple the fleeing thief in the street outside the front gate, but she managed to wriggle free of his grasp, fend off the butler¡¦s quarterstaff with her forearm, and flee down the street. I was right on Allustan¡¦s heels running out the front gate, but by the time I had a clear shot and an arrow at the nock, he had uttered an incantation that sent the thief sprawling on the cobblestones. A dweomer of slumber is a rather more effective thief-catcher than Sherriff Cubbin and his boys!
¡§Watch out for the broken glass,¡¨ Allaxsim warned. I looked down and picked my way barefoot through the shards of a glass jar. A green worm writhed on the cobblestones, then melted to brown goo before my eyes. This was no ordinary burglar. Allustan sent the butler for a length of rope and we went to inspect the prisoner. A long, pink rat¡¦s tail poked out from underneath her cloak, and the breeze wafted the faint but distinct odor of brimstone to our nostrils. ¡§Tiefling,¡¨ Allustan observed. We bound her hand and foot, and the butler and Allaxsim carried her to Allustan¡¦s porch, where they dropped her to the flagstones. Her eyes opened, revealing cat-like pupils, and she beared sharp teeth and hissed at us. Definitely a tiefling! If not for the deformities brought by her fiendish blood, she might have been a beautiful woman, with dark hair, olive skin, and a slight slant to her eyes and point to her ears that bespoke a bit of elvish blood. The thought of elvish blood defiled by commingling with fiendish blood was deeply unsettling to me, and I hardly spoke as I watched the proceedings.
Allaxsim quickly threw on tunic, hose, and boots¡Xa shame, for he¡¦s as shapely as a five-point buck in his smallclothes¡Xand set off for the garrison at a trot to report this development. Meanwhile, we interrogated the prisoner. I don¡¦t suppose I looked very imposing in my light summer nightgown, but Barbazad casually performed a couple of ominous-looking tricks with his magic to intimidate her, and Allandrin asked a series of clever questions to pry a few bits of information out of her. She must have been rattled by her unexpected capture, for we managed to get her name, Darsille Yagrax, and the name of the one who sent her, Bozal Zahol, but the rest of her story was rather incoherent¡Xprobably a mixture of truth and lies. From what we could piece together, she seems to have come to Diamond Lake from the Free City to spy on us and report our doings to her boss. She knew enough about what we were up to to try to steal one of the worm samples, and if she had been a bit quieter or Allaxsim hadn¡¦t been sleeping restlessly due to the heat, she might have gotten away with all of them, or at least managed to destroy them. Anyhow, after we got these tidbits of information out of her, she clammed up. She was outfitted like an assassin, with half a dozen daggers and a like number of small darts secreted in various locations, some of them poisoned. Two vials of what we guessed to be poison and a tube of some unidentified powder, a pair of magical scrolls, some cure potions, and a trio of tiny bird-shaped tokens made of feathers, which Allustan said could conjure a messenger pigeon rounded out her equipage. Under her tunic she wore a thin shirt of mithral mail. Whoever this tiefling was, her employer had outfitted her well.
Allaxsim returned after a short time, with several sleepy soldiers in tow and instructions to convey Darsille to the garrison¡¦s dungeon. A safe place for her, I hope.
By the time the prisoner was safely enroute, we were all wide awake, and the cook was baking our morning pastries, so we stayed up to consult. We decided it best to avoid going out by ourselves, and to be wary around town lest another spy or assassin strike. Allaxsim spent most of the morning penning his reports for Captain Trask and Bishop Demien, and Barbazad went to work learning more spells from the Faceless One¡¦s tomes. In the afternoon, Allaxsim and Allandrin went together to deliver the reports to the garrison, and see if Valkus Dunn had managed to wring any more information from the prisoner. He hadn¡¦t.
After supper, we discussed our quest and our situation at length with Allustan. Many mysteries remain, and we are not quite sure where to start pulling to unravel the knot. Where does Ilthane lair, and what precisely is her role in spreading the green worms? Why do the local children know rhymes about the worms? Who is Bozal Zahol and why did he send someone to spy upon us and perhaps worse? Is Balabar Smenk connected to the Ebon Triad beyond profiting by serving as their provisioner? Who is this mysterious figure named Kyuss, mentioned as harbinger of the Age of Worms and originator of the worm-infested zombie spawn that bear his name? We all have a feeling that something terrible is brewing, but all of our questions point to riddles and enigmas we have no way of solving at present. Perhaps a clue will present itself somewhere that will allow us to unknot this puzzle. Perhaps Darsille will spill her guts, or one of Allustan¡¦s draconomicons will reveal Ilthane¡¦s history. So, on the morrow, Allaxsim will begin searching the Land Office archives at the Garrison, while Allustan searches his own collection and Allandrin and I take an outing across the lake to visit the Cairn of the Green Lady. It is said that no one knows the paths of life and death more than Wee Jas¡Xperhaps her disciples guard some of the secrets of the spawn of Kyuss, which blend living worms with dead flesh. A gruesome thought on which to end the day¡¦s entry¡Xmay Ehlonna¡¦s light protect me and Sehanine¡¦s moonbeams illumine me.
