The wait is killing me...
Considering how poorly this day started I must say I was very pleased with how it ended. Bad luck was followed by near disaster. Things got better but only after they got worse.
We’d scanned the shoreline for as long as we dared. If we needed to attack this monster I wanted it to be in shallow water. If we attacked him and couldn’t finish the job it would make things far, far worse then they already were. Right now Emraag attacked ships out of greed or spite, if we were to invoke his wrath I don’t doubt for a moment he would actively search for ships to destroy, and that could spell disaster for establishing shipping lanes. If we attacked the dragon turtle and he simply dove under the water and escaped it would be terrible . . . but as we scanned the shoreline we didn’t see a beach anywhere. All the water all along the coast seemed to drop off sharply.
“So now what?” James asked. He’d been hesitant to use the Sea Wyvern for this operation, and with good reason, Emraag could have shredded the Wyvern like a child would paper. Thankfully I had the foresight to not risk the ship.
“I guess we move onto plan ‘B’,” I said with a shrug.
“What’s plan ‘B’,” Kale asked, his eyes narrowing.
“That’s where Buffy casts water walk, we put all the treasure into one of the dories, and then you guys walk the boat as close to the shore as possible before using those pipes to summon the beast. I hover somewhere invisibly behind the turtle to launch a surprise attack if diplomacy should fail.”
“That sounds dangerous . . .” Kale muttered.
“Oh no,” I said, “I’ll be perfectly safe. I’ll be way up in the air all invisible and flying. I’d be more worried for you guys.”
“That’s what I . . .” Kale started, but I cut him off.
“Remember Buffy, if that monster dives underwater to try to escape, I’ll need you to dispel that magic so everyone can give chase. I’ll try and haste everyone . . .”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Kale interrupted, “This is the best plan you can come up with?”
“I’ll summon the biggest, meanest, monster imaginable and drop it right behind the thing, the rest of you will charge it. We’ll have surprise and the greedy thug will be surrounded. It’s the best scenario I can manage at this point. Big plans should be kept simple. There’s less change of people screwing up that way.”
“That thing’s a dragon right?” Kale asked, “its’ breath is fire or something?”
“That’s correct,” I said, “Fire or something. if it breaths on you . . . duck.”
“Look Tristan I don’t think you’re putting enough thought into this . . .”
“Our first plan is no longer feasible,” I said, “and yes, I didn’t consult with you when formulating an alternate plan, but what else would you change? There’s going to be danger in any assault on this beast, hopefully Fredrick can negotiate a reasonable settlement, but if not we need to put him down. That’s going to be ugly no matter how we face him. At least this way we can surround him and hopefully put an end to his evil once and for all.”
There was some minor discussion, some of the plans were finalised, details filled in, but my framework remained. Buffy cast water walk and we all moved into position. I felt slightly guilty for taking a far less dangerous share of the action but I’d promised Lavinia not to knowingly place myself in any danger. I felt I’d failed her once (when I promised not to change all those weeks ago), it was a foolish promise, but I felt I couldn’t let her down again.
I watched as Fredrick pulled out those strange pipes and dipped them into the water. The noises he’d made a week ago had been just dreadful but of the eight of us Fredrick was the only one that showed any real talent. Malfus had taken time away from his bar to show Fredrick some simple tunes and he’d practiced diligently the entire trip north. Sadly I didn’t notice any real improvements in his performance. Still the instrument was designed to sound underwater. Perhaps the music would sound better when it was played where it belonged . . .
Fredrick began playing. I thought I could hear the strange murmurings. Bubbles from the horn were the only thing that marred the otherwise calm surface of the bay. Fredrick finished the tune and nothing seemed to happen. He began playing again . . . suddenly a massive wave rocked the life boat and nearly toppled everyone standing on the surface . . . only it wasn’t a wave . . . not to the horizon that suddenly crested the surface of the bay . . . more like a ripple to him . . . the kind you get when you drop a pebble into a pond. It was an island with eyes and teeth . . . and that was just his head. Fredrick had somehow summoned Emraag the Glutton!
My eyes couldn’t process what they were seeing for the longest time. How could something so massive live? Breath? Exist? Emraag was almost as long as the Sea Wyvern, easily as wide, and without a doubt easily weighed just as much. I’d heard stories of Emraag flipping or crushing ships, I’d just had no idea with what ease the beast must have been able to accomplish those feats. I silently flew the length of the beast and hovered somewhere behind him. Even though I was fairly high up, and Fredrick and Kale and the others were some twenty feet away from Emruug, I could barely see my companions over Emruug’s wide broad shell.
I caught snippets of the negotiations, Fredrick did most of the talking and Kale and James assisted, but Emruug’s loud booming voice was perfectly clear.
“Who dares disturb the slumber of Emruug the mighty?” The beast bellowed.
“Hail mighty Emruug,” Fredrick said, “we come to offer you a tribute . . .”
Much of the rest was very difficult to hear. I could guess from his mannerisms and the snippets that did reach me that Fredrick seemed to use flattering words, Kale seemed to interject occasionally, and James didn’t seem to anger the monster any. In fact, seeing as Emruug didn’t immediately attack, I believe that the negotiations were going quite well.
“You have my attention puny mortals,” Emruug rumbled, “I won’t immediately devour you. You may beg for my mercy. I may even grant you a boon if you can prove yourselves worthy.”
I saw the others present Lavinia’s proposal but heard very little of the actual conversation. Emruug’s response was unmistakable thought:
“You have pleased me,” Emruug sort of chortled, “I shall spare you, your ship, and its crew for the duration of one week.”
That wasn’t going to be good enough. The others knew that as well. I could see them tensing up.
“Do not press your luck!” the massive brute snapped as Fredrick tried to negotiate further, “talking bores me, and I get hungry when I’m bored.”
I knew now we’d need to resort to violence. It was a shame really, I didn’t much care for it myself, but sometimes it was necessary. It was the only thing these beasts seemed to understand.
“Very well,” Emruug was saying to Kale, “you may ask me some questions. I will answer if it pleases me,” Kale quickly asked our questions, but the glutton proved to be a less then ideal source of information, “I know nothing of that,” he rumbled, “or that, I know nothing of these Crimson pirates except that they offered an appropriate tribute. No, I know nothing of the Lords of Dread, nor do I care to learn more. They are filthy beasts who only live on the edge of my waters because I can’t stand the smell of them. Killing them would be a chore and eating them unthinkable. I believe the pirates called those water Gallivant Cove, named after the vessel I sunk there years ago, but they live on the other side of the Cove near the three faces in the hills. The entrance to their caves sits far to the south of the Gallivant just east of the cove’s deepest point . . .”
As the directions began spilling out of the massive monster I began summoning. I used an ability I’d been working on and I tried it out for the first time. I managed to complete the spell without any words and thus no sound. A massive multi eyed whale appeared directly behind Emruug. I immediately begin augmenting an orb of cold to accompany my horror.
“Now you’ve outlived your usefulness!” I screamed at turtle as I lobbed my orb towards his broad back, “Your reign of terror ends here!”
My attack landed squarely in the middle of his back. It was impossible to miss. He roared. My multi-eyed killer whale bit into his hind leg turning the water crimson. Kale surged forward, his blade slicing deep into Emruug’s neck showering him in gore! Emruug opened his massive mouth and sprayed scalding hot steam at everyone, and then, much to my surprise, he tried to swim away! He dove under the waves. I’d expected him to flee if things once he felt our wrath but not even I could have foreseen that he’s turn tail this soon! Buffy dismissed her water walk spell so that the other members of the Swords of Sasserine could give chase. I could only watch as the water seemed to boil and churn crimson.
After an eternity of almost twelve seconds Kiki pulled Fredrick to the surface.
“Buffy!” She screamed, Fredrick’s face and shoulders looked fine, but his eyes were rolled back in his head. He wasn’t moving. When his mouth fell open dark black blood just poured out. “Buffy! I think Fredrick is dead!”
I almost screamed as well.
Buffy worked her magic. I was thankful that the true extent of Fredrick’s injuries remained below water. Kiki would later explain how horrid they’d been. Emruug had retreated some thirty feet below the surface and snapped at anyone who had gotten close. Fredrick had just lunged under when he’d nearly been bitten in half! Buffy was truly a powerful cleric though, as capable with her healing arts as I was with my magic, and moments after she plied her arts the colour slowly returned to Fredrick’s cheeks.
Once we knew Fredrick would live we were finally able to savour our victory! Emruug was dead! The swords of Sasserine had dealt with the monster bellow the waves. I felt such pride. My small group had now destroyed two of the greatest monsters on this Island. By the time the Sea Wyvern arrived (Summoned by my signal) we’d pulled the massive corpse from the ocean floor and flipped him onto his back. It was long hard work but we cracked through that tough shell and started salvaging the meat. Perhaps it was a testament to my persistence or a small amount of acceptance on Kale’s part, but not once did he complain about harvesting the meat. Still, when I asked Kiki to fetch me one of his eyes I thought it best not to test Kale’s new found understanding.
It was almost dark when I decided that I should return to Farshore to report to Lavinia. Churtle’s tiny kitchen aboard the Sea Wyvern proved to be far too small to process the quantity of flesh we’d harvested. James’ phanatom crew climbed and hung hundreds of ribbons of flesh from the rigging to dry in the wind and afternoon sun. Mostly they spent the rest of the day scaring off seagulls though. The Sea Wyvern looked like a truly macabre vessel. Thankfully we had plenty of sea salt to properly pack three barrels of meat. That at the very least wouldn’t spoil. But I wanted to save everything we’d harvested. I returned to Farshore with a Haversack full of flesh.
“How did it go,” Lavinia asked when I suddenly appeared in her study. She was unflappable. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Not so well,” I said, “he would only allow us to ply his waters for a week.”
“Then why are you smiling?” she asked.
“I made him another offer.” I said, trying to suppress my grin.
“Another offer? What did you do?”
“Let’s just say I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse,” I said sitting on her desk, “now is your cook awake?”
“I imagine so,” Lavinia said, she was clearly curious, which was good. I liked to see her in suspense once in a while. It wouldn’t do her knowing all the answers all the time.
“Good,” I said, “Because part of the deal included hundreds of pounds of dragon turtle meat. I’ve brought about a hundred pounds worth. I think you should have a banquette for your friends and supporters. Keep your friends close . . . oh, and invite the Meravanchies as well, keep you’re enemies even closer. I think you would do well to remind everyone the sort of heroes you command. Speaking of that, have these rumours started up again?”
“Yes,” Lavinia sighed, “as we predicted, almost the same night the Sea Wyvern left the harbour.”
“Then it’s doubly important to remind them of their place.” I said. I’d hoped that the scare I put into Avner would have been enough but I suspected that there was one more person I’d need to deal with before Lavinia had any peace, “I’m going to drop this mess off in the kitchen. Do you think you could sweet talk your maid into heating some water?”
“I think that can be arranged,” she said with a sly little smile, “you want a bath?”
“Maybe . . .” I said, trying to be coy, “and maybe I’d like someone to wash my hair. You happen to know where I could find someone this hour of the night?”
“Maybe . . .” she said echoing me.
“Ok,” I said hopping down off her desk, “I’m going to dump this stuff off for in the kitchen and then take a brisk walk. It’s hard getting a good walk aboard the Wyvern. Everything should be ready by the time I get back . . . yes?”
“Maybe . . .” she said. For a moment I thought she might stick her tongue out at me. I wasn’t going to get anything meaningful out of her till later. I almost felt giddy at the thought. Still I had work to do and I wouldn’t be able to relax until it was done.
I found the cook in the kitchen. She wasn’t what I’d call pleased when I began emptying my haversack. It was all good thick rosy hunks of meat. Much of it would be wonderful in a stew but a few choice pieces would have made beautiful roasts. Thankfully Lavinia had a kitchen (and a staff) capable of rescuing all that beautiful meat. Unfortunately they’d be at it most of the night. I felt slightly guilty for bringing them all that work and then just leaving but I had other matters to attend to. Besides a true chief should have felt honoured to have been given the opportunity to work with such a rare and unusual delicacy, in a way I was doing her a favour, and in time I’d hope that she’ll look back and remember this moment for the crowning achievement it was.
I walked outside. It was dark, but I didn’t take any chances. I calmly strolled into the darkness, away from the view of Lavinia’s windows, and then used my ring to turn invisible. I activated my boots as I flew over to the Meravanchi house. I slowly peered into each of the windows till I found the one I wanted . . . then, using one of the new spells I’d learned from a scroll I’d bought, I dimension hopped through the wall and into the house. Manthalay always struck me as someone who would work late. I was almost tempted to peer over his shoulder at what he was writing at his desk . . . but that would have been rude. I quietly reached into my Haversack to retrieve the treasure Kiki had so diligently retrieved for me. I quickly and silently flew over to the sideboard and found a suitable location for the prize amongst the whisky and brandy bottles. I set the thing down so it would be staring right at him when he looked up.
Emruug’s eye was only about the size of a human head despite the glutton’s massive bulk.
I discovered Manthalay’s bedroom door open so I decided to fly to a quieter corner of the house before using my magic to escape. I then returned to Lavinia’s as quickly as I could. Seeing Mathalay receive his comeupins was tempting, but the prospect of a relaxing warm bath and a soft warm bed were just too wonderful to pass up.
I was almost to the door when I heard the scream,
Cthulhu dreams
|
<averts eyes from the spoilerific last page>
Hi Guy, I just want to let you know that I'm slowly catching up. So far, I've read up to the fight against the Bar-Lguras.
I see it was as rough for you guys as it was for us. It's cool that you used the Earth Elemental Gem from the first adventure in that fight. :D We never used it, we kept saving it for a really difficult fight, but we ended up waiting for so long that now it's not that useful anymore.
I was jokingly saying we should keep it until the very last fight of the campaign, but the others convinced me to sell it during the last game. :|
Anyway, I really love your journal still. Like several others, I greatly enjoyed Tristan's dreams with her rhyming alter-ego. That was really well-written. Your dialogues are fun to read and give a very dynamic feel to your story. You've inspired me to do the same in my journal.
As I'm going through Here There Be Monsters, I find it especially interesting to see how the adventure was supposed to go "as written", since my group did it in a very different order (and our DM changed many things).
Keep up the good work. :)
Whew! I finally caught up with the author.
Awesome journal! Not sure what else to say except that it's too bad you're almost up to the point where your group went on hiatus. I do hope we get to hear about the rest of the AP from you.
Keep up the good work!
We’ve now spent one day underground. I hope we finish our investigations soon. I don’t want to spend my birthday down here.
We’ve gained so much from the glutton, lots of food, an impressive hoard (including a spell book!), and today we discovered that his directions were spot on! We found the lair of these self styled Lords of Dread with ease thanks to the directions the late dragon turtle gave us. Realistically we would have found this godforsaken hole eventually. It was likely the only pier on this side of the island, but the turtle did save us a number of days of scanning and searching the vast and savage coastline, and for that I thank him.
There were no guards visible on or near the pier but flocks of seagulls swarming near the mouth of the cave and a double row of green glowing skulls that flanked the length of the pier spoke of something lurking within. The skulls proved to be our first obstacle, a horrible sickening stench permeated the area, and my companions were turned back retching. We had suffered far worse odours in our travels, and while my companion’s senses had somehow forgotten the awful aroma of demon stink, but my senses had been permanently scarred . . . either that or my body is changing from the inside out --- much like Hop-Toy’s had. I wonder which it is.
I flew closer to the skulls for a closer look. The green glow was caused by a noxious green flame which was fed by an equally noxious paste like fuel. Knowing what to do once I figured out that the flames were the source of the smell didn’t take a genius: in no time the grisly torches were bobbing in the water and the reek was, more or less, dissipated. Soon my companions (and the dainty delicate noses) joined me on the peer. The great wooden mass was rotten and slimy but still useable. The seagulls told us that there was food or garbage near by. We advanced slowly along the pier till it met the shore, just beyond the mouth of the cave. The gulls scattered at our approach but the other inhabitants of the cave would not be frightened off by our arrival . . .
A large lizard like creature lunged from the shadows! It caught us off guard and there was no mistaking it’s intensions as it bit into Kale. The monster had been hiding near, what we now saw was, some kind of gate or portcullis, and this strange lumpy creature was likely some sort of guard beast. We’d faced larger lizards before, so we weren’t really worried at first, but soon the over grown guard dog was getting support from within the cave. Some humanoid figures, strange lumpy things, began casting spells through the gate. I quickly put an end to that by summoning something behind them! Their screams gave us hints as to what they were: in the poor cave light they almost looked like Bullywugs, but the smell and the draconic screams quickly told me that they were troglodytes.
For a moment there was some worry as a few well planed spells caused us some problems, but neither the troglodytes nor the giant lizard would ultimately prove to be any serious threat. These creatures were no worse than anything we’d faced before and if it weren’t for the creature’s abnormally tough hides (and a couple of early missteps) I’d say that this fight would have been practically routine. One of the monsters tried to flee, to get help or warn the others I suspect, but I sent one of my summons howling down the corridor after him. There were more screams. Then the noises soon stopped.
We cautiously explored the cave. These initial chambers were small. We had expected more in the area beyond the gate. There were small huts, food, supplies, but no complex that seemed to me capable of creating the powerfully complex mystic baubles we’d come to know as the dreaded shadow pearls. For a moment it seemed to that we’d discovered a staging area, perhaps a drop off point for the transport of the pearls, or worse . . . we’d gone to the wrong caves and we’d slaughtered some perfectly . . . well, relatively innocent troglodytes. Thankfully Kale brought something to my attention:
“What do you suppose these are?” Kale asked, showing me some unusual rocks. I handled them carefully. They were black, slightly warm to the touch, and they left my hands with an almost greasy after handling them for some reason. They were quite rough on the one side but I noted that parts of the stoned were perfectly smooth and concave. Something suddenly clicked in my mind. I quickly began searching through the stones, finding pieces with similar edges, and putting together the strange puzzle
“The stone looks valuable,” Kale was saying, “we might be able to sell . . .”
I imagine it was the look of comprehension (or horror) on my face that cased him to stop.
“Ah, now you see,” said the severed head from somewhere within my haversack, “this is how the pearls were transported to the surface. That strange substance is something you mortals call bilestone, the hardened excretions of elder evil Holashner, a solid piece of what would otherwise be known as liquid madness. Don’t worry, in its current state it’s relatively benign, and in such small quantities it should be perfectly safe for you and your friends to handle . . .”
The stones dropped from my hands.
“Careful with those,” Kale said, “they look like jade and I figure each piece might be worth fifty gp or so . . . wait, what is it?”
“They’re bilestone . . .” I said.
“Well whatever,” James said, as he quickly gathered up the dreck that I’d dropped, “it doesn’t really matter, unless bilestone is worth more?”
“They originally coated the pearls,” I said, “and that greasy warmth you feel seeping from the stones is the hint of psychosis. It would be likely the same sensation you’d feel if you could touch the insides of lunatic’s mind when the gurgling and giggling is blessedly paused by sleep . . . or sudden death. In its fluid form it’s known as liquid madness and it’s one of the most caustic and foul substances to be encountered on the prime material plane.”
Kale immediately dropped the piece he was handling. His face becoming stern and his jaw setting, Kale was clearly about to put his foot down about something. James merely shrugged.
“Well I’m sure that means that some collectors will pay more,” James suggested.
“I say we leave this foul stuff here,” Kale said, “I’m not bringing anything that might cause insanity back to civilization.”
“To be fair,” I said, “In its solid form it’s relatively benign, it would take long term exposure to cause any side effects in such small quantities . . .”
No sooner did those words pass my lips then I felt their weight. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. The others clearly made the same connection I did as we all turned to look to the deformed troglodytes.
“Well, maybe we could live without more treasure,” James said, “the ship is pretty full already and these hunks are kind of heavy . . .”
“How do you know these things?” Kale asked, suddenly interested (or perhaps it was concern) in my education.
“Say ‘it’s my business to know these things!” the severed head gleefully suggested.
“No! Say “that information would be wasted on you mammal!”” Hop-Toy prodded.
“Magic wasn’t the only thing I studied at the House of the Dragon,” I said, ignoring my faulty counsel, “there is a multitude of things of which I am an expert on, luckily for us this just happens to be one of them.”
“Do you think this is the black bile they were using?” Kiki asked as she opening one of the many strange bottles we’d found. Inside was a nasty black substance . . . but something told me that it wasn’t the infamous black bile.
“That’s not the black bile,” the thing that called itself Chimpman said, “it’s too thick. Not oily enough. Plus it eats through anything short of glass.”
“No,” I said looking over the strange concoction, “this is something else. Black bile is a ticklish liquid; this is some sort of rub or poultice.” I examined the substance with my monocle, “It is magical. If I were to guess I’d say that this is used to hold off or elevate the side effects of disease. I suspect that the bile is elsewhere. I doubt that anything mortal would dare transport it.”
“So that means the pearls weren’t made here,” Kale said, stating the obvious, “and that means . . .”
We all turned to the lone tunnel. It seemed as though we needed to go further underground. Of the eight of us only Churtle seemed happy of the prospect of exploring underground. She gladly pulled off her goggles and took the lead. The rest of us followed.
I’ve never liked exploring underground. From our first experience under Parrot Island, to the trouble we encountered in the Oman ruins, to the horrors we’d already faced here on the Island of Dread, the underground has always been dangerous. I can’t recall a good moment underground. We needed to find the source of these pearls and unfortunately, for the time being, that meant descending into the lightless depths. Thankfully the path seemed relatively straight, with no forks or deviations, few twists or turns, and no branching tunnels. It was like one long rough uneven corridor.
We soon found the chewed body of the lone troglodyte, he hadn’t gotten far, but the troglodyte’s goal was far, far away. It was many hours later before we found ourselves at the rusty gates of the troglodyte village. It wasn’t the depth I felt we needed to attain. Liquid madness probably wouldn’t be so near the surface; it would lie near the depths of hell, someplace where you could feel the weight of the world overhead and the heat of the burning damned bellow. Still, as we approached the village gate, I couldn’t help but feel slightly optimistic. If these Lords of Dread were the source of the pearls we might very shortly end their threat once and for all.
We did plan our attack carefully but it proved to be unnecessary. The village was small and it offered little resistance. We were outnumbered five to one but most of the poor diseased troglodyte villagers could scarcely move never mind attack us. There were some more troglodyte priests, their spells hampered and even inconvenienced us, but their thick hides and minor magic was no match for our swords and spells. The village was soon conquered with only a token amount of fighting. Clearly these monsters had fallen on hard times. It seems these troglodytes had crippled themselves with their involvement in this diabolical scheme. I almost felt sorry for them.
We took our time searching the village, we needed clues to further our investigation, we’d discovered some cave drawing near the entrance, but we couldn’t make heads or tales of the primitive pictures. We’d hoped to find more of that sort of thing here. We’d hoped to discover how these pearls were being made. There wasn’t anything that useful but we did manage to discover three important clues: in one of the cages, lying amongst the dead troglodyte bodies, was a near catatonic oman warrior. In the other similarly lined cage was an apparently healthy troglodyte. The last clue was the strange statue of the troglodyte god. We moved to help the oman first.
The oman looked horrible. He seemed to be suffering from the same illness these troglodytes had contracted. His skin was dry and lumpy and the strange growths that covered his body almost made him unrecognisable as a human. He also seemed to be suffering the effects of a feeblemind spell. He was scarcely able to move because of the disease. He had the mental capacity of a retarded kitten. Thankfully Buffy had the spells she needed to cure him. She quickly removed his disease and then used her powerful restorative magic to heal his mind as well as his body.
“Where am I?” he asked in his own native language.
“Underground,” I said, stating the obvious. I spoke to him in his own language so he could understand. I think my tongue is near perfect now. “You’re near the northern tip of the island. You were captured by troglodytes.”
“Who are you?” He asked.
“I am Tristan Lidu, and these,” I said gesturing to my friends, “are the Swords of Sasserine, we come from a land that is far, far . . .”
“Yes I know of your lands,” the oman interrupted, “your great priest Noltus told me of your people. You are his followers yes?”
“Um, well, no.” I said
I knew who Noltus Innersol was, the priest Vesserin loved talking about Noltus (in fact I suspected he might have a bit of a man crush on him), but aside from Vesserin, Noltus’ presence on the island was all but non existent. He was a ghost. In the three months we’d spent on the island we’d seen neither hide nor hair of him. The man had arrived in Farshore and then left to explore the interior of the island in search of the lost oman tribes weeks before our arrival.
“Then I must leave you,” the oman said, “I have been tasked with a quest to visit the seven villages and deliver a message to the fledgling town of Farshore . . .”
“Actually,” Fredrick said quickly interrupting, “we call Farshore as our home as well now. We’ll return there after our business here is taken care of. We have a ship. Perhaps we might aid you in . . .”
“No,” he said, looking us over and clearly uncertain with what he saw, “Noltus bade me go myself, I thank you for rescuing me, but I must complete this journey alone.”
“Fair enough,” Fredrick said, “but could we at least have your name?”
“I’m sorry,” the native said, “I feel as though I’ve just woken from one nightmare and into another. My name is Jakara and my home was in the shadow of the dread mountain, we were known as the Tiger Clan, but the demon skin walkers destroyed my village and took my people into captivity. I owe you a debt of gratitude but my debt to Noltus is far greater. I left him to do this mission. Had I not been attacked by skin walkers and their dark magics not clouded my mind I would have accomplished it by now. It was in this mind fog that I encountered and was captured by these troglodytes. I have a mission to fulfil and I’m sorry but I must go, but please look for me in Farshore, I hope that one day I might aide you as you have aided me.”
We bade him goodbye, thankfully our directions were quite simple, but it would be a long and difficult journey. The information he’d given us wasn’t immediately useful but we did intend to deal with these skin walkers eventually. Knowing the sorts of spells they had and how the fought would be quite useful at some point but for now there was little we could do except offer condolences for his village and wish him luck. I would have liked to have helped him further, I was sorry he didn’t take us up on our ship offer, but with all the excitement I didn’t think of teleporting him till hours later. My immediate attention was turned to the troglodyte prisoner.
“Free me and I’ll tell you where the priests keep the treasure,” the smallish troglodyte pleaded. Amazingly he used the common tongue. Save for the demons nothing on this island seemed to speak common. I wondered where he’d picked up the language.
“You mean this stuff?” Kiki asked, revealing the swag she’d pilfered while we were tending to the oman. The surprise and disappointment quickly registered on the troglodyte’s face.
“Please free me,” the troglodyte begged, “I will help you find whatever you are searching for. I am not one of these abominations.”
“Indeed,” I said looking him over, “you’re not afflicted with the same disease the others of your kind are, yet you’re kept as a prisoner, explain!”
“These were my people once but they faltered,” he said, “making a deal with the lords of dread . . .”
“Wait I thought you guys were the lords of Dread,” Kale interrupted, echoing all our thoughts, “you were the ones providing the shadow pearls . . .”
“You know of the shadow pearls,” the troglodyte gasped, “could it be the prophecies are correct? I know where they come from. Deep underground. I can show you. Lead you. The way is long but I know the way and the dangers. You are mighty heroes but even you might not find the Lords of Dread and their hidden base.”
“You still haven’t explained why you are in the cage,” I said, “someone or something these monsters think is dangerous might not be in our best interests to release.”
“They have swayed from the true path of Laogzed,” the troglodyte cried, “they have fallen under the influence of these Lords of Dread. They think that this disease is a blessing but it is a curse. I tried to sway my people but the insanity had gone on for too long, they turned on me, and locked me in this cage with the infected dead. They had hoped to convert me, to infect me, but I hold fast to the old ways. Laogzed protects me. Release me and I’ll lead you to these Lords of Dread, I want them destroyed for what they have done to my people, and I believe you are the ones which the ancients spoke of . . . the ones who will destroy these Lords of Dread once and for all.”
Naturally there was some discussion. One doesn’t take an evil murderous monster like a troglodyte into the group without some discussion. He seemed suitably motivated but that was no guarantee that he wouldn’t betray us. Plus he stank. One must never forget the smell when considering taking troglodytes into a group. But that was a good sign in a way though, part of me wondered if this little fellow was some sort of shape shifter, and the fact that he stank like a troglodyte should told me that his form wasn’t the result of an illusion anyways. I felt there was something odd though.
“What’s your name?” Kale asked as we finished our discussion.
“I am Irgzid,” he said, “Irgzid Uzeye.”
“Welcome aboard Irgzid Uzeye,” Kale said as he opened the cage, but as the troglodyte moved to leave the cage Kale added in a low voice, “don’t ever cross us, you’re under our protection as long as you help us . . . but don’t ever cross us.”
The troglodyte’s eyes opened in surprise but he nodded, silently agreeing to head Kales warning.
The last thing we did in that putrid smelling village was look over the strange alter of Laogzed. I admit I knew nothing about this deity but Buffy saw that there was something wrong almost right away.
“He’s got two heads,” Buffy said scratching her head, “he’s not supposed to have two heads.”
“Demigorgon has two heads . . .” I mumbled. It was a weak link though, for although Demigorgon did in fact have two heads, the resemblance between him and this curious alter was slight or coincidental at best. The statue of the lizard god had a proper head on top of his shoulders and another which was seemingly growing out of its belly.
“Well that could be it,” Buffy mused, “religions don’t change over night. This could be one step away from Laogzed and one step closer to true demon worship. Not that I think there’s much difference.”
It was interesting that Buffy saw some credence to my suspicions but I’ll not confirm the demon princes involvement with these shadow pearls yet. Things were starting to add up though.
Our new guide showed us the route we needed to take. There were three exits out of the village, one which we’d entered, a second which Irgzid assured us led to other, non-infected, non-corrupted troglodyte tribes, and a third route which was accessed by a very rickety looking elevator. We’d had bad luck with mechanical lifts in the past so we all insisted that our guide demonstrate how to operate the thing first. I used my boots of levitation to accompany him down and to ensure there was no funny business. The device proved to be usable. It creaked and screeched when Kale lowered himself but it managed to support his weight. Despite those few tense moments we all managed to get down without any difficulty or harm.
“Now we just have to hope those troglodytes we left in the village don’t cut the cords on us in case we have to come back this way in an emergency,” I said, mainly to myself, but Kiki had clearly over heard me.
“Oh I wouldn’t worry about them . . .” Kiki said nonchalantly.
“Why?” I asked, almost dreading the answer.
“They were helpless,” Kiki said, “and Buffy said they’d all die of the disease anyways. It would seem kind of cruel to just leave them to a long and agonising death don’t you think?”
“So you just . . .”
“I did what needed to be done,” Kiki said with a serious look, one that seemed out of place on her normally cheerful face, “I did what Kale couldn’t do.”
Strangely that didn’t bother me. I felt that maybe it should have . . . but it honestly didn’t. These were creatures that had willingly participated in trying to destroying the world. They got what they deserved. Kiki had perhaps been kinder then the rest of us though . . .
We walked another hour or so (it’s difficult to tell the time out of the sun) before I found a suitable place to camp. My magical house provided the protection we wanted in this unfamiliar pit. We decided to leave Irgzid to sleep outside of the cabin. We didn’t trust him yet . . . and he stunk. We set up watches as usual though. If we were to come under attack in the night we’d need to protect our guide at all costs.
Only the dead should go underground,
Cthulhu dreams
Guy,
Just thought that I would drop a line and say that I was referred to this blog for some good fantasy reading. I have spent almost all my time since Friday afternoon reading the complete 644 posts. I have enjoyed it thoroughly.
The only point of contention I had was the "sense" for "since" (it was driving me nutz) bit and Khartan took care of that before I made it to the end. So now there isn't anything I don't like.
Although now I do feel a little like I have read the first two novels of a trilogy only to find that the author hasn't released the last book.
Anyway, great writing! I have found myself not able to contain my laughter many times. Keep it up, as I don't roleplay on any given schedule and probably won't ever play the STAP so this will be my only exposure to it.
Thanks.
Oops. I had meant 664 posts not 644, but now I guess I mean 666. :)
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OK, I finally read all the way to the end of the raid on Farshore! Very interesting to read... Again, comparing my campaign with yours, it's funny to see how many of the same things happened in a different sequence. And it seems we struggled at different places. In our case, the Yuan-Ti were dealt with quickly and easily, but the Vrocks were almost a TPK. Also, as you saw, we had a much harder time against Vanthus because we almost all failed to save against the fricking Suggestion (I swear, it feels like I'm using a d4 for my saving throws sometimes).
There were 2 things in particular that made me laugh in this last adventure, one was James getting pink swords, and the second was this little scene:
---
“Oh yes, I most probably can,” Churtle said with pride, “I was best Kobold cook in my village for a good reason you know. I didn’t poison almost anyone in my two years making me the greatest chef in our village history.”
“Well that sounds . . .”
“Unfortunately village historian be poisoned three years prior,” Churtle mumbled as she turned to look over the great eel.
---
I'm impressed with all the additional content you've written to introduce Tristan's shift to the alienist powers. The scenes with the rhyming woman and Chimpman (it's really funny to see the names of posters in your logs ;) ) are very interesting, especially since they're not part of the adventure, so as readers we never know what's going to happen next.
I read that you guys use hero points (as when Kiki got eaten by the T-rex). How do they work in your campaign? Have you guys used many of them so far? We use action points, which allow us to reroll the dice to escape a nasty fate (like rerolling a save or asking for a bad guy to reroll his attack, usually used to negate a critical). How many hero points do you get? Do they reset?
Anyway, I'll read some more when we finish the next adventure in my campaign. I really hope you guys start playing again at some point. Do you think there's a reasonable chance it might happen? I would love to read about Tristan and her friends reaching the end of the campaign.
Hi there !
I just came back to this thread after an almost one year break (second kid, upsurge in work, the usual stuff). It was doubly pleasurable, as I read in one sitting what I had missed, and had the nice surprise of reading my pseudo used as the name of a less than virtuous priest of Wee Jas. Oh the warm fuzzy feeling inside… Thanks a lot <giggling like a schoolgirl>.
I beg you, in what hole did Smarnil hide during the pirate attack ? :) (yes, it is a smiley)
I regret having missed the totally out-of-thread discussion about healthcare; I usually can’t resist raving about the French “social security”, which usually drive my American friends nuts… Wouldn’t swap the Canadian healthcare for the two American ones, either (don’t bother answering, anybody, it’s a shameless taunt; just go see Sicko and wait for Obama reforms).
Best wishes for everybody, and stay tuned...
PS: Guy, is that true that you are up to the pont where your gaming group left, and that no more updates will come for a long time ?
PS bis: imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, I started an in-character journal for a campaign we play, your diaries having inflamed my imagination. I have a good time writing it, plus it helps everybody remembering what happened and staying in character.
I think it is the second day underground. There’s no way to tell the time down here. It is always constant night.
Our guide stinks badly. He is dreadfully dull to talk to as well. Also we can’t trust him . . . and of all the character flaws I think the smell tops my list. Being a tedious evil cold blooded monster would be more tolerable in my books if he just didn’t stink so badly. Perhaps some would argue, I’ve obviously found fault with the one thing he is incapable of changing . . . but there it is: he stinks and I don’t trust him. I left him outside of my magical shelter for the night. If something should happen (and by happen I mean should something wander by and eat him) we’d be without a guild but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. I haven’t heard any objections from my companions.
We had a bland breakfast provided by Buffy’s magic and then we began a seemingly never ending journey down. We traveled for a long time. Distance and time is impossible to tell underground. Eventually our guild stopped and signalled for us to do likewise.
“In this room is bad air,” our guide said, “it’s poison, we must hold our breath . . .”
“So we just run through the room?” I asked.
“Yes we holds our breath and . . .”
“This would be a bad place to run into anything,” I said, “I’m going to summon something expendable to scout that tunnel out. We wouldn’t want something blocking our path now would we?”
I summoned a small dog-like creature to ensure the path was clear. It was a wise decision on my part! No sooner did we light up the chamber with one of Buffy’s light stones and send my little monster inside then a great black slab of darkness suddenly lunged forward and seemingly swallowed it whole. It took but a moment for our brains to comprehend what we were seeing.
“What the hell is that?” James shouted.
“One of those acid globs we fought in the Oman ruins,” Kiki shouted, “hit it at range!”
We’d faced something similar when we first came to the island, but this thing was more than twice the size of the ooze we’d faced, and I wasn’t immediately sure we were facing the same monster. We attacked at range (away from the poison gas) and like the pervious one it rapidly began to break apart. The black blobs began moving towards us, the men were forced to draw their blades to protect us, and the creature’s powerful acid hissed away on their weapons as they chopped away at the creature. Then, when the thing was in small enough chunks, I lit the up cave with a fireball. The blast made short work of the smaller pieces. There was a bit of mopping up to do some of the bits survived the blast and fled. Finishing these remnants required only minor magic. Spotting the black ooze in the darkness proved to be the tougher task. Buffy’s light stone hand mysteriously vanished and our other means of light cast long concealing shadows across the room.
Thankfully no one’s weapon was permanently damaged by the acid. I suspect that if our front line hadn’t been using magically enchanted swords that we might have been in a bad way. As is the fight was quick and decisive.
Our guide seemed genuinely surprised at the seeping darkness. I’m unsure of what he would have had to gain by leading us into a trap, especially seeing as he would have been leading, and especially seeing as the monster had no nose and it attacked the first thing to enter the room. I didn’t question him. I still didn’t trust him but this seemed like a genuine surprise. I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
We walked for a while longer, stopped for something to eat, and then we walked some more. Was it noon? Was it sun set? Was it night? There was no way of knowing. Our guide warned of us some more upcoming danger. A strange tactical creature lurked somewhere bellow. The aberration could be reasoned and bargained with, for a price, and the troglodytes had made such a deal, but I was tired and was sick of trying to bargain with monster.
“Wait here,” I said to my companions.
“What are you going to do?” Kale asked, as I dropped a few magically glowing rocks Buffy had enchanted into the strange petrified forest some 400 feet below.
“I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse,” I said turning invisible.
I took flight and dropped some 300 feet in search of my prey. The strange forest proved to be a fine hiding place for the monster as the rock dead trees concealed his trunk like body. I soon spied his squirmy body towards the edge of the shadows though. It had come to investigate the light. I activated my boots so that I could summon something to convey my offer.
A hulking armoured cyclopean horror (the outer realm’s equivalent of a rhinoceros) answered my summons. The beast appeared some 15 feet away and launched itself, horn first, into our adversary. The strange tentacle tree roared in anger and attempted to wrap my beast up with its long stringy arms . . . almost like rope, but my monster was simply too strong. Then I felt something coil about my foot.
I suppose I should have panicked. I didn’t know what this creature was, didn’t know what it was capable of, but I was tired and I was angry. I used my magic to phase some distance away. There I used my superior mental conditioning to fold another summons from the far realm without uttering a word. This time I drew a horror that was familiar to me: the twisted form of a dire boar. Between my two monsters the obstacle was removed. I returned to my companions to give them the all clear. We searched the area for treasure. James and Kiki found all sorts of treasure hidden in that Petrified Forest, from a mundane ivory rod to a mysterious magical cloak. The cloak was my colour and size and so James gave it to me.
After walking a while longer we made camp for the night. There was little conversation. We ate our meal, chewing the tasteless food silently, and many of us turned in early. Hopefully we’ll dream of a blue sky and fields of green. What do creatures born in this drab dark pit dream of? Churtle seemed most at home here but even she had few words. I suspect it’s the kobold way to be constantly vigilant, and although a stone sky was familiar to her, so was the reality of constant threat.
Already I’m bone weary of this place,
Cthulhu Dreams
Welcome back! It's brilliant to be able to read your journal again!
Happy Day! I'd almost given up hope. Sorry to hear about your back, Guy. I hope it stays healed. (Mine's apt to act up every so often if I forget to control my posture. )
Day three. We are still underground. Thank Wee Jas for the mysteries she has provided otherwise I’d go mad with the silence.
The day began with another drab breakfast. I am thankful for these meals Buffy’s god provides us with, but I almost find myself wishing for ship’s rations over this fair. Bad food is preferable over bland food. We then began walking. Again time and distance are nearly impossible to calculate down here. I counted footsteps for a while, calculating that Orlani’s step was on average 29 inches, and she’d need roughly two thousand one hundred and eighty five steps to cover a mile. I gave up counting at an even six thousand six hundred and sixty six.
We walked for a while longer, then we had lunch, and then we walked some more. It was shaping up to be another dull day of travel . . . then we came to the Cerulean Curtain . . . It was in a large chamber, hundreds of feet across, and the strange blue shimmering wall split the chamber almost in half.
“What is that thing?” Kale asked, echoing our thoughts.
“It’s the curtain,” Irgzid, our fetid guide said, “it is ancient magic. The wall keeps the water away.”
“What do you mean ‘keeps the water away?” I asked.
“Down in the deeps was flooded long ago,” Irgzid said, “but there was a war between humans and strange monsters, and the humans created this wall some how. The monsters needed water to live and so the humans killed them all with one cruel move. The water has stayed away and is very rare behind that wall. That is all I know.”
“That sounds monstrous,” Kale muttered looking at the wall.
“Perhaps,” I said, “but sometimes we must make monstrous choices to protect those that we love.”
“So the ends justify the means?” Kale asked. This was the crux of our continued disagreement, and something that was never to be resolved between us.
“No,” I said, “but sometimes morals don’t enter into it. We’d all like to do the right thing when we’re backed into a wall, but sometimes, in the dark, the right answer isn’t so plain. Good or evil don’t matter. It is what it is. Ideals are for priests and paladins.”
“If we don’t do what’s right then . . .” Kale started to counter with his typical rhetoric.
“That’s all well and good for you and I,” I roared drowning him out, “we can defend ourselves, but we’re also talking about a defending those that can’t protect themselves. Don’t ask me Kale what I would do to protect someone I love . . . I don’t think you’d like the answer. You might take comfort in your ideals but I’d take comfort in knowing that my loved ones are safe and that anyone who dares try to harm them are dead and buried. I want the wicked to fear me and I want everyone who would dare lash out at me to know that the price would be far worse then any meagre gain. If that makes me a terrible person Kale Silverthumb then that’s it, out in the open, and at last we know where we stand.”
There was silence for a moment, I turned to wipe the spittle that had inadvertently splashed out in the most passionate part of my argument, but then I caught the sound of whispers. I thought the others were talking amongst themselves as Kale and I butted heads (as usual) but when I turned to them they were all looking to us. Then we heard the whispers again. They were unmistakable, and in oman! I looked towards the wall and caught the form of an oman warrior in full battle garb float across the surface of the wall . . . his mouth open in a silent scream.
“What was that?” James asked, the rest of us stared at the wall dumbfounded.
“That was the wall,” our guide mumbled, “those voices can be heard anywhere on the other side of the wall, it is but a small thing, the voice is tiny and far away, but going through the wall the voices are loud. There is no way to keep them out.”
“What do you mean . . . exactly?” James asked.
“You will see,” said our guide.
Our argument put aside for the time being we approached the wall. As we drew closer the whispers were unmistakeable, I recognised the language as oman, and I could almost make out what they were saying.
“And we need to pass through that?” James was asking.
I took a deep breath and stepped through the Cerulean Curtain.
The voices were all around me, shouting, screaming, and suddenly I felt something inside answering back! It was ancient Suloise, of that I’m almost certain, and the voice was screaming a challenge. I felt something try to seize control. To what end I don’t know. Perhaps it was a primal echo or rallying cry to the ancient oman voices. I felt dizzy, almost nauseous, and for a moment my mind touched something not quite foreign and not quite unknown. I felt as though I was looking at the world through multiple points from some place just behind my own eyes. Like I were a family looking out of the front room window. I forced the rebellious voice (or was it voices) back into the dark corner from which it came.
Then I was on the other side of the wall.
The others followed. They hadn’t noticed my reaction, perhaps I’d given no outward sign of the internal conflict, but it was clear from the conversation that followed my experience was unique. They had heard the Oman voices and nothing else. Had one of my past selves (if I were to believe such a thing) tried to take control?
‘That was strange,’ Hop-Toy muttered, ‘you felt like a different person for a moment there Tristan.’
“That was amusing,” the voice in the haversack mused, “an echo answering an echo. Well almost amusing. I doubt she could have actually taken control. Interesting though, I wonder if you faced a similar adversary in a past incarnation? She seemed quite anxious to heed the rallying cry.”
“What were they saying?” Kale was asking.
“It sounded like ‘two faces watch the tide’ or something like that,” Fredrick said, “maybe something about a ‘biting maw’”
“Much of it was gibberish,” I said, “incomprehensible, but some of it sounded like an ancient warning.”
“Let us keep moving,” our guild said, “we still have a much traveling ahead of us.”
“How much further is it?” Fredrick asked (not for the first time).
“Three days I think,” the troglodyte answered, “Maybe more.”
“You don’t know?” James asked, sounding rather annoyed.
“I have been this far, tomorrow we shall be at the place of the exchange, and I know the tunnels we must take to go the rest of the way,” Irgzid said, “it is not far but it is easy to get lost down here. If you get lost you could spend the rest of your lives wandering these tunnels trying to find your way out.”
“Tell us something useful then,” James prompted.
“There is a village,” the pungent reptile responded after a moment of thought, “not far from here, I will take you there.”
“And what sort of monsters live there?” James asked.
“They are people,” Irgzid sneered, “just like you.”
They obviously weren’t like us, as we were soon to find out, but I suspect that Irgzid couldn’t tell the difference.
Finding this village was trouble. We discovered that the village was hidden behind a devious maze of mould. The ceiling was too low for me to safely fly over the harmful spores. There were boulders and debris which hindered my view. Had I been able to see the far side I would have used my magic to instantly pull us over there. In the end we navigated the maze through trial and error (with plenty of errors in the mix). When we eventually passed through the maze we were greeted with the threatening clack of massive monsters which had great hooks for hands. Behind the guardians stood the walls of the village. Atop the walls we saw the silhouettes of the villagers.
“We come in peace,” Fredrick called out in vain, “we mean you no harm!”
There was no response from the villagers.
The monsters eventually attacked. No one from the village called them off. The fight was pointless bloodshed. The guardians were slaughtered, there really wasn’t another possible outcome, and the seemingly mute villagers that had lined the walls had vanished. We entered the village (the gates weren’t even bared) and found the streets deserted. We soon discovered that the villagers were cowering in their hovels, quite certain that we were there to slaughter them.
“We mean you no harm,” I said, although after the trials and tribulations we’d faced getting to the village I found those words had less conviction. After all the trouble we’d faced I probably meant them a little harm.
Finally a tall misshapen albino creature appeared. He looked vaguely human only slightly wrong in all aspects. His mouth was twisted, his ear was missing, and his eyes weren’t quite on the same level in his slightly misshapen head. He looked like a thing formed by an autistic god who’d never seen the colour of the surface world.
“Greetings travelers,” the thing said with a remarkably clear and beautiful voice, “my name is Vertram, and I am headman of these people. We’re sorry for the trouble our traps and guardians must have caused you but every year these caves become much more dangerous. We mean you no harm, please put away your weapons, and please be welcome in Barbas.”
“Hello Vertram,” Kale said, “we come in peace, and we’re sorry for killing your guardians but we called repeatedly for you to call them off to no avail. We would like to spend the night in your village.”
“Yes, please spend the night,” the albino said, then he turned to his village and called out, “people it is safe, please come forth and make our guests welcome! We shall have a feast in your honour.”
Then we discovered that Vertram was easily the most human looking creature in the town. The streets quickly filled with a menagerie of misshapen monster men. Some looked almost like lizardmen (only not), others looked almost like bulywugs (only not), others had fur, and some even had feathers. All seemed horribly misshapen. Most didn’t even have body parts that matched, and yet they seemed friendly, as if they had never felt the sting of human cruelty that their looks would surely garner on the surface.
Remarkably all seemed gifted with lovely speaking voices . . . but more then that! They all were capable of imitating any voice that heard. This came as a shock to us, but it came naturally to them, and as the children and people of Barbas began to socialize with members of our group they suddenly began emulating their voice! The villagers seemed to do this out of respect and admiration, like our culture likes to bow and shake hands, but it was still very unsettling. I found myself affronted on all sides by Kale’s aggressive voice. A young boy ran by perfectly emulating Orlani’s laugh followed by a young girl masterfully matching James’ curse of surprise.
The feast they provided proved to be a meagre thing. There was Fungus and lichen, slime that had been scrapped from the walls, strange bugs, meat that was dried and rubbery, and water. Our hosts acted as if they had put forth a great banquet and it would seem rude to turn up our noses at the food laid out for us. We accepted and sampled with forced smiles. I must say it had more flavour then the sustenance Buffy’s god provided us. I am yet unsure if that is a good or a bad thing.
After Supper we told stories. These mongrel folk are great story tellers. If I were to close my eyes I could imagine myself back in the Sasserine Opera House listening to some famous orator reciting “Sasserine and Teraknian”. Vertram told us the tale of his people, how they were the decedents of slaves and Oman warriors lost in the Great War, forced together for mutual protection, and against all odds surviving even though the world around them had disintegrated. He spoke of a great evil, some sort of demon fish that controlled people’s minds, and of ancient Oman magic that drove out the water. They couldn’t tell us anything about our destination or these demon fish though. Their description didn’t match any demon I could think of, though, admittedly the planes are vast and there are many, many different forms of demons.
The people were naturally curious about the surface world, about us, and our journeys. Fredrick told them of our adventures and our lives. Vertram grew quiet as we told our stories and after we’d finished our tails he looked to us and spoke.
“I have had dreams as of late,” he said, “many are nightmares, fuelled by all these renewed dangers we faced no doubt. Things are far worse now then anything in even our most ancient tales. The troglodyte tribes have laid siege to our village, have made hunting impossible, and it’s only our defences that have saved my people from being carried off. Also I feel there is something evil stirring below, these lords of dread you speak of are likely far below in the ancient city our ancestors fled from. However recently I have seen that soon people from the land of light will come and destroy this evil and end our exile here in the lands of darkness.”
Vertram would say no more on the subject, not even to say if we were the people from his dreams, but it was clear from the look on his face that he thought that we were.
Tomorrow I’ll teleport back to Farshore,
Cthulhu dreams
Another excellent journal entry. Out of interest, how far are you in the Savage Tide now?
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OK, I finally caught up in my reading!
It's interesting that you guys decided to fight Emraag. We discussed this among our group as well. But we weren't sure we could take him on.
I'll try not to metagame too much now that I know for sure that he's killable by a group of our level. ;)
I'm looking forward to reading the rest of your story! I hope you get the chance to post again soon. :)
I'm very curious to see how the adventure went for your group... Especially how you handled the Tear...
Please excuse my hand writing. This is my first time attempting this. Tristan has too much on her mind to write and I believe she will want someone to record the last few days. This means that I, Hop-Toy Dan, greatest of all amphibians, will attempt to record the major events of the last few days. This quill is almost as big as I am though and I fear that writing may be tiring work.
After Tristan’s last entry the oddly shaped humanoids talked with Tristan and the others at great length. The details of this exchange are of little significance save for the fact that the leader, the albino, believed that these events had been revealed to him in a dream. He would need to move his people away. Tristan saw this as an opportunity. The gem mines near the village could be bolstered with the people of this village.
Tristan used this as an opportunity to see Lavinia. Her silly warm-blooded brain began making excuses even before we made it into her offices though, and instead of staying and visiting, she suddenly needed to return to the ship. I told her she was too rash for all the good it did. Instead of staying with Lavinia she slept in her cabin with only me for company. I don’t think humans are good at being alone. Tristan has managed well enough these last few years but lately she’s struggled. She spent far too long talking to the fetish.
I believe the thing is useful for her. It is a good tool and it has taught her much but she spends far too much time talking with it. Acting as though it were actually flesh and blood. She must know that the entity only pretends to inhabit the fetish. Her mind is the conduit this entity uses to project itself across time and space. Tristan knows this. For some reason she continues to pretend.
Early the next morning Tristan and I rejoined her companions. Tristan told the Albino that his people were welcome at the village. The ship would return home and it would take the strange humanoids with it. The albino thanked Tristan and the others. Then he led them to a great stone in a place which he called the Cavern of the Sleeping God. He said the great stone was a demon fish and that it was still alive. We didn’t think it was possible but Buffy examined it and she confirmed what the albino said. Then Tristan and Kale spoke and for once the mammal agreed with Tristan! Every demon fish they encountered would be destroyed. Starting with the one before us, naturally.
Inside the stone shell was the gurgling flesh of a living creature. Tristan was at a loss to explain the thing. Nothing we’d ever read or encountered was anything like this. Tristan decided that she’d need to research these creatures when we returned to Sasserine.
Little of consequence occurred on our continuing trip downward. We were attacked by a strange floating eye creature with some sort of powerful anti-magic eye. It had other eyes, with other powers, but save for the weak willed Fredrick none of us fell victim to any of its abilities.
Towards the end of the day our troglodyte guide seemed to get very fidgety. He was more mammal or lizard then amphibian so I couldn’t tell what was bothering him but as we approached a great underground temple he ran forward calling to something he called “father”. A ghostly troglodyte appeared, seemingly in response.
Something didn’t seem right about the situation. Tristan best summed it up by saying “The ghost knew too much.” Tristan was even sceptical that it was actually a ghost. What it really was we couldn’t determine. Tristan’s attempts to dispel magic were laughable at best. If Fredrick had taken up spell casting its doubtable Tristan could have dismissed his pathetic magic. She also failed to see any sign of illusion. Unsatisfied with the ‘ghost’s’ story but unable to figure out what the creature really was Tristan had a great deal of difficulty convincing the others to abandon the plan to destroy the ‘Tlaloc Tear’ the entity told us about. Strangely it was the mammal that saw reason and agreed that destroying the tear would be a last resort.
Tristan was quite agitated after that encounter. She felt there was something she had missed. She acted as though she had an itch she just couldn’t quite scratch somewhere in her mind and most of my attempts to calm her were rebuked very curtly. I had half a notion to let her fret. Still, this needless obsessing was not good for her, so I distracted her by talking about Lavinia. This made her very cross but as usual it did the trick. Tristan’s mind wondered . . . for a time.
It was sometime after we’d gone to bed when I felt the snap.
Tristan lay awake pretending to sleep. I have no idea who she thought she was fooling but I felt her mind going at a dizzying pace. It was impossible to catalogue it all but I picked up glimpses here and there. At first she was still obsessing about the earlier encounter. Then she started dissecting the images she’d seen in her dreams. At this point things moved faster and faster. She recalled religious readings. She tried to rationalize her thoughts of Lavinia. She ran through her interpretations of the Necronomicon. She recalled her conversations with the fetish. She ran through dozens of other bits and ends. Thoughts flashed across her conscious far to fast for me to comprehend.
Tristan’s mind is far more powerful then mine. She can analyze multiple things at once. I struggle sometimes just following one of her thoughts. In the darkness she was completely alone with her mind. She flashed through volumes upon volumes of information in the blink of an eye. To Tristan they weren’t volumes though, they were pieces, and it slowly dawned on me that she was attempting to assemble an unimaginable and monstrous jigsaw. I couldn’t even begin to understand what or why. I believe her need was something akin to the human condition. Tristan often explained to me that humans need to know why.
“Why what?” I’d asked. I was confused.
“Why anything,” she’d replied. I felt she couldn’t explain it. It was something beyond her grasp. But it was something she needed to know.
As my mind raced back to that moment I felt the snap. Tristan had assembled her Jigsaw. I caught a glimpse of something incredible. It was impossible for me to comprehend. But it was incredible. I felt an amazing calm wash over Tristan. Then, in the darkness, I saw that vacant smile creep onto her face. In a heartbeat Tristan faded into sleep.
When she woke she did so with that smile.
“Everything makes sense now Hop-Toy,” she said. Answering the question I never asked.
The others didn’t notice Tristan’s change. I suspect that it was too subtle for them. They could only judge by what they saw. I had the advantage of feeling Tristan’s mind. I felt a calm radiating from her that I’d never felt before. It felt strange at first. This was an emotion that I often tried to instil in her but one that was usually quite alien. The change was truly in her head. I felt a fundamental change in the way her mind worked. Her mind usually frothed like rapids, boiling and churning with a thousand different thoughts, now her mind seemed to flow like a great raging river: smooth and straight but there was a powerful undertow. Neither river was safe for toads.
The other change that I noted was that she was strangely quiet. Tristan has always had trouble keeping her voice inside her head. As long as I’d known her the thoughts and ideas that bubbled near the surface would often spill out of her mouth. Normally she mumbled. She was audible but usually incomprehensible. Now she was completely silent. This is what bothered me the most. Tucked away in her pocket or sitting on her shoulder I found her voice quite comforting. Indeed it was the only life I can recall now. My mind has expanded far past the capacity of others of my kind thanks to bond with Tristan. The calm, though strange, was serviceable but the silence was bothersome.
I realise that her mumbling was not normal for humans or even for most humanoids. It cased her grief not being able to control her own voice. Sometimes she’d speculate that her lack of friends was due to this strange quirk. I suspect that part of the reason others kept their distance was due to her exceptional abilities. She was always top student in her class, almost always the smartest person in the room, and her incredible work ethic led her to graduate years ahead of her contemporaries. Approaching such a mind would be intimidating.
I suspect that her inability to connect with others probably has more to do with her absent father and emotionally distant mother. Tristan certainly feels self conscious about her muttering and worries about how others perceive her. But I suspect that her lonely childhood that made her an introvert and left her unable to express love. Still, in theory, her quieter persona could make her more socially acceptable.
As for the rest of our journey I have very little else to tell. Before we stopped traveling for the night we came across some more of the semi-petrified devil fishes. Tristan and the mammal would eventually see that they were destroyed but first they needed to deal with some bugs. The cavern was infested with some really nasty insects. They were much larger versions of insects that we first uncounted in Sasserine. They were tenacious and likely ravenous. Only Tristan, our troglodyte guide, and I escaped un-bloodied.
Tristan didn’t seem in the mood for writing. She seemed intent on exploring her new mind. I took up the task of recording our exploits for her. And it proved to be a monumental task. The quill Tristan uses was like the sword the mammal uses in my hands. It’s not very heavy but it is awkward. Tristan’s journal on the other hand weighs more then I do. Pulling it out of her haversack and opening the blasted thing was the hardest part of this ordeal. I believe Tristan will resume writing tomorrow thankfully.
How she writes so much is a mystery. I have recorded three days in less then Tristan can write about one.
Hop-Toy Dan
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Worst of all, this "ghost's" story didn't even make sense. How could the ghost of a troglodyte, supposedly killed in that chamber, know anything about a city he or his people could never have seen? There was a suggestion that he had overheard Koprus talking in the chamber. Suggesting that these evil geniuses who were behind this evil plot decided to casually discuss their weaknesses in this large chamber miles and miles from home. At this point in the story Tristan was highly skeptical.
Indeed... I didn't believe that story either. It was just TOO convenient for the aboleth. ;)
It must've been frustrating to miss all those rolls. We weren't sure exactly what was going on (just that we could not trust this guy), until Ulfgar noticed something in the pool...It's terrible that you had to scrap 8 pages of logs!!! ouch!!!
I don't know how fast you write, but in my case, I write about 3 pages per hour... so that's almost 3 hours down the drain... :(
Are you playing another campaign at the moment?
Just caught up again. Looking forward to more installements, even if they only go through CoBI.
I, too, am mainly doing PbP these days, DMing a campaign of my own devising, and playing in two others. PbP can be a lot of fun--I had a blast DMing a Red Hand of Doom campaign, and am enjoying DMing a campaign set in Greyhawk--of my own advising but using quite a bit of Paizo and WotC material. The games I'm a player in are pretty slow, though--I love the characters, but progress is slow.
Golismorga was horror. It was a wonder. Built of undying flesh and bathed in that unholy violet light, Golismorga should have seemed alien and monstrous to my eyes, but yet it felt strangely familiar.
We explored the perimeter. Finding Golismorga was only the first step, dealing with these lords of dread was the next step, and hopefully that would stop the shadow pearls. We needed information. We needed to know who we were fighting.
Those violet lights lit the entire cavern, but on the ground, in the tangled of the city, the shadows were deep and dark. My companions quickly grew uneasy. It was Fredrick who first realised that the buildings were still alive.
“By Norbo!” He gasped. “They’re moving.”
“What’s moving?” Kale asked, carefully scanning the shadows.
“The buildings,” Fredrick whispered, “they’re alive.”
The violet glow was hardly a reliable light source, it sort of undulated on those great pillars, and so the shadows all vibrated and danced but even without looking I knew the buildings were alive. I could just sense it. Still, the others grew nervous, and Buffy stepped towards the buildings. Natural light had probably never fallen on those structures ever in their existence and perhaps, if they were sentient, were confused and mystified. The structures lay still and didn’t move. But then Buffy’s light fell on a fleshy oblong bag that was twice as large as a man, it seemed to twitch, and then it suddenly filled with air like a lung. We all backed away revolted.
The illusion was shattered. We were now suddenly aware of all sorts of movements. The others seemed to move closer together now. A living city seemed to worry them.
There was little on the perimeter, there were more caverns to explore, but I doubted that we’d ever return here once our task was complete. I marked these tunnels with some chalk and we continued on our way.
We practically stumbled across Tlaloc’s Tear after about half an hour’s walk. Churtle spotted a strange crater. The structures around it seemed pulverized. We cautiously circled the crater, expecting all sorts of opposition, but we found no guards. The tear turned out to be a giant stone carving of a lizard’s head that shimmered with mystic energy. It looked like ancient Oman in design and craftsmanship. Buffy said it resembled the Oman god Tlaloc. I was tempted to get closer to examine the thing but we spied strange mold and fungi, the crater was also very steep, and although neither of these things would have hindered me, I didn’t think it wise to separate the party. Perhaps I will take some time to look it over once we locate these lords of dread. We pressed on.
We passed close to one of the great violet pillars. They radiated intense cold. Both Kiki and Kale got violently ill as we approached. Kiki had been scouting for us and Kale got violently ill as he neared her. There was clearly an aura. I had theories. The head would need to be questioned later.
It was well into our second hour before we stumbled across our adversaries. The Koprus seemed as surprised as we were to stumble into each other. I had suspected that we wouldn’t find the korprus on land but the vile aberrations had troglodyte slaves and were being carried about in litters. The korprus probably hadn’t to find anything in their patrols. I suspect that they’d probably been down here for months if not years. We were likely the first sentient living creatures they’d stumbled across.
“Take one alive if we can,” I said, “but don’t let any escape!”
I hadn’t said anything that the others didn’t already know. Intelligence was of the utmost importance now. The fight was short but sweet. It would have been shorter still had Kale’s weak mind not briefly fallen under korpru control. In the end we managed to take both a korpru and a troglodyte.
We questioned both. Neither shared much information. The korpru did tell us that we were all going to die horribly. We didn’t ask for him to elaborate.
“Now what?” Kale asked.
“Let me take care of it,” Fredrick said, dragging the korpru off behind one of the buildings. A short time later he returned cleaning his sword, the rope coiled about his shoulder.
“You didn’t,” Kale gasped.
“I didn’t,” Fredrick calmly answered, “I tried to let him go but I suspect he thought I was going to do something else. He’s dead either way.”
“This one cannot be saved,” Irgzid, our troglodyte guide said. He’d been trying in vain to convert the troglodyte hostage, “I cannot talk sense into him. His mind has been twisted by the korpru. If we release him he will return to them and warn them.”
“Let me take care . . .” Fredrick started.
“Oh no,” Kale said, cutting Fredrick off, “they’ll soon know about us anyways, and one troglodyte isn’t going to give us any problems.”
“There are many more though,” Irgzed said, “a hundred troglodytes. Forty small korpru, twenty big korpru, and almost as many spell snakes . . .”
“Keep in mind,” I added, “that troglodytes can’t count.”
“Still it would be best if I sacrificed this one to Laogzed so that his soul may return to his people.”
“Yes,” Kale said rolling his eyes, “as if that’s going to happen. Listen Irgzed, we appreciate the help getting us down here, everything you’ve done thus far has been wonderful, but now that we’re here I think it’s time for us to part ways. I believe you can find the way out? There’s got to be another tribe that you can join.”
“Yes, I know of such a tribe,” the foul smelling guide said, “I will go to them. I wish you luck in your mission. Remember, destroy the tear and it will end the tyranny of the korpru by bringing back the waters.”
With that he turned and left.
“Maybe we should do as he says,” Fredrick mused.
“Oh yes,” I said, “bringing back the waters would certainly put an end to the korpru . . . oh wait, the korpru live under water, so no, no it wouldn’t!”
“But the demon fish?” Fredrick prompted.
“And that would be an improvement how?” I asked.
“I agree with Tristan,” Kale said turning to Fredrick, “there are no easy solutions here, but we’ll destroy the tear if it comes to it.”
“Only as a last resort,” I said agreeing with what we’d decided earlier.
“Yes only as a last resort,” Kale nodded.
We left the troglodyte bound and gagged next to one of the buildings. A place where we hoped he wouldn’t be discovered for a long time. Then we resumed our explorations. We edged along the cavern wall. We found a great ravine. We edged along it. Then we came across another pillar of violet flame. We carefully skirted it.
The silence was overwhelming. Not that the cavern was quiet, there were all sorts of ambient noises and even chattering and howls, the noises one might find in an asylum, but there was nothing that suggested intelligent life. Most of the noises we knew were being made by the buildings themselves, some vibrated and hummed of their own accord, and one even let out a scream when we got too close, but as worrisome as the experience was we found no hints of intelligence. Things here were living but mindless. None of the sounds we heard had any shape to them. That is until we drew near the pyramid.
The pyramid looked out of place amongst the other alien structures. It was solid non organic stone. It would haven taken years to construct. Cruel Korpru task masters ordered about dozens of troglodyte slaves. There didn’t seem to be hundreds of them but there were enough. We caught sight of a few nagas as well. There was little here individually here that would give us pause but the numbers seemed daunting. We crept away to discuss the situation.
“We can’t possibly defeat that number,” Fredrick said, “let’s just destroy the tear and be done with this place.”
“Not in one fight,” I said, “not all at once. But we can easily grind them down.”
“But the tear is just right over there,” Fredrick whined, “and it’s unguarded.”
“We can’t leave anything that could come back to haunt us later,” Kale said, “you’re talking about a quick fix, if this place floods and these demon fish take over, who’s to say they won’t take up shadow pearl production later? I mean who’s to say that the korprus will loose? Right now there’s no water and that means our enemies are at the disadvantage.”
That was remarkably well thought out. I was surprised.
“Let’s not forget the several tons of water that could come flooding into this place,” I said, “I mean even without having studied engineering you must realize that water is pretty heavy. When we take down that magic barrier there’s no guaranteeing that this city won’t be crushed like a grape. Also I want to get in there and look things over. I want to see if there’s any to be learned. That would be hard to do if this place is underwater.”
“What are you thinking?” James asked.
“We need to do a bit more scouting,” I mused, “find a good ambush spot. Find a good rendezvous point. I fly over the hornet nest and poke at it with a fireball. When they swarm we jump some of them, then retreat to the rendezvous point and we teleport back to Farshore.”
“Okay,” Fredrick mused, “that’ll get them mad, what’s the next part of the plan?”
“We rest up in Farshore and do it again tomorrow,” I said, “then again, and again. Then when we’ve softened them up enough we take the pyramid itself. This way we’ve not only eliminated the Korpru but prevented the demon fish from returning.”
There was a bit of grumbling. The idea of returning to Farshore today was appealing but the prospect of returning to this city tomorrow was repugnant. We moved into the city. We cautiously circled the pyramid. Finding a good spot for an ambush proved to be a mind numbingly simple task. The city wasn’t built with bipedal locomotion in mind. There was an abundance of choke points, blind alleys, and lots of irregular shapes to hide behind. An ambush would be easy no matter where we placed it. I let the men folk plan that. They seemed to enjoy that sort of thing.
Our rendezvous spot was picked for us by fate. As we snaked our way westward through the city, away from the korpru pyramid, one of the flesh formed buildings collapsed upon us. There was virtually no time to react. I heard the creaking sound and before I could turn my head to see the source of the sounds I was buried in flesh formed resin. I was able to phase my way out. It had caught us all, and I was the only one who had been able to escape under my own power. I summoned a great gorilla like monster to dig up the party. Thankfully we quickly found James and Kale and they set to work digging out the others. Orlani was last to be pulled from the rubble. We had a few scrapes and bruises but we also had a surplus of potions, wands, and items that quickly healed our wounds. Whatever had caused the avalanche hadn’t been triggered by Korpru explorations. This seemed as good a spot as any to regroup at. We put out plan into action.
Flying through Golismorga felt natural. The city was designed for swimming and flying was the next best thing. It wasn’t a complete experience: buildings sagged, tilted, and listed onto their sides. Had the cavern been filled with water these shapes would have stood erect, perhaps even danced with the current, but now everything lay flat . . . the living buildings struggling to breathe. Soon the pyramid was a small shadowy box below me. Troglodytes swarmed like ants. The Korpru and the larger Korpru lay about directing their minions. The Nagas slithered about like silver fish. I waited a moment watching the activities below me wondering if my companions had gotten into position flew into range and made the bugs scatter.
I was well out of the range of retaliation but quickly turned invisible as I returned to the others. I’d traveled north before activating my ring and I hooked back to the west once out of sight. I wanted to mislead our opponents. I surmised that a large force would hunt for me to the north while smaller groups would fan out throughout the city in an attempt to circle me.
I rejoined the others. In the distance we could hear the pandemonium my attack caused. We sat on edge but the retaliation was slow to come though. I sat beside Churtle calmly waiting for the on coming onslaught. She seemed on edge and I felt so calm. Strange.
“There bes a lots of them,” Churtle finally whispered, her sharp kobold eyes could see into the shadows, “more then before. Do we runs?”
I contemplated that for a while. There were sixteen troglodytes, eight korpru, four of the behemoths, and two nagas. Not a serious threat if it weren’t for the korpru’s mind control. The men seemed a weak willed lot, too quick to fall under control. While I was certain we could handle the monsters I wasn’t as sure about dealing with rogue party members. I knew first hand how much damage Kale could do.
“Let’s waste them,” I muttered, a summons coming to my lips, “take down the korprus first.”
The fight went well to begin with. My summons ripped into the heart of mass, pulling the korprus from their litters. Kiki, Kale, James, and Orlani softened our opponents at range, but then the Troglodytes charged in and the behemoths drank some potions and took to the air! The fight had turned into melee and while the troglodytes didn’t prove to be a serious threat if gave the korpru’s time to work their evil. Orlani suddenly turned on James.
“What the deuce!” James shouted as Orlani sliced open his back, “Orlani snap out of it!”
“Take out the troglodytes,” I commanded, meaning the monsters that had surrounded James, “then deal with Orlani!”
“Relax,” James said with that cooked smile of his, “I got it under control.”
I knew something horrible was about to happen but was powerless to stop it. James lunged at Orlani looking to grapple her and pull her to the ground but Orlani’s reactions were far better then James anticipated. Orlani raised her pistol (which had a bayonet on it) and jammed it into the hollow between James’ neck and shoulder. James staggered back but lunged again this time Orlani lifted her sword and opened up James’ arm all the way to the bicep before swinging it across his face. Bloodied and beaten a wise man would have cut his losses. James lunged a final time. Orlani side stepped his attack and drove her sword into into is back. James was down.
To my left Kale was enveloped by one of the massive Korpru. Fredrick already struggled in a tangle of tentacles. Buffy was desperately trying to fight her way to James. Kiki backtracked trying to get room to fire her crossbow. And Churtle fought to keep the troglodytes from finishing off our fallen companion. Things looked bleak. But just as quickly the battle turned again, Kiki fired a bolt through the head of the korpru that controlled Orlani, Churtle dropped the last of the troglodytes, Orlani lunged into the massive Korpru that held Fredrick . . . her blade finding its heart, and Buffy managed to heal James to bring him back into the fight. My summons had taken out the smaller korpru and now turned on the larger monsters. Although not highly effective as attackers they proved to be deadly flankers. The battle ended with no quarter given.
Our fight was far from precision though. There had been a lot of noise. Large dark silhouettes flew towards us. Luckily I had a new spell for just such an occasion. I enveloped our attackers in a solid acid fog. It wouldn’t kill them but we’d be long gone by the time they escaped. I formed a group and teleported back to Farshore. Buffy joined us in Farshore moments later with the remainder. We were bloodied but not beaten and we’d dealt a blow to the Korpru.
We joined Lavinia for supper. Tomorrow we’d strike again,
Cthulhu dreams
I loved reading the discussion about which is worse: the kopru or the fish (aboleths). My party had the same discussion, and I can't wait to find out what you all did with the Tear!