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My previous blessing works fine, because I didn't find any typo...
OK, whew, because she kept pressing the Control key WHILE I was typing, which had many strange side-effects. It allowed me to discover a lot of functionality of Microsoft Word I did not know about.
Great story, but your DM seems to get lazy, or too nice. I mean, how many NPC's can pop up out of the walls with detailed information on Scuttlecove in a single session? Keep the story moving forward at a quick pace though.
Hehe, I guess that Grass was taken right from the adventure?
I like the way our DM put a lot for us to do in Scuttlecove, with various people we know all being there.However, one thing I didn't like about this game, and something I don't like in RPGs in general, is when your "reward" for finishing an adventure is that something terrible happens, even though you did everything 100% correctly. Especially in this case, since Vanthus is back from the grave (new and improved), it basically means that everything we did in BOTH adventures 5 and 7 seems to be meaningless. I find that very demotivating, because you feel like you're stuck in quicksand, and the more you try to be heroic, the deeper trouble you get into.
And another thing I don't like in RPG's, as a heavy role-player, is when you're punished for being a good role-player by having the NPC's you painstakingly developed a relationship with being annihilated, whereas more "hack-and-slash" members of the group (or worse, those who haven't even been present at the gaming table in over a year) come out of the even totally unscathed.
i.e. Sparkie is lucky that Chochanika happened to be at home that day.
Waiting for Belessa's reaction to the last "betrayal"...
Do you mean the ambush with the Succubus? I think Belessa is going to be very unimpressed with Harliss, since it means adding one more person to the long list of people whose asses we need to save. ;)
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Ah, the Red Foam Whaling ambush - nasty stuff, those death attacks!
Great story - thanks for taking the time! :)
Thanks a lot! Yes, those death attacks were nasty. Lagaan rolled a natural 1 for his fortitude save and we were afraid he was going to die on the FIRST ROUND of the first real fight of the adventure (...) until I mentioned that Uncanny Dodge should protect him from that.
Hehe, I guess that Grass was taken right from the adventure?
I like the way our DM put a lot for us to do in Scuttlecove, with various people we know all being there.
Indeed! He went the extra mile to make sure you would all be very concerned about Scuttlecove. He placed quite a lot of arrows pointing this way...
However, one thing I didn't like about this game, and something I don't like in RPGs in general, is when your "reward" for finishing an adventure is that something terrible happens, even though you did everything 100% correctly. Especially in this case, since Vanthus is back from the grave (new and improved), it basically means that everything we did in BOTH adventures 5 and 7 seems to be meaningless. I find that very demotivating, because you feel like you're stuck in quicksand, and the more you try to be heroic, the deeper trouble you get into.
And another thing I don't like in RPG's, as a heavy role-player, is when you're punished for being a good role-player by having the NPC's you painstakingly developed a relationship with being annihilated, whereas more "hack-and-slash" members of the group (or worse, those who haven't even been present at the gaming table in over a year) come out of the even totally unscathed.
i.e. Sparkie is lucky that Chochanika happened to be at home that day.
Quite true... 'Hack and slash' types don't leave the DM a lot of handles to work with in the first place. I do understand your hurt feelings: maybe your DM could have abstained from pulling ALL your handles at once; it was quite an overkill (of course, it's easy to say in hindsight from behind my keyboard, and more difficult to do in the heat of play; motivating and challenging the players without disheartening them is more an art than a science).
I suppose your DM reads this forum and so knows how you feel about it. Otherwise, you should tell him. You need a little nudge/pat on the head in recognition for your excellent roleplay (as proven by this campaign journal).
On the other hand, confronting worse and worse situations is what heroes are made for. Hitting you again and again just for the thrill of it is quite natural for the BBEG (I can't say no more, of course, but by now you should guess).
Do you mean the ambush with the Succubus? I think Belessa is going to be very unimpressed with Harliss, since it means adding one more person to the long list of...
In fact, I was thinking about her friends' dirty little secrets. Belessa was just warming up to Liamae, for instance, so her reaction to her supposed "betrayal" should be interesting.
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I suppose your DM reads this forum and so knows how you feel about it. Otherwise, you should tell him. You need a little nudge/pat on the head in recognition for your excellent roleplay (as proven by this...
Thanks. Well, I think from his point of view, he approached it like this: "if among the NPC's Belessa is linked to, I kill characters A, B and C, I kidnap characters D and E and I have character F betray her, I'm sure something cool is going to come out of it, because it'll give the player something to write about in this journal."
Seen from my point of view, it looks like this: "OK, I'm the guy who's present at every game and who spends 12 hours writing the journal after every game, and to reward me, the DM is messing up every single relationship my character has in the game. Meanwhile, the characters of players who are much less invested emotionally in the campaign are 100% unaffected." Feels a bit unfair from that point of view...
The DM knows how I feel, I think he would agree that it was a bit overkill to kill Manthalay AND to kidnap Brissa, given that Belessa already had reasons to go to Scuttlecove to help Tyria, Harliss and Dolmord, and to deal with Moretta, Vanthus and the Crimson Pirates. At least giving me one NPC in a safe position would've made the pill easier to swallow (especially given that the previous game, I had already lost Bereleth and Penkus...).
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The biggest example of something like in my RPG career was when we started a new campaign of Amber diceless RPG. Prior to the first game, I had spend many hours painstakingly describing the world where my character Finnegan lived, even drawing maps of the kingdom, of his barony, and of his castle.
I gave this bundle to the DM (a different one that our Savage Tide DM) at the start of the first game. He looked at it, and was very pleased. "Wow, that's really cool! Good work!"
The other players just had a loose concept of their characters, nothing too detailed.
So the game started. The DM goes: "OK, so you're all at Finnegan's castle. It's getting attacked by a huge army. A super-powerful person has mind-controlled the king, who has ordered all the armies of all the other baronies to lay siege to Finnegan's domain."
By the end of the game, my castle was a smoldering ruin.
All the time I had spent detailing my realm, thinking it would be used during the entire campaign... down the drain.
In fact, I was thinking about her friends' dirty little secrets. Belessa was just warming up to Liamae, for instance, so her reaction to her supposed "betrayal" should be interesting.
Oh, THAT betrayal! ;)
Yeah.
Poor Belessa.
I've noticed that most readers seem to want her to diverge more toward a neutral alignment, rather than evil, so I've tried to go in that direction. But the other PC's and NPC's keep pulling stupid crap like this on her... making it very hard for me to justify that she would sway from a "screw you all" Neutral Evil alignment... Frankly, some of them have just been BEGGING to be targeted by a Destruction spell for some time now.
From a philosophical point of view, I find Moretta's reaction very interesting. She's a complete moron to have let herself be manipulated by Tolin like that. The entire premise of her escape, that Belessa would try to murder her child, is false. If she had stayed in Farshore, everything would've remained hunky dory.
But BECAUSE she betrayed Belessa and left her behind, now she, her husband and her child are the targets of her wrath. I'm not sure how things will go when Belessa finally catches up to them. It will depend on the conditions. But chances are high that things are going to get VERY ugly for some people... including the people who chose to side with Moretta instead of with Belessa (i.e. The Jade Ravens, Lavinia and Lagaan).
Btw, thank you for being so supportive, Smarnil, it's very comforting to have a sympathetic ear, even if it's separated from me by an entire ocean. :)
You're welcome. I am too a roleplaying guy, among a crowd of not-always-paying-attention-to-the-background types, and so got burned in the same way sometimes (native town burnt down, entire family butchered, you get the picture).
And removing all your relatives/friends in one fell swoop WAS overkill. :)
Total overkill by your DM I agree but other then that he's been doing some great foreshadowing and dropping little bread crumbs all the time. I think that the return of Vanthus and the kidnapping of Lavinia would have been enough though to motivate even your party into action.
Absolutely, I agree with Guy. I didn't intend to say that your DM is below par, because he definitively isn't (as you probably well know, don't you, Moonbeam?), but that he was probably in this instance a little more heavy-handed than necessary to motivate your group into investigating Scuttlecove, and in the process inflicted a lot of collateral damage to your lovingly crafted character story.
Just to be clear about this, no offense to your DM intended.
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Total overkill by your DM I agree but other then that he's been doing some great foreshadowing and dropping little bread crumbs all the time. I think that the return of Vanthus and the kidnapping of Lavinia would have been enough though to motivate even your party into action.Absolutely, I agree with Guy. I didn't intend to say that your DM is below par, because he definitively isn't (as you probably well know, don't you, Moonbeam?), but that he was probably in this instance a little more heavy-handed than necessary to motivate your group into investigating Scuttlecove, and in the process inflicted a lot of collateral damage to your lovingly crafted character story.
Just to be clear about this, no offense to your DM intended.
Too late, I already fired him.
j/k ;)
Yeah, I haven't had the chance to talk about this with him since the last game, but I'm pretty sure he agrees too.
Nightal 27th, 1376 (continued)
Victims of the Leech
After I healed the wounds we had taken during the fight against the Yuan-Tis, we searched their corpses. We found many magical items in their possession, some of which were of use to us. Raguhl took the blackguard’s enormous bow, which nobody else among us could bend, and Lagaan took his bracers, which would increase his skill as an archer. As for myself, I took his belt of strength, which was more powerful than the one I already had. I handed mine to Sparkillo, the only one among us who did not possess such an item already. Hopefully, it will make him less of a weakling.
Before proceeding further, I decided to question our fallen enemies with my necromantic magic. Alas, it was a long process, since most of them resisted my attempts at communicating. One of the assassins regained a semblance of life just long enough for me to ask it a few questions. It spoke with a hissing voice in the Abyssal tongue, and from its stiff jaw drooled a virulent poison that trickled to the ground.
I learned from the foul creature that Harliss had been taken prisoner and tortured. She was being held in a place called the Crooked Spire, which didn’t ring a bell to any of us, by some people called ‘The Sisters’. The assassin had worshipped Demogorgon in life, and his master, the Blackguard, had been called the Leech. Apparently, this ‘Leech’ had been warned of our arrival by ‘the reborn dead one’.
“Vanthus!” exclaimed Raguhl.
Even though they had been allies, the assassin did not know the location of the Crimson Pirate base. It had gone there on a few occasions, but had always been brought to it and back by Bar-Lguras. My last question was about Tyria, but the assassin did not know who she was. Although I was disappointed to still be in the dark about our former companion, at least I was reassured that she had likely not fallen prey to these deadly reptiles.
Lagaan then found a trap door leading to the basement. We soon found ourselves in the nightmarish abode of the Leech. What had once been a secret meeting room for the mysterious group of rebels was now decorated by huge snake skins, likely those the Leech itself had shed in the past, as well as the skins of several unfortunate humans and demi-humans. In a corner was displayed a disgusting idol that consisted of various body parts stitched together. We guessed that they had been made from the same people whose skins decorated the walls, and that it was meant to represent Demogorgon.
We spent some time searching the basement, for it also contained other rooms. In one of them, inside a large barrel, we found the rest of the remains of about ten people who had been skinned and butchered. It seemed like the team who had once used this place as a base had been slain by the deadly Yuan-Tis, after suffering horrible fates. Thankfully, Harliss did not appear to be among the victims. I dared to hope that she was still alive.
Our inspection led us to believe that the Yuan-Tis had been here for about one to two weeks. Lagaan had suspected that perhaps the magical dream where I had seen Harliss had been a trap from the start, and in fact, even I had feared this, but given this evidence, it seemed it had been genuine. Harliss and her men had just had the misfortune of being slain before we could get here to save them.
In the Leech’s nest in the main room, we found a few valuable trinkets, as well as a bag that contained equipment and clothing which we immediately recognized as Harliss’s. Indeed, I remembered the scorpion earrings she had worn, among other pieces of gaudy jewelry, and her rapier looked familiar as well. While we were examining it, a small scrap of paper fell from one of her pockets. I picked it up and read it:
“Esteemed Tyralandi, the bearer of this note is a friend and associate of mine. If you could aid her, I would be once again in your debt. Please extend to her every courtesy. Signed: Zimon Alenveer”
The name didn’t ring a bell, nor did we have a clue why he had given this paper so that Harliss could visit the mistress of Scuttlecove’s most notorious brothel. We placed Harliss’s equipment inside the portable hole, but I kept the paper with me. Perhaps I could use it at some later time.
The only other thing of interest we found in the basement was a secret tunnel that seemed to lead toward the Rusty Shunt, as hinted by the line we had seen drawn on the map upstairs. However, it was very narrow and managed to be at the same time dusty and muddy. If we wanted to go down that tunnel, we would’ve had to crawl on all four in the mud, and would’ve been vulnerable to all kinds of traps or other nasty things. In the end, we decided to ignore it and just walk toward the Rusty Shunt on the surface. I feared to find another ambush there, but later found that those fears had been unjustified.
We climbed back upstairs and discussed our options. We had so many things to do here, so many people to meet and so many more to rescue. We still had so many questions… we had only just arrived in town. We decided to keep following the track we were on and head to the Rusty Shunt and see if we could find more information there. If Harliss’s allies there were still alive, they would surely be interested to know what had happened here, and perhaps they would make good allies for us against the Crimson Pirates and other foul Demogorgon worshippers.
The Rusty Shunt
Night had fallen during our exploration of Red Foam Whaling, but the town was still very much alive, perhaps even more so than during daytime. I was not surprised. As we made our way toward the Rusty Shunt, we were surrounded by the sounds of sinful merriment, back alley murders and dark cults chanting to the glory of ancient and malevolent powers. Mixed in with the human scum of the town, we spotted a few dark elves and undead, while above us, we heard the fluttering of dark wings in the shadows.
We reached the Rusty Shunt, a tavern built with sturdy logs. To our relief, it was not the scene of another butchery and ambush like Red Foam Whaling: in fact, it was quite a lively place, packed with pirates who didn’t seem as aggressive as the patrons of the Violated Ogre. Up on a small stage, a half-elven bard was entertaining the crowd. The owner greeted us and led us to a vacant table. On the way, we saw another group of adventurers enjoying themselves. They looked pretty formidable, much as we would’ve looked if we hadn’t been trying to keep a low profile. Too much was at stake for us to flaunt our power like this.
The owner, one Lars Landicaster, took our orders himself. It was quite expensive there, even more than at the Violated Ogre. Once we were done ordering our food, I told him discreetly that I wanted to speak with him about some important matter. He considered it warily for a moment, and told me he would get back to me at a later time. I had noticed that there were plenty of dark alcoves in the place, so I was convinced that discreet meetings were a common occurrence in this establishment. Nevertheless, once Landicaster was back behind the bar, I noticed that he eyed me warily as he spoke to several of his associates. I wondered if this place was really run by the Protectorate, as Zan suspected. I hoped the rogue hadn’t been wrong, otherwise we might have entered a den of wolves instead.
We ate and drank without worrying about the food being poisoned, since we were under the effect of my Heroes’ Feast. The food we were served wasn’t bad, but it surely wasn’t as good as what I could summon with my own magic, and it surely wasn’t worth the ridiculous amount of money we were being charged.
After we finished our meal, Lagaan and I mingled with the crowd to try and glean more information about our missing allies. I tried to discover the location of the local temple of Umberlee, guessing that it would likely be the sanctuary where Moretta and her companions would’ve sought shelter. It might also have provided a source of help for me in this lawless place. Alas, I was sorely disappointed to discover that nobody seemed to know about a temple to my goddess. In a pirate port, of all places! Unbelievable! The only temples that seemed to be well-known in Scuttlecove were those of Talos and Mammon.
I had hoped that Shondesh had built a grand temple to Umberlee in here, to gain her many worshippers among the local pirates, but it seemed it was not the case. I could understand that all religions had been forbidden in Scuttlecove under the rulership of the Ur-Priests, but it had been five years already since their disappearance…
At least, I now knew where to find the temple of Talos: it was located atop a hill in the northwest part of town, in a place often struck by lightning. Perhaps the priests there would know more about the local cult of Umberlee, though I knew it might be dangerous to approach these violent lunatics who were allied to my faith in only the loosest possible way.
My fruitless research was interrupted by a broad-shouldered ruffian who claimed to work for Landicaster. He said that his master was now ready to receive me in his office, in the back of the building. I feared some foul-play, but decided to follow him, knowing that I could call upon the rest of Trouble through our mental link should I be attacked. As I followed Landicaster’s bodyguard, I saw Ulfgar, holding several mugs of beer, approach the table where the other group of adventurers were sitting.
I found myself alone with Landicaster and his man. I thought the meeting was to take place with just him and me, but clearly, he was more afraid of me than I was of him. Which was surely fitting. I told him in a roundabout way that I had been at Red Foam Whaling and that I had seen signs of slaughter inside. I also informed him that I would be interested in meeting Harliss Javell, but the man pretended not to know her, nor to be related to Red Foam Whaling in any way. He hinted that he could provide me with some other kind of information about Scuttlecove if I had the money, but I hesitated to pay him for this… I wasn’t confident that his information would be reliable or helpful, and since he claimed he wasn’t allied with the Protectorate, it probably meant that I couldn’t trust him.
As it turned out, I indeed couldn’t trust him. He had blatantly lied about not being allied with the Protectorate, as I soon discovered.
The Protectorate
As I was gauging Landicaster, I heard some mental chatter through Sparkie’s link: the others were regrouping in the main room of the tavern, as they had met someone. A few moments later, the door to the room I was sitting in opened and a small man entered, followed by the other members of Trouble. Landicaster and I stood up, both surprised.
As it turned out, the little man was a thief who worked for the Protectorate. He had approached Raguhl and had made a strange gesture at him, which the lizardman had returned. Sparkie had witnessed this exchange and was rather puzzled by it.
“It’s all right, Lars,” said the little man to the owner of the place. “We can trust them. I’ll take it from here.”
Landicaster and his bodyguard nodded to the thief and returned to the tavern’s main room, as our guide opened a secret panel in the back of the room. It led to a dark stairway descending into the building’s basement. We found ourselves in a small chapel dedicated to a mysterious entity that looked like a female elf wielding sharp blades. I didn’t recognize her, but guessed she was some kind of high celestial power.
Past the shrine, we were led into a room where we met eight people led by a man whose most distinguishable feature was a neatly-trimmed beard. He nodded to the little thief and shook Raguhl’s hand.
“Welcome, brother Raguhl,” he said. “I am Rizl Tomodar, the leader of this enclave.”
I shared a puzzled look with the others. ‘brother?’
Was Raguhl part of this cult? In fact, now that I thought about it, he had never mentioned adhering to any faith before. I had simply assumed that he was an atheist like Ulfgar. It seemed that for some reason, he had kept his beliefs secret.
We learned that our hosts were members of the Protectorate, a small band of secretive do-gooders who operated in Scuttlecove to free slaves, fight slavers, and perform other such noble, but ultimately futile, deeds. Raguhl briefly told them the main points of our story, describing in greater detail our relationship with Harliss Javell, the dream she had sent us, the corrupting effects of the Shadow Pearls witnessed at Kraken’s Cove and now in this region as well, and finally, what we’d seen at Red Foam Whaling. Tomodar and his men didn’t seem all that surprised to hear about the butchery. They already knew that the base had been attacked. It had happened around ten days before our arrival. When we told them what we’d learned from the dead assassin, they revealed that the Crooked Tower, where Harliss was allegedly being kept captive for questioning, was located near the center of the town. It was a brothel run by harpies called the Sisters of Lamentation. This also seemed to correspond to what the assassin had said: ‘the sisters have her’. The place was also called the Bird Cage.
We also learned that the leader of the now-deceased squadron of the Protectorate that had been stationed at Red Foam Whaling had been named Zimon Alenveer: this was the man who had written that note we found in Harliss’s clothing. Clearly, he was now dead.
We had many questions about Scuttlecove and our missing allies, and Tomodar was able to answer a few of them. The Yuan-Tis we had killed had been members of the Seventh Coil, a group of slavers and assassins who worshipped Demogorgon and who were allied with the Crimson Pirates. Unfortunately, the Protectorate knew neither the location of the Seventh Coil headquarters, nor that of the Crimson Pirate base. Tomodar also clarified that The Yuan-Tis had at one point controlled Porphyry House, but about five years ago, they had been vanquished by a group of heroes. Since then, Tyralandi, the thrall of Graz’zt, had taken over the operation. She was apparently very powerful and one of the most well-informed people in town, so allying with her might be to our advantage. Since her master was a legendary enemy of Demogorgon, it seemed more and more likely that indeed, we stood to benefit from an alliance with her.
“Perhaps you should seek her aid,” said Tomodar. “Indeed, at times, an alliance with evil is a necessary thing in the name of the greater good.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” replied Raguhl, to whom I gave a dry smile when he turned to glance at me.
Rizl Tomodar had heard about Tyria, and his group had even considered hiring her at some point, but alas, she had disappeared before they could make the offer. Like us, they had no idea what had happened to her. He informed us that Kedward Bone was one of the most evil and powerful people in town, definitely not someone one would want to trifle with. He was a diabolist and an ally of the fast-growing church of Mammon.
Speaking of churches, I got the confirmation that the temple to Umberlee didn’t exist anymore. So clearly, Shondesh had failed. I wondered if the temple had been wiped out by a rival faith. Given this new information, I wondered where Moretta could possible have gone…
To our surprise, Tomodar had never even heard the name Vanthus Vanderboren. We had always assumed that he was a fairly high-ranking member of the Crimson Pirates, and well-known in this dirty town. Apparently, it was not the case. The master of the Crimson Pirates, Cold Captain Wyther, was notorious in these parts, though.
Once we had gotten all the answers our new allies could provide, they requested our assistance. They claimed that one of their men was being held captive at the Hanging Plaza at the center of town. In the past, they had relied on a mage from their organization to free high-profile captives by teleportation, but alas, this unfortunate spellcaster had been among the victims of the Leech and his goons. Now, Tomodar asked Sparkie if he would be willing to replace her for one mission. Without even asking the identity of the man we were supposed to save (which would soon provide an interesting surprise), Sparkie and Raguhl accepted the mission. Of course, we were offered no reward, but I considered that the information the men had given us, however limited it had been, counted as such. After all, we wanted to show these people that we could be trusted, and what we were capable of.
They gave us a few potions that replicated a simple illusion spell. Sparkie, Ulfgar and the little thief would use them to alter their appearance and try to get close to our mark, to free him and teleport out before the Dire Hunger Monks who guarded the place could react. Meanwhile, the rest of us would follow them and help out if needed. Lagaan altered his appearance with his magical hat, but Raguhl and I were forced to go as our normal selves, as the Protectorate was running low on these illusionary potions.
“All right, let’s go then,” said a huge man who looked exactly like the fighter in that other group of adventurers we had seen upstairs. We all chuckled at this nice illusion: Ulfgar was already enjoying this mission a little too much.
The Hanging Plaza
We made our way in pairs through the dimly lit streets of Scuttlecove, heading toward the Hanging Plaza at the center of town. Sparkie and the little thief walked in front. Some distance behind them came Ulfgar and Lagaan, who were in turn followed by Raguhl and myself. By traveling in smaller groups like this, we hoped to attract less attention.
Along the way, Ulfgar told us through the mental link about his meeting with the other group of adventurers. Their leader was a massive human warrior armed with gigantic sword. The others were a bald priest of Shaundakul, the god of travelers; a mysterious woman dressed in hooded robes; and a dwarven rogue armed with many knives. They had apparently started exploring the ruins of the Ur-Priests’ palace two days ago. Within, they had fought golems and traps of mechanical and magical nature. Apparently, they were being paid by several inhabitants of the city to fetch valuable items from the palace.
Ulfgar’s greed had been awoken by the other group’s tales of adventure, and he tried to convince us to go to the ruins and find our own share of treasure. Clearly, the dwarf was callously ignoring the plight that had befallen Tyria, Harliss, Lavinia, Brissa and Liamae. Thankfully, the rest of the group backed me up in convincing the mercenary that rescuing our missing friends was our top priority. He grumbled a few curses in dwarven, and then the telepathic bond went quiet for a while.
“So you’re part of this cult, then?” I asked Raguhl.
The lizardman looked at me sideways. He was clearly wary, and only grunted a vague acknowledgement.
“But how did you join it? You’ve never been in Scuttlecove before, have you?”
“No… There was a temple back in Sasserine.”
“Who are you worshipping? I didn’t recognize that idol in the shrine.”
Again, Raguhl remained silent for a few moments, but he finally replied: “She is Gwynharwyf, the Whirling Fury. She is a great slayer of demons.”
It made sense. I knew the lizardman felt a special hatred for demons, more than any of us in the group. He had even trained with the savage Jakara to learn special ways of fighting them. “I see. Well, she sounds like a good mistress to have when fighting the minions of Demogorgon.”
Raguhl nodded, but said no more.
Finally, we arrived at the plaza. Thick stone pillars supported a structure of wooden beams which forming several concentric circles. Attached to the beams were spikes, hooked chains and iron cages that contained some prisoners. A crowd of thugs and sadists had gathered at this late hour to torment these unfortunate wretches. I immediately sensed that Raguhl tensed at this unpleasant spectacle, and I began speaking to him softly, trying to calm him down. It would do us no good at all if he foolishly tried to free any of these prisoners. Sparkillo had a good chance of making a quick escape thanks to his magic, but Raguhl would have to rely only on his brute strength, which would clearly get him into a lot of trouble.
“Our little friend knows this woman over there,” said Sparkillo through the mental link. I looked where he pointed with his chin. In one of the cages, I saw the shape of a badly abused woman wearing filthy rags. She seemed barely conscious, and yet, a group of dark elves surrounded her cage, throwing rotten fruits at her and cackling at her misfortune.
“Apparently, her name is Alyssa,” added Sparkillo.
“We should save her!” replied Lagaan.
“Is she the one we came here to save?” I asked.
After a brief exchange with his small companion, Sparkillo replied, “No, the one we have to save is over there.”
He was pointing at a short, squat shape who was huddled in another cage.
“That one’s too far…” I said. “You won’t be able to get both. Let’s just free the one we’ve been asked to get and leave before we attract too much attention.”
A brief discussion ensued, as Lagaan wanted to try and save both, but I was able to convince him to reach a compromise: Sparkillo would first save the Protectorate man, teleport to safety, and then come back under another disguise, and save the woman with another teleport spell.
I preferred to keep it is safe, because there were a few monks of the Dire Hunger guarding the place, and we had no idea of their true powers; but I guessed they were quite dangerous. What’s more, the crowd itself seemed nasty, as it included gnolls, a bugbear, a Duergar, and a wicked-looking man with a large wolf.
“Kaskus!” suddenly said Sparkillo.
“What?”
“It’s Kaskus! He’s here in this cage! He’s the one we need to save!”
We were all quite surprised. We had not at all expected the dwarven druid of the Jade Ravens to be a member of the Protectorate. I knew he had been in town for a while, since he had gotten here with Moretta and Tolin… But how had he joined the Protectorate, and why was he now in this predicament? As much as I resented him for aiding the two fugitives, I felt a sense of elation at the prospect that, once freed, he would be able to lead us to Moretta at long last.
With two simple spells, Sparkillo was able to open Kaskus’s cage and to teleport away with him and the little thief. The Dire Monks realized what had happened a few moments later, but it was too late by then. Through the mental link, we heard that a priest at the Protectorate base came to heal Kaskus, but the dwarf had been at the brink of death, and did not regain consciousness even under the healer’s treatment. What’s more, Sparkillo reported that the druid’s tongue had been cut off. He had clearly been tortured quite thoroughly. As I received all of this information, I of course wondered if Moretta, Tolin and their newborn had been made prisoners and had been subjected to such treatments as well…
Sparkillo then decided to return to the Plaza to free Alyssa. The rest of us waited for him here, just in case he should need us. We watched with amused detachment the Dire Hunger monks fume and ask questions of the other visitors of the place. In the mean time, Ulfgar had gotten bored and had wandered toward a merchant’s stall, where rotten tomatoes could be purchased, of course to be used as missiles to be thrown at unfortunate prisoners in the cages.
Through the mental link, Sparkillo relayed to us what he learned about Alyssa from talking to the little thief. She had apparently served as a plaything at Porphyry House, held under magical control by mistress Tyralandi. Some time ago, her brother had tried to rescue her. He had come to the Protectorate to ask them for help in freeing her, but the operation had failed. The brother had survived, but he had not taken the defeat gracefully: he had succumbed to substance addiction and had disappeared into the eastern slums. After about five years of entertaining the villainous clientele of the brothel, it appeared that poor Alyssa had finally been deemed to be “used up” and had been thrown out like garbage. Then, she had seemingly found herself at the Hanging Plaza, condemned to die a slow, painful and humiliating death.
But of much greater concern to me than the poor girl’s tales of woes was her identity. Sparkillo said that her brother had been called Aaron Islaran. That name was of course quite familiar to both of us: Keltar Islaran had been the Harbourmaster of Sasserine until about two years ago, when he had been slain (most likely by his rivals, the Kellanis) at the beginning of our conflict with the Lotus Dragons!
This meant that poor little Alyssa here, and her brother, if he was still alive, were the only remaining heirs of the Islaran family. Although Sparkillo sounded quite excited about this prospect through the telepathic bond, my mind immediately began calculating the repercussions. If this silly girl was returned safe and sound to Sasserine, then she could claim control over the Islarans’ holdings, which were the ones the Meravanchi family (currently under the leadership of Zebula, but hopefully only for a short while still) was trying to wrestle control of. Much of the plans that Manthalay and I had formulated for our future had assumed that we would have control of the Islaran estate.
If we rescued her, the repercussions would gravely limit Manthalay’s political future.
I simply could not allow something like that to happen… She was right there, weak, alone and vulnerable. I might not get another chance to strike. I had to act, now!
I tried to approach Alyssa’s cage nonchalantly and to distract Raguhl’s attention, but the infuriating nitwit kept following me around like an overgrown lapdog. I could not afford for him to see what I was about to do, because I was convinced that he would be enraged by my actions. As usual, he would come to the defence of a complete stranger instead of supporting his long-time adventuring companion.
Thankfully, though, another member of the group came to my help in a most unexpected way: Raguhl’s eyes suddenly went wide with surprise as a rotten tomato struck the back of his head. He immediately turned around, fuming at Ulfgar, who was chuckling stupidly, still under the guise of the seven-foot-tall human warrior of the other adventuring group.
“What the…???” growled Raguhl. “What’s the matter with you, Ulf… I mean… stranger?”
While the lizardman was distracted, I quickly cast a prayer of pain on the captive Alyssa, using my magical rod to make the spell silent. To my satisfaction, I felt her life force being snuffed out like a candle’s flame. Then, I looked back toward Ulfgar just in time to see a round, red projectile hurtling in my direction. Reacting quickly, I grabbed the tomato with a telekinetic wave created by my ring, and sent it right back at its owner, whose face it exploded on.
“Hey! That’s not fair!” he yelled.
Having learned his lesson, Ulfgar selected other victims with his stinking tomatoes. The bugbear and Duergar that he picked on looked like they were going to reach for their weapons for a moment, but then, they hurried to go buy tomatoes from the vendor, and a food fight began.
By that time, Sparkillo and the little thief had returned. While the Dire Hunger monks now dealt with the mayhem of the food fight, the elven wizard easily liberated Alyssa and teleported away with her corpse: it’s only after he reached his destination that he realized that she had already passed away.
Raguhl and I stood to the side and watched the pandemonium as the monks’ fury went up one notch when they realized another prisoner had been freed. His work being done, Ulfgar (his cloak and beard covered with tomato juice) discreetly left the scene. Lagaan, Raguhl and I then did the same, and we all headed back toward the Rusty Shunt.
“Bad news, my friends,” said Sparkillo through the mental link. “It seems we were too late. Poor Alyssa was already dead.”
“Nooo!!” wailed Raguhl.
“According to the priest here, she died due to some vile black magic.” I tensed for a moment as he paused, fearing that I would be accused. But Sparkillo continued with: “It must surely be those accursed dark elves who performed such a despicable act!”
A runt without a tongue
We all made our way back to the Rusty Shunt. Kaskus had been placed on a bed in the central shrine. He was in terrible shape, even after the other priest had used his magic to heal him. He had truly been at death’s door when we had saved him. Sparkillo and Ulfgar were elsewhere in the basement, talking with some members of the Protectorate, but Lagaan, Raguhl and I had come to check up on the Jade Ravens’ druid. The priest of Gwynharwyf was also with us.
Raguhl caressed Kaskus’s filthy hair with a rough clawed hand. The sight of the tortured dwarf made him wince. “Is there nothing else you can do, brother?” he asked, but the priest of Gwynharwyf shook his head. Raguhl then closed his eyes, and reluctantly turned toward me. “What about you, Belessa, can you provide additional healing for Kaskus?”
I did not answer right away. I felt no compassion for that miserable cur Kaskus. In my mind, he had gotten just what he deserved. It was just a pity that it was someone else who had been fortunate enough to perform the actual torture. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for me to give a similar treatment to Tolin. But still, I wanted him to tell me how to find Moretta and Tolin, and I knew that the others would nag me to death if I didn’t heal him. I reluctantly approached him and placed my hands on his chest. I spoke the words of a powerful prayer and released divine healing energy within his body. The nearby Altar of Gwynharwyf shook from the potency of Umberlee’s magic being channelled in its vicinity.
“What dark magic is this?” asked the priest, outraged.
“You have just witnessed the power of a TRUE goddess, fool!” I snapped back. “I am the hierophant of Umberlee, the Mistress of Storms and Queen of the Deeps. My help was requested, and I provided it with my goddess’s blessing. Be thankful that I deigned to perform such a miracle in your dingy little shrine!”
Kaskus coughed and opened his eyes. It was clear that his body had been healed greatly.
“Thank you for this, Belessa,” said Raguhl. “Kaskus, you’re safe now. We rescued you. Are you all right?”
The dwarf blinked dazedly for a few moments before his gaze focused on Raguhl’s monstrous head. He then looked at each of us in turn. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Lagaan.
“His tongue hasn’t grown back!” said Raguhl in a horrified tone.
“How come it didn’t grow back, Belessa?”
“Because that requires an even more powerful spell,” I replied.
“Are you able to do it?”
“Of course I am, I used such a spell to regenerate Brissa’s eye, after all. But it seems that the healing powers of Umberlee are not appreciated here,” I said, glaring at the priest of the Whirling Fury. Indeed, I felt that this place was hallowed in the name of that celestial power, and I actually felt some resistance when channelling Umberlee’s magic in this location.
“I appreciate what you’re doing,” replied the cleric reluctantly, “but I would ask you to please cast your spells in a different location.”
I nodded. “Well, I’ll have to think about it. Do you have some parchment, brother? Let’s see if Kaskus can answer a few simple questions to prove that he’s worthy of such powerful magic.”
Everyone stared at me, but the priest went to fetch some sheets of parchment, as well as a quill and ink from a nearby desk. He placed them in Kaskus’s lap.
“What happened to you, Kaskus?” I asked. “How were you captured?”
He stared at me and did not respond, nor did he write anything down. He still seemed quite weak, and I believed that his mind had been broken in addition to his body. Perhaps it had been done by magic. But my spell had taken care of the worst of it.
“Where are Moretta and Tolin?” I continued. “Were they captured too?”
He slowly and clumsily wrote down a few words. I looked down and saw that he had written: ‘I don’t know.’
“I hope you’re not just writing that because you don’t trust me, Kaskus. I would be very disappointed if it were the case.”
The dwarven druid glowered at me, then underlined: ‘I don’t know.’
“I see. Well, here’s how it is, Kaskus. As far as I know, I’m the only priestess you know who can restore your tongue. Unless you want to remain mute for a long, long time, I suggest you work a little bit harder to please me. Right now, I’m not particularly fond of you, since you helped that worm Tolin to betray me, and you put my dear Moretta’s life in danger.”
The dwarf wrote down something lengthier this time. I saw that he had written, in crude letters: “I helped tolin because he is my friend. I always help my friends.”
I chuckled dryly. “So do I, actually. Too bad you’re not one of them.” I walked over to the desk and fetched more sheets of parchment, which I then placed on his lap. “You’re going to need these, I’m afraid, because it seems it’ll be a while since you regain your tongue. Why don’t you meditate on your situation, and we’ll discuss again tomorrow and see if you’re feeling more diplomatic?”
Before Lagaan and Raguhl could beg on behalf of the miserable runt, I walked out of the room.
I joined Ulfgar and Sparkillo, who were still talking with members of the Protectorate. Sparkillo was clearly upset by Alyssa’s death, not only because of the loss of life itself, but also because he would’ve liked to question her about Porphyry House. He felt that eventually, we would need to go there, and could use all the preparation and knowledge we could get.
I agreed with him and decided to interrogate Alyssa’s spirit by necromancy. Before doing so, I made sure that our hosts did not object, but since we were not in the shrine itself anymore, I was allowed to perform my ceremony. Before I began, I washed the unfortunate girl’s face with a damp cloth. She had in fact been quite pretty underneath the grime. It was truly regrettable that things had come to this. I wasn’t sure of the specifics of her existence, but if I recalled correctly, the rumours said that she and her brother had left the comfort of their sumptuous manor in Sasserine for a life of adventure. Things had clearly gone horribly, horribly wrong along the way, and I could only imagine the nightmarish mistreatments the pretty young thing had endured at the hands of Porphyry House’s perverted customers.
I had taken no pleasure in killing poor Alyssa. It had strictly been about politics. At least, I could safely assume that she was now in a better place.
Unfortunately, Alyssa’s soul proved much less helpful than Sparkillo had hoped. She had little useful information about Porphyry House. She had no knowledge of Tyralandi’s allies, powers, or of a secret entrance to the building. She did confirm that some of the customers had been Crimson Pirates, and she also said that Tyralandi was extremely well-informed. She quite likely knew how to get inside the Crimson Pirate base. However, in order to gain that information, Alyssa said that one of us would need to ‘please’ Tyralandi. I shared a grin with Ulfgar. It was quite obvious what kind of ‘pleasing’ she was talking about. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure there was anyone in our group that would be particularly qualified to please a half-nymph, half-succubus brothel owner of otherworldly beauty. Raguhl was a monster, Ulfgar was a dwarf, Lagaan and Sparkillo didn’t have an ounce of charm between the two of them, and although I was of course the most charismatic member of the group by far, I was at an anatomical disadvantage when it came to ‘pleasing’ women.
Shortly after that, Lagaan and Raguhl joined us. Kaskus had fallen asleep again, and had apparently not said much after I’d left. It seemed he was still quite exhausted, despite the magical healing. Raguhl asked me if I would come back tomorrow to restore him more fully, and I said I might, if I was so inclined. The lizardman seemed on the verge of starting an argument for a moment, but wisely decided to let it drop.
Before we left, Sparkillo cast a Magnificent Mansion in the Protectorate basement, to act as a shelter in case of an attack by members of the Seventh Coil.
The Sea Wyvern’s defenders
I wanted to go to the Bird Cage that night to try and free Harliss. Assuming she wasn’t already dead, then her life must surely be in great danger. Unfortunately, except for Raguhl, the others whined that they were tired and that Sparkillo had used many of his spells; they wanted to rest for the night before attempting to free the pirate captain. Clearly, they were not as worried about her well-being as I was. After a few minutes of pointless arguing, I gave up and decided to let these delicate flowers have their beauty sleep.
Once we reached the Sea Wyvern, even though it was dark, we could see signs of damage on the beautiful ship. A few crew members came to greet us as we climbed back on board, and told us that another group of ruffians had mounted an attack against the ship; thankfully, they had been repelled. Raguhl growled in frustration: clearly, he would’ve liked to be there and punish the assailants himself. I congratulated our men on a job well done, and applied my healing magic to each one in turn.
One of the last ones I treated was Stragdar: the stubborn dwarf endured pain better than our human crew members. He mentioned that even Avner had helped in the fight. I nearly fell out of my chair when I heard this. When I finally found the nobleman, I saw that one of his arms was wounded. I told him that I was proud of him for helping to defend the Sea Wyvern, and he replied with quiet humility. He had radically changed: could Ulfgar and Lagaan have really made a man out of him? Or was this some wicked shape-shifter that had taken Avner’s place?
Avner turned down my offer of healing: perhaps the pain in his arm helped to make him feel more like the warrior he was becoming. Assuming it was the case, I was very happy with this turn of events. I was already starting to consider that Avner could become someone I would one day be proud to count among my relatives.
We decided to sleep on the ship itself rather than in Sparkillo’s mansion, for we wanted to hear if it got attacked again. Lagaan and Ulfgar had gone to bed already, but Sparkillo and Raguhl remained with me as I tried to contact Harliss by magic. Alas, after several minutes of casting, I received no answer. This did not bode well. With a heavy sigh, Sparkillo bade us a good night and went to bed as well.
“I’m worried about Harliss,” said Raguhl. “Perhaps they’ve already killed her.”
“I’m worried too,” I replied. “About her and about many others too.”
“Like Moretta?”
I remained silent for a few moments. “Yes,” I finally said.
“What do you plan on doing if we find her, her child, and Tolin?”
I smirked at the lizardman. “What do you think?”
“I often have trouble guessing what goes on behind those dark eyes of yours.”
I chuckled. “It seems a lot of people do. Even those who are the closest to me; those I have confided in. Like Moretta…”
“Do you want to punish her?”
“Of course I do! But I don’t know if I will. What I feel for her is more pity and disgust than hate.”
“Because she left?”
“Yes.”
“It was her choice to do so… She did not hurt you.”
“Yes she did!” I hissed. “She was my friend! She was like the sister I never had! But she let that OAF Tolin twist her mind! She listened to his hateful lies! But worst of all… worst of all she believed I could actually harm her child! To realize that Moretta, who I trusted with my very life, could ever imagine that I would be capable of doing something so monstrous… is beyond my comprehension.”
“She made a mistake… If she is truly your sister, you should forgive her.”
“Forgive her? Forgive her!? That, my dear Raguhl, is much easier said than done.”
“If you love her as you claim, that’s your chance to show it.”
I glared at him. As usual, Raguhl refused to acknowledge my pain, and defended the one who had hurt me. He was clearly deluding himself if he thought that I could so simply forgive Moretta for what she had done.
“That’s what you would want, isn’t it?” I said after a while. “That’s what you would all want, you, Lagaan, Lavinia, Kaskus, all of you who helped the two little love birds to escape the claws of the evil Belessa, who loves to sacrifice other people’s babies for no particular reason…”
“We don’t really think like that, but…”
“But what!?!?”
“Well, you can’t blame us for not trusting you. We realize that you’re very powerful, and we appreciate your presence… and we respect your faith… but we disagree with some of your choices, which are tainted by darkness. I speak plainly to you, Belessa, out of respect for you. You are my companion, and even, my friend. I wish only to help you, but I cannot do so if you insist on remaining shrouded in darkness.”
“Well, Raguhl, this matter is in fact between Moretta and me. You can’t understand how I feel because you don’t have all the information at hand. And I don’t have time to listen to your fancy speech about evil and darkness. Save it for another night, because I’m too tired right now. Good night.”
I retired to my room before the dumb barbarian could launch into another one of his boring tirades. Nevertheless, I was so upset about the whole Moretta situation that it took me a while to fall asleep… especially since every little noise made me wonder if a team of cutthroats were trying to infiltrate the Sea Wyvern.
Nightal 28th, 1376
The Bird Cage
I awoke the next morning with my throat intact, which meant it bore only the old scar left years ago by my decapitation. I groaned: what a terrible thought to start my day…
The ship hadn’t been attacked during the night. After praying to Umberlee, I met the men inside the mansion, where I summoned a Heroes’ Feast. We discussed what we had to do and what we had learned so far. There were so many different ways we could go. But among all of our allies who were in danger, Harliss was the only one we had an idea where to find. So even though I would’ve preferred to favour rescuing Brissa or Tyria, we decided to go to the Bird Cage as we had discussed yesterday.
Raguhl approached me about healing Kaskus, but I fixed him with such a withering glare that he withdrew in silence: it was still too early in the day to talk about that scumbag.
Heavy rain poured from a morose gray sky over Scuttlecove. Along the way toward the Crooked Tower, Lagaan stopped at a merchant shop to buy some cold iron arrows. We waited outside for a few minutes while the owner, a paranoid bearded man, only let the thief inside.
Soon after, we reached the Bird Cage: it was a small gray tower decorated with flags and carvings of dagger-wielding harpies. I suggested to my companions to remain discreet and penetrate the tower through magical subterfuge, but as usual, the men simply shrugged and decided to open the main door, like the simple brutes that they are. I sighed and followed them inside. The entrance hallway was lavishly decorated, indicating that this brothel must’ve been very successful. The furniture here was of top quality, the walls were decorated with scenes of a sexual nature. They showed some pretty perverted stuff: naughty, naughty little harpies!
We were greeted by a man who was slouched behind a table in a corner. He looked either drugged, or charmed, or both. He offered us some wine and asked if we had an appointment. Lagaan helped himself to a drink, confident that our magical protections would prevent him from being harmed by it.
“We don’t have an appointment, but we would like to meet the mistresses of this place about a matter of some urgency,” I told the receptionist.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he replied lethargically. “Would you like to take an appointment and come back later?”
“Can we do this my way?” asked Ulfgar through the mental link.
“Yes, I suggest we do this ‘the Ulfgar way’”, said Sparkillo.
Before we began the pummelling session, I cast some protective spells over the entire group, guessing that the harpies we were likely to fight in there would try and control our minds. Once that was done, Sparkillo opened the far door with a spell. We left the entrance, heedless of the receptionist’s feeble protests. We were now inside the tower, which consisted mostly of a huge room that spanned over many floors: the structure was mostly hollow, with a few side rooms and balconies above. In the middle of the tower, a huge cage of metal and crystal was hanging from a network of beams above.
A handful of slaves looked around, surprised by our arrival. They were all attractive men and women who had been dressed in embarrassing costumes of leather and peacock feathers. They seemed to be wondering whether we’d come here looking for entertainment or bloodshed. Above us all, three harpies were hovering near the cage. They clearly understood our intentions, for they dove toward us with piercing shrieks!
Birdy, birdy... ;)
As said on another thread, at least the impulses of chaos-prone Ulfgar provided a nice diversion to cover the second evasion attempt... and Alyssa's murder. You cant't really complain (this time).
Snuffing off a defenseless prisoner on the sly for political gain was SOooo evil, but so in character for Belessa... Congratulations for pulling it off under the nose of your comrades!
Write on...
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Birdy, birdy... ;)
As said on another thread, at least the impulses of chaos-prone Ulfgar provided a nice diversion to cover the second evasion attempt... and Alyssa's murder. You cant't really complain (this time).
Snuffing off a defenseless prisoner on the sly for political gain was SOooo evil, but so in character for Belessa... Congratulations for pulling it off under the nose of your comrades!
Write on...
Thanks, that scene was quite weird for me when we played it, because I also play Raguhl... Belessa failed to exceed his Spot roll with her Bluff roll (I rolled utter crap for her Bluff checks the entire session... so maybe Lagaan also suspects that she killed Alyssa). And Raguhl surely wouldn't put up with that kind of crap. So I had a hard time figuring out what would happen. I was indeed relieved that Ulfgar's player decided to play with the tomatoes. :)
By the way, if I have one regret about this campaign, it's that I haven't developed Raguhl's character more. But I am so focused on Belessa that he gets left on the side very often. That's too bad, because he's a very cool character. But I guess when playing 2 characters, if one of them gets their own journal, of course that character will be focused on.
Thanks, that scene was quite weird for me when we played it, because I also play Raguhl...
Oops, I forgot. But it's even better: you even managed to fool yourself! Roleplay rulez! ;)
By the way, if I have one regret about this campaign, it's that I haven't developed Raguhl's character more. But I am so focused on Belessa that he gets left on the side very often. That's too bad, because he's a very cool character. But I guess when playing 2 characters, if one of them gets their own journal, of course that character will be focused on.
The only one workable answer to your conundrum is to write TWO journals, one for each character (and renounce by the day to see the light of the sun for some years. Not a big loss: anyway, you only have one or two days of light a year, that far north, don't you?). :D
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The only one workable answer to your conundrum is to write TWO journals, one for each character (and renounce by the day to see the light of the sun for some years. Not a big loss: anyway, you only have one or two days of light a year, that far north, don't you?). :D
Raguhl's journal would consist only of pictures, since he's illiterate. ;)
Also, if I'm not mistaken, I think France is farther to the north than Montreal. I think it's warmer because of the jet stream, but now with global warming, maybe that's even changing? It seems this winter has actually been warmer in Canada than in Europe and in the States. We've hardly had any snow since the new year.
Also, if I'm not mistaken, I think France is farther to the north than Montreal. I think it's warmer because of the jet stream, but now with global warming, maybe that's even changing? It seems this winter has actually been warmer in Canada than in Europe and in the States. We've hardly had any snow since the new year.
You know I was kidding you, right? Actually, France is more or less on the same latitude as Montreal, give or take some degrees. It's just a matter of west coast/east coast (oceanic climate vs. continental one) and of dominant winds in the north hemisphere. Works every time too with my cousin (a Lapointe,by the way).
And you are right, we got snow this winter! Yay! (barely an inch, and it melted before I cculd make a decent smowman with my son... too bad).
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Belessa seems to be getting eviler again. Pretty horrible killing off a helpless and defenseless prisoner, and then trying to black mail Kaskus into giving up his friends so she could presumably kill them. If I were Kaskus I wouldn't help Belessa either :D
Nice story as always Moonbeam
Thanks a lot! Yes, that was pretty evil, to kill that poor prisoner. As for Kaskus and the others, well, they chose to alienate Belessa, which was a really bad decision IMHO since there was really no reason for them to do so, so now they may have to pay the price... We shall see how it turns out. We have another game scheduled for tomorrow, so hopefully that means another update in about a week.
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OK, we had our game yesterday. We were able to rescue some of our friends, but some of our enemies caused a lot of damage to something that is very dear to Belessa.
Those among you who would like to see Belessa be less evil will be happy with the next journal entry, she did a really good deed this time (she got a "gold star" from Raguhl for it ;) ).
Stay tuned. ;)
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Wow. I just read the entire journal. It took almost two weeks. I just don’t have the time to read like I used to.
Anyway, I have to say that I really like how you play Belessa’s Neutral Evil alignment even if she is a self centered whiner. NE is my favorite. It allows you to be evil when you want to, but good when you need to. At the end, it was nice to see her do something evil again (killing the Islaran heir).
Just to let you know, I have been enjoying reading your journal and I’m anxious for the next installment.
When will someone kill this horrible evil woman. I really tried to find some sympathy for her but I couldnt. I have to admit I was laughing my butt off when the paladin walked out on her.
And that is why she is still evil.
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Woohoo, I'm always happy when someone comments on this story!
When will someone kill this horrible evil woman. I really tried to find some sympathy for her but I couldnt. I have to admit I was laughing my butt off when the paladin walked out on her.
Ouch!
I have to say that Belessa is probably the most complex character I've ever played. It's quite weird to have to force myself to play evil. But at the same time, I do love this character, and I can empathize in part with the reason why she behaves the way she does. She is a very sensitive person, and very vulnerable to outside influence. Unfortunately, instead of sucking it up or letting it out in more harmless ways like most people do, she commits quite evil acts out of vengeance, just because she can.
However, in a way, she kind of reflects back what the world throws at her. When she's treated well, she starts getting less and less evil. When she's treated as an evil freak, that only pours more fuel on the fire.
Anyway, the general feeling I am getting from my readers' feedback is that in general you guys prefer when she tends more toward neutrality (I would probably feel the same way), so I am trying to tone things down when I can. I've written about two thirds of the next journal entry, and she is definitely much nicer in this one.
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Wow. I just read the entire journal. It took almost two weeks. I just don’t have the time to read like I used to.
Thank you very much, I am flattered that you took the time to read it!
Anyway, I have to say that I really like how you play Belessa’s Neutral Evil alignment even if she is a self centered whiner. NE is my favorite. It allows you to be evil when you want to, but good when you need to. At the end, it was nice to see her do something evil again (killing the Islaran heir).
Cool. ;) Yeah, I don't want to keep her so evil that reading this journal will feel like torture, but I don't want to make her too "vanilla" either. ;) I'm trying to keep a balance between making her at least a bit lovable, while still keeping her an interesting and consistent character within the concept that she is a priestess of an evil goddess.
Just to let you know, I have been enjoying reading your journal and I’m anxious for the next installment.
Great, normally, it should be ready some time this weekend.
When will someone kill this horrible evil woman. I really tried to find some sympathy for her but I couldnt. I have to admit I was laughing my butt off when the paladin walked out on her.And that is why she is still evil.
Yes. :)
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In many ways she is still very much like that frightened little girl from the slums. Her inner reflections demonstrate that she hasn't emotionally matured especially in contrast with the rest of the party. She has been through a lifetime of hardship, but unfortunately she hasn't learned from the experiences. She kind of reminds me of the evil Xena
That's a very good comment. However, the other members of the group had it easier. Raguhl was brought into Lavinia's family and was well treated by them. Sparkie is a noble and had a pretty pampered childhood. I don't know about Ulfgar's background (because he doesn't have one ;) ).
Lagaan comes from a background similar to Belessa's, but I think life in the slums for a teenage boy is not has horrible as it is for a teenage girl. :(
I haven't seen enough Xena episodes to know about the evil Xena, but now I wish I did. ;)
Nightal 28th, 1376 (continued)
Silencing the singers
The harpies didn’t end up causing us any actual harm, but their magical songs had the potential to confuse, control and hinder us greatly. Thankfully, the protective spells I had woven around the group provided a good defense. Two of the harpies remained up among the rafters of the tower; the third one flew down toward us, trying to harm us with her song, but she was soon slain by arrows shot from Raguhl’s new giant bow, some from Lagaan’s Nimbus Bow, and Sparkillo’s deadly magic. While this was happening, I cast an Air Walk spell on Ulfgar so he could attack the other two. Small black clouds formed under the soles of his boots, as if the storm magic of Umberlee herself were lifting him above ground. Before he began his ascension toward the other two harpies, though, he mercilessly slaughtered two of the tower’s servants, harmless thralls who were no doubt controlled by the harpies into attacking us. Their bodies exploded into a sickening shower of blood as they were cut down by the dwarven waraxe.
Sparkillo had noticed, just as I had, that two human-sized shapes seemed to be kept within the crystal cage high above us, and he refrained from using any overly destructive spells that could have endangered their lives.
One of the surviving harpies whistled sharply, and a blue dragon suddenly emerged from one of the rooms, squeezing through its opening. It seemed like an impressive foe at first, but I soon realized that it was but an illusion. I communicated this to my allies through our mental link, and then cast a Silence spell around the harpies to prevent them from using their songs or magic. The two bird-women tried to flee through a trap door in the ceiling, but one of them was slain by Sparkillo’s Magic Missiles before she could escape. The other hurried outside, with Ulfgar, who had climbed up by then, following her closely.
Another charmed slave dressed in leather and peacock feathers uselessly attacked Raguhl with a wine bottle, but I quickly knocked him out with the shaft of my trident. Unlike Ulfgar, I saw no need to slay these unfortunate people.
Lagaan showed his great archery skills by shooting the last fleeing harpy through the small opening high overhead, but before we could congratulate him, we were viciously attacked from behind. It seemed that two more assassins of the Seventh Coil had followed us through the streets of Scuttlecove, under the cover of invisibility. Sparkillo had somehow failed to notice them despite his magically enhanced sight, and the two snake-men now appeared behind us. One of their arrows narrowly missed piercing my neck, bouncing off of my armor’s shoulder plate instead, but a second arrow penetrated the side of my torso. The pain was excruciating, but I was still able to act – for now.
At my side, Sparkillo also cried from pain, as three arrows lodged themselves into his body. By some luck of the gods, the elven wizard survived, much to the consternation of the assassins – they had been sure their arrows had pierced his heart.
I immediately cast a Slay Living spell at one of our assailants, but somehow, I missed him. Raguhl and Lagaan drew their blades and attacked the closest Yuan-Ti, but then the other one threw a Bead of Force at our feet, and once again, we were blasted by the explosion of pure energy. I managed to dodge the worst of it, but once again, I was pushed back behind it. I was stuck on the other side of the shimmering globe, away from all of my companions! Aaarrrghhh!!
Raguhl and Sparkillo had gotten caught inside the sphere, which left only the unlucky Lagaan to face off both assassins. I desperately tried to dispel the barrier, as it was completely blocking the door leading to the entrance hall where Lagaan was fighting, but my spell failed just as it had at Red Foam Whaling. I must study these beads and figure out how to counter them more properly.
Fortunately, Sparkillo regained his senses despite the pain, and quickly used his magical powers to shift himself and Raguhl outside the force sphere – and right next to the assassins, to help Lagaan. Even through the impenetrable sphere, I heard Raguhl’s terrible berserker roar. He swung his enormous sword in wide arcs as he unleashed his anger upon the cowardly assassins. The attack was so swift and brutal that the Yuan-Ti were unable to escape it, even by magic: they were soon reduced to bloody carcasses on the floor of the Crooked Tower’s entrance hall.
The rescue
All of our enemies were now dead. Even the unfortunate slave I had knocked out earlier had been slain by the explosion of the Bead of Force. Through the mental link, Ulfgar told us that he had been able to slay the last harpy. He was now chatting with ‘a big horned demon-creature’, which based on his description, we identified as a Horned Devil: one of the most fearsome denizens of Hell. Thankfully, the outsider had no quarrel with us; it had merely wandered nearby out of curiosity, attracted by the sounds of violence.
I healed our wounds while we searched the enemies. They had several potent magical items, chief among which were some rings of protection that Lagaan, Sparkillo and I took. I also grabbed the Bead of Force that remained on the corpse of one of the assassins. It might come in handy some day.
We then began our ascension toward the crystal cage. The dragon illusion had, of course, disappeared. We opened some doors along the way, and in four of the brothel’s rooms, we found some young women lying naked on some beds, waiting for customers in a drug- and magic-induced daze. Further up, we finally reached the crystal cage. Lagaan picked the lock, and we entered. It was surprisingly filthy within. This had surely been the harpies’ nest, but I did not pay much attention to these surroundings, for my heart was beating madly in my chest when I saw the two forms of the prisoners. Both were badly tortured women. One of them, as we had hoped, was Harliss, and the other one, through an incredible stroke of luck, was Brissa!
I was careful at first, fearing another succubus-trick, but no, it seemed to really be my friend!
While I approached the two victims, Brissa, who was barely conscious, feebly looked in my direction and whispered my name. The poor thing, I will never forget the mixture of abject misery and glorious relief that I saw in her eyes at that moment! While I busied myself with healing the two women, my companions found a strange creature in a small cage in a corner. It was most disturbing in appearance, as if a baby had somehow been infected with ghoul fever. Lagaan and Ulfgar tried to interact with it, but it seemed hostile. It claimed it had written some texts on the countless scraps of parchments that littered the filthy floor. Seeing that the monster could not be reasoned with, Lagaan slew it with his mighty Sunblade.
The terrible wounds that Harliss and Brissa had suffered from the Sisters of Lamentation slowly closed as the power of my regenerative magic washed over their bodies. Raguhl gently took care of Harliss while I hugged Brissa against me, kissing her forehead and whispering to her that she was safe. I felt her sobbing softly against me.
Even though she had been more badly wounded, Harliss recovered more quickly than Brissa and wasted no time launching into a series of obscene curses worthy of one who has sailed troublesome seas for many years. She clearly felt a mixture of hatred for her captors and shame at having been bested by them. Nevertheless, she was now safe, and she fully realized that she owed us her life. We were clearly not the bumbling neophytes she had run into in Kraken’s Cove anymore: we were true heroes.
We led the two women into one of the brothel’s bedrooms, where we helped them wash themselves, and gave them some water to sate their thirst. We gave Harliss her equipment back, and we told both of them how and why we had come here, and we also asked them our many questions. They told us their sad stories; as an artist, Brissa’s was charged with dark emotions, while Harliss the pirate captain cursed with every other word, as she seethed with fury toward the Crimson Pirates who had caused her so much harm.
What a coincidence it was, I later realized, that Harliss and Brissa, whom we had both met in Kraken’s Cove, very close to one another, had once again been reunited in this place, after taking so vastly different paths to get there.
Harliss’s story
After she was betrayed by Vanthus and the Crimson Pirates in Kraken’s Cove about a year and a half ago, Harliss sailed back to Scuttlecove to learn more about the menace of the Shadow Pearls and to try to get even with her enemies. During her investigation, she was able to roughly determine the location of the Crimson Pirate base. However, in order to finish her calculations, she would need to recover some papers she had left at Red Foam Whaling. She had been stationed there over the past few weeks, as she had joined the Protectorate recently.
Always on the lookout for rumors, Harliss had learned that the fearsome Crimson Pirates had suffered a decisive and humiliating loss when they had tried to raid a distant village called Farshore. She also learned that a group of adventurers called Trouble had played a pivotal role in the town’s defense. She recognized the name, and decided to try and contact us. She obtained an audience with Tyralandi thanks to the note Zimon had written for her. The mistress of Porphyry House then cast the Dream spell that had reached me a few weeks ago.
Unfortunately, as we already knew, Red Foam Whaling was attacked by the assassins of the Seventh Coil while we were on the way to Scuttlecove. The Yuan-Ti infiltrated the place with skill and magic, easily slaughtering Harliss’s allies. Harliss herself was captured and tortured by the foul snake-men. She claimed to have resisted their torture valiantly, which explained why they had sent her for more thorough questioning here, in the Crooked Spire. Here, too, she had stoically resisted the harpies’ torture. Then, two days ago, another prisoner – Brissa – had been brought in for questioning. Hoping for a more cooperative victim, the wicked harpies had beaten Harliss into unconsciousness, and she had remained in that state since then, until we had saved her.
During her investigation on the Crimson Pirates, Harliss had also discovered the location of one of the bases of the Seventh Coil: it was in an abandoned building that served as a minting house, near the temple of Talos in the northwest part of town.
Brissa’s story
Brissa then told us about Vanthus’s attack on Farshore, but we already knew most of what had happened. We gave her our version as well.
She had later woken up aboard a docked ship. She was being kept in a dark and stinky cell, but somehow, she figured out that she was being kept in the Crimson Pirate base. Among his three pretty victims, she was the first one that Vanthus visited. Understandably, he was surprised that she was actually still alive: in the bastard’s mind, she had perished long ago in Kraken’s Cove, along with the other mutated victims of the broken Shadow Pearl.
Despite Vanthus’s horrific new nature and his powerful mind-controlling abilities, Brissa somehow resisted his questioning. This of course infuriated the villain, who beat her mercilessly.
I was gripped by a powerful tension as I listened to my friend telling me this terrible tale of suffering. Even though she is a strong-willed woman, Brissa was trembling as she related the events of these past few weeks. It had clearly taken her to the edge. I was filled with even more rage toward Vanthus, that accursed Abyss-spawned monster. He had caused so much harm to us, to all of us! I felt a sense of hopelessness as well, for we had already slain him, but that had proved futile in the end. How were we ever going to stop him?
We had to figure out a way. We could not allow him to go on spreading his corrupting evil throughout the world. He had to be punished for what he had done. And this time, we needed to be thorough. He needed to be so utterly destroyed that even Demogorgon, with all his power, would be forever unable to bring him back.
When my sweet Brissa had woken up from the thrashing that Vanthus had inflicted, she had heard him muttering to himself like a madman. He was clearly obsessed in a disturbing way by his sister Lavinia. His ‘love’ for her was not at all brotherly: he lusted after her.
It seemed that Vanthus now wanted to turn his sister into a demonic monstrosity like him. He believed that by going to Lemoriax, the capital of Gaping Maw, he would be able to transform her like this.
I looked into the eyes of my companions, and they all realized the grim implications. Lavinia might suffer the greatest torment of all: her very soul could be corrupted, and she would forever become a fiend like her brother. If that were to happen, we would likely be forced to slay her, to end her misery, and to prevent her from furthering Demogorgon’s apocalyptic schemes as well.
Of course, none were more pained by this turn of events than Raguhl. He had feared for Lavinia’s life, but now, he realized that he had something even worse to worry about.
From what Brissa told us, it seemed that Vanthus was now in charge of the Crimson Fleet. Such is the power of the Death Knight. In addition to the pirates and demons, he now commanded a host of shadows, creatures of pure negative energy that were drawn to him like moths to a flame of utter blackness.
Yet it seemed that even the mighty Death Knight was afraid. He worried that those who had bested him in the past would be able to slay him once again. He knew that Trouble presented a great threat to him. And for this, he had sent Brissa to the harpies, for her to be questioned into revealing our weaknesses.
The barbarian’s wisdom
We continued looting the tower for a while, taking a few more items of value, including a chest of wine bottles that Lagaan insisted on bringing back to the ship. Before leaving, I helped the four dazed whores into some semi-decent clothing; we brought them, as well as the man who had greeted us at the front desk (and who had miraculously survived the fight against the Yuan-Ti) with us back to the Sea Wyvern. I wasn’t sure who these people were, whether we could trust them or not. Human beings are such frail creatures; the countless monsters of the world ceaselessly prey upon our race for food or amusement. It’s really quite a wonder that humankind hasn’t become extinct. But I felt pity for those poor people. I’m not really sure why… Perhaps I was in a charitable mood from having saved Harliss and Brissa. But it cost us nothing to save their lives, really. Why not do it?
Once on board, the men rejoiced upon hearing of our victory, and that we had freed Harliss and Brissa (who was well-loved and respected by the mercenaries). However, they also leered at the whores, eager to bed them, thinking we had brought them back as a reward for them. As much as I cared about my crew, I had no desire for these four women to be subjected to such a treatment. They had already been through too much… I forbade the crew from harming or abusing them. The men grumbled, argued and complained, but I silenced them with a grim stare. Clearly, none of them was brave enough to risk my wrath. Even Lagaan and Ulfgar were unhappy, perhaps considering the four women as part of our spoils of war, but for once, Raguhl supported my decision.
I did, however, give strict instructions for the five people we had rescued to be placed under guard. The charm and drugs would wear off in time, and once they regained their wits, I wanted to make sure these people did not take advantage of our charity. They were scum from Scuttlecove, after all, so I did not have high hopes that they would be trustworthy, or even grateful. But it was worth a try. And who knows, perhaps once they came back to their senses, the women would willingly serve as whores aboard our ship in exchange for protection or a safe passage out of this hellhole. I would respect their decision. Having lived such a miserable life in my early years, I knew quite well how desperate some women were – unfortunate souls born into poverty, with no hopes and no prospects. But I wanted to at least give them the choice to pick their own destiny from this point on.
We spent a few hours on board. I made sure that Brissa and Harliss had everything they needed to begin recovering from their ordeal. I also spoke briefly with Avner. He still conducted himself with quiet dignity. He seemed like a completely different man, and although I greatly appreciated the change, I in fact still feared that this was some sort of villain that had taken the nobleman’s appearance to infiltrate our ship. However, I performed a few magical tests, and they all proved that this was in fact the real Avner. Most strange indeed…
I spent some time tending to the whores we had rescued. Raguhl joined me in one of the rooms and quietly watched me as I worked.
“This is very kind of you, Belessa,” he said after a while. “I just wish we could’ve rescued the other slaves of the harpies that Ulfgar killed during the battle.”
“Yes, that was rather gratuitous of him to kill those poor sods, wasn’t it?” I replied.
Raguhl nodded.
“Perhaps I’m not the only one in this group who’s shrouded in darkness,” I said bitterly, referring to last night’s argument.
“No,” replied the barbarian simply. After a pause, he asked: “Have you reconsidered finishing Kaskus’s healing?”
I gazed into the distance, avoiding Raguhl’s eyes. I hadn’t even gone to check on the dwarf today. I guess I’d had other concerns on my mind. “I haven’t made my decision yet. It’s true that with his tongue, he would be in a better position to tell us about Moretta’s whereabouts.” I paused for a moment, hesitating, but I finally conceded: “I thought a lot about what you said to me last night. You are wise, Raguhl. If I don’t harm Moretta and Tolin, I will really show them what fools they have been all along.”
The lizardman nodded. “Yes. That is the most peaceful solution for all… And through it, you can hope to count Moretta among your friends as you once did.”
“I was just wondering something, Raguhl. You’ve lived among humans for many years now, haven’t you? How has that been for you? Were you sometimes treated as a monster?”
“Yes,” he replied after a short pause. “Some people were afraid of me, in Sasserine.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Sad,” he replied. “And angry, sometimes. They only judged me because of my appearance, not my actions. They were guided by fear.”
“Well, I often feel the same way. I am treated like a monster too, in a way, because of my beliefs.”
Understanding dawned over Raguhl’s face.
“But have I not done a lot of good over the years?” I continued. “Do you see how Moretta and Tolin’s reaction made me feel? Can you understand how deeply it hurt me?”
The lizardman watched me in silence for a long time. I was not sure what his reaction would be. Then, he said: “You are also wise, Belessa. I had not thought of it this way. They were also guided by fear.”
“Yes. I showed many times how much I loved Moretta, how much I cared about her and wanted to protect her. Even though I did not like Tolin, I respected her decision to marry him.”
“Tolin is a fool,” replied Raguhl, and I was pleased to hear a tone of anger in his voice. “He has long lusted after Lavinia, but he is not worthy of her. I do not like him either. You are right, Moretta should not have listened to him. She should have trusted you.”
I nodded.
“Romance is so complicated among you humans,” continued the lizardman with what I interpreted as a smirk on his bestial face. “I don’t understand most of it. Things are much simpler among my kind.”
“How so?”
“Hmm. It’s hard to explain. I was only a child when I left the island… and when I came back, I was a fully-grown warrior… and I became their king. Hmm… I guess I’m not a good example. Of course, now, the women in my tribe seek to be my mate. I have it easy.”
I chuckled. “And for that, you are truly blessed, my dear.”
“Hmm. But what about you, Belessa? Why did you choose Lord Meravanchi as your mate?”
“Why do you think?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. I can think of several reasons, but I don’t know if any of them make sense. As I said, romance among humans is a mystery to me. Lord Meravanchi is a lot older than you, I think, and from what I heard, you are a beautiful human woman; many men consider you to be desirable for mating.”
I laughed again and the lizardman’s lack of subtlety. “Thank you, I think. Well, Manthalay is a very charming man. It’s true that he’s older than me, but he’s still far more handsome than most men half his age. He’s smart, and of course, he’s wealthy. He’s someone that matters. But most of all, he respects me. That counts for a lot. Most people either hate me or fear me. But he’s one of the rare ones who actually appreciate me.”
“That makes sense,” he replied. “Thank you for clearing that up.”
Of course, a deeper analysis of my personality might have pointed out that I had grown up without knowing my father, and that I had previously taken another father-figure, my mentor Stalman Klim, as my lover. But I felt I had shared enough with my reptilian comrade for now. We had other things to do.
The Skindancers
The rest of the day was not terribly productive. Even though we had now freed Harliss and Brissa (a major achievement as far as I was concerned!), we still had much to do in this stinking town. Even the simple act of prioritizing these various actions was daunting. We discussed assaulting the Seventh Coil base at the Minting House, but decided that it had lower priority than some other tasks. Alas, we would later pay a heavy price for that.
And so we wasted some time visiting the temple of Talos (where I was hoping to learn about the fate of Umberlee’s cult in here), only to find the clergy busy performing a storm ceremony. We had no wish to interrupt these maniacs in the middle of their worship. We then made our way to the monastery of Dire Hunger, only to be turned away because we did not have an appointment.
Our next stop was the Skindancer Academy, where we hoped to find information regarding Tyria’s whereabouts. Once again, we were asked if we had an appointment. We couldn’t help but laugh at this ludicrous situation, and as Lagaan pointed out, we could scarcely believe there was such an amount of bureaucracy in this pirate city.
With a little bit of convincing, the receptionist agreed to bring us to her mistress. Like most of the performers in that bard college, she was a halfling. As we walked those halls, though, we saw a few members of other races, most of them humans, but also a bugbear and a naked elven woman whose skin was covered with scars. I made conversation with our little host as we walked the sumptuously-decorated halls. This was truly a magnificent place, but Lagaan and Sparkie, who walked at the back of the group, told us through the telepathic bond that they’d heard the sounds of muffled screams and moans behind a door, as if someone were being tortured. There was definitely an aura of unseen menace about that place…
We were eventually led into the office of the mistress of the academy, a middle-aged but still quite attractive halfling woman named Peryoil Whistlecut. She welcomed us warmly, and was quite charming and helpful on the outside, but as we talked with her, I got the distinct impression that there was something quite disturbing about her. Behind those glittering childlike eyes, I caught a few hints of a sick and violent mind. What’s more, Lagaan later told us he had noticed that her forearms were covered in tiny scars.
Peryoil indeed knew Tyria, who had come to the academy to learn the unusual methods taught there. In order to prove herself, our former companion was told she had to succeed at some difficult challenges, and she had been sent into the ruins of the Ur-Priests’ palace to recover a two-bladed red dagger. Alas, she had never returned.
This did not bode well for out little companion. The ruins were rumored to be quite dangerous, so I feared that by herself, she had likely run into more danger than she could handle. Oh, foolish little Tyria, why didn’t you stay with us?
As we walked back toward the Sea Wyvern, we discussed Tyria’s most likely grim fate; most likely, we would find her tiny little corpse lying somewhere on the cold, dusty floor of that sinister fortress. Only Ulfgar was cheerful at this turn of events: we finally had a reason to venture into those ruins, where the promise of treasure awaited us.
By that time, Harliss had returned to Red Foam Whaling with a few members of the Protectorate to try and locate her papers. We warned them about the gory contents of the place, but they still decided to go without us. According to Harliss, it would take a few days to make sense of them all and locate the Crimson Pirate base for us.
Later that evening, we returned to the Skindancer Academy to watch a show that Peryoil had told us about. Many of Scuttlecove’s “finest” citizens were in attendance, including the dreaded Kedward Bones, who in fact looked much less formidable than his reputation had led us to believe. He was accompanied by an imp and a strange-looking little gnome.
The show itself was at once beautiful and disturbing. The performers danced and sang for our enjoyment, but there was a theme of profound sadness and subtle violence about their art. It seemed like a ceremony to torture in its most beautiful form, and I was left wondering if these bards were in fact worshippers of Loviatar, the goddess of pain. At the climax of the show, one of the dancers, most likely a hapless victim chosen for this purpose, was ritually executed by a thousand cuts within a dizzying dance. Looking at my companions, I saw that Ulfgar enjoyed the bloodshed, but that Raguhl was disgusted and repulsed by it. I found it rather pointless myself: they were causing pain just for the pleasure of causing pain…
Upon our return to the ship, we briefly discussed whether to all sleep within Sparkillo’s magical mansion, or on the ship itself, with a few sentinels. We decided to sleep in the magical space, which was at once more comfortable and safer.
I invited Brissa to share a room with me within the spacious magical palace, for I knew that she would need comforting that night, the first one after her rescue. Indeed, once we were alone in the room, she was able to lower her defenses, and the horrors of the previous days washed over her once again. As I held her in my arms, she sobbed and told me things she had not wanted to reveal in front of the others. Vanthus had not merely beaten her, but he had also tried to rape her. Fortunately, our nemesis had discovered at that point that his powerful undead body had one major limitation: his “fifth limb” remained quite dead and completely limp even in the presence of a beautiful woman like Brissa. There was something amusing about knowing that our dreaded foe suffered of impotence, but it had not been funny for poor Brissa, as it had in fact been that revelation that had caused Vanthus to fly into a terrible rage and to beat my friend senseless.
I hoped that nothing remained in Brissa’s heart of the love she had once felt for Vanthus. Even though he had shown that he had never loved her, that he had been using her from the start, the heart can be a fickle thing, and I hoped that my friend did not have any lingering feelings for this monstrous abomination.
Brissa also told me that she had seen Dolmord in a separate room. He had been gagged, and Vanthus had gone to see him regularly. I felt a heavy weight upon my heart when I heard this: what plan did the villain have for my beloved?
Would he try to turn him into a monster, like he was planning to do to Lavinia?
Was I already too late?
I grimly thought about the future, and steeled myself. I had to be ready to do what needed to be done. If my poor Dolmord had been turned into something monstrous, into a twisted mockery of the man I loved, I would have to be ready to do what needed to be done.
Nightal 29th, 1376
Avenging the wyvern
The next morning started pleasantly, as is always the case when waking up in an otherworldly palace for a breakfast of divine Heroes’ Feast. Sadly, an unpleasant surprise awaited us outside the portal to Sparkie’s mansion.
As soon as we stepped through the gate, we realized that there was something wrong with the Sea Wyvern. The floor seemed to be at an odd angle, there were signs of damage in the hold, and there was a smell of smoke in the air… We quickly climbed on deck and discovered that our vessel was now shipwrecked against the mass of derelict ships at the entrance of the harbor. Our sails had been burned, and some people had caused much damage to the ship in other places as well. It was clear that a band of people had boarded the Sea Wyvern during the night and had tried to destroy it. They had seemingly not expected it to be made of such sturdy stuff, though, and had likely abandoned the idea and had crashed it here instead.
A fury such that I have rarely