DM's commentary--Allaxsim rolled a 20 on his listen check, spoiling other plans I had for Darsille Yagrax after she finished destroying the worm samples. . . Allandrin succeeded on his intimidate check as well, and Bozal Zahol seemed like the best name to drop to wriggle my way out of giving out spoilers, a name that will not ring bells with any NPCs that the PCs might encounter in Greyhawk . . .
A house-gift for Allustan--searching for buried clues in the Temple of the Green Lady
Entry for Godsday, 4th Day of Reaping
This morning after breakfast we presented Allustan with a gift from among the treasures we won below Dourstone Mine, a bejewelled statuette carved of ebony of a nude dagger-wielding dancer. Allustan believes it was made by the Dark Elves. If the tales be true they are a hateful and decadent people, but this piece of their art has a strange, if disturbing, beauty to it. Anyhow, Allustan likes it well enough to place it on his desk next to his inkwell, so it has served its purpose of expressing our gratitude for all the help he has given us, and his hospitality.
After breakfast, Allandrin and I went on an outing across the lake. While Barbazad works learning the spells from the Faceless One¡¦s arcane tomes, and Allaxsim searches the Land Office archive at the Garrison for useful tidbits on the worms, Ilthane, and our other question marks, we are scouring the library of the temple to the ancient Suel goddess of magic and death, Wee Jas, which is housed in an old cairn on the other side of the lake. We took the ferry run by Wee Jas¡¦s disciples, and when we arrived we had to sit through a rather long ritual service conducted in a language I don¡¦t understand. Allandrin recognized it as the ancient Suloise tongue. He does not understand it himself, but the nobility of Urnst are descended from the people who spoke it, and it is still used by priests and mages in Allandrin¡¦s native land. In any event, the service lasted for two hours or so¡XI spent most of that time in a reverie, remembering childhood hours walking through the Celadon Forest, recalling the smells and sights and sounds of the deepest, most beautiful parts of the woods.
After the service, Allandrin managed to convince the High Priestess Amariss of the urgency of our mission, stressing that the Age of Worms prophesied by Grallak Kur threatens the very boundary between Life and Death that is so zealously guarded by the Green Lady. You¡¦d think it would be obvious that the strange worm-infested zombies we¡¦ve been fighting are a threat to people everywhere, but Allandrin had to emphasize how much they threaten the province of Wee Jas before Amariss would let us into their library.
It took us all afternoon and part of the evening, but we found a few useful tidbits of knowledge. In an ancient tome entitled Crossing the Forbidden Boundary: Evil Spirits That Escape the Grave we found an interesting entry on the worm-infested Kyuss zombies. Some of the entry repeats the folklore I learned long ago in my priestly training, but there were a few new discoveries. According to this book, the name Kyuss refers to a being who was once a man, a subject of the Sulm Empire, a mighty imperium of distant antiquity whose memory is barely preserved among Olvenkind and virtually forgotten among humans. Historical records indicate that even in relatively recent times there has existed a cult dedicated to this being, who has apparently ascended to divinity. The book alleges that those who would be priests in this cult undergo a perilous initiation rite in which they must swallow a potion imbued both with Kyuss¡¦s power to inflict wounds and one of the preserved worms we discovered in the potions left by Ilthane. The book also presented another way to fight infection by the worms: certain charms that cure diseases or remove curses can be used on an infected victim to kill the worms in his body, or on a spawn of Kyuss to kill its worms and transform it into an ordinary zombie. A useful bit of knowledge to be sure. Strangely, the entry made no mention at all of the Ebon Triad¡XI¡¦m quite puzzled as to the real connection between Kyuss and the Triad. Aside from this entry, we found very little of relevance except a few entries in the temple annals, which record a number of reported sightings of Kyuss zombies in the Cairn Hills, mostly near the border with the Mistmarsh. Most of the sightings date to the last three years, and include not only spawn created from human corpses, but even one report of a transformed dog! Most of the sightings were near the villages of Undercairn, Marshfast, Star Valley, and Rockhill, and were made by men out hunting near the margins of the Marsh. Margin notes indicate that the High Priestess thought most of the sightings to be the products of over-active peasant imaginations, but she saw fit to have them recorded nonetheless. As for me, I believe the peasants after what I¡¦ve witnessed with my own eyes.
We missed the last boat across the lake, so we¡¦ll have to return in the morning. The lodgings here are spare, but better than sleeping in a mangaroo tree by far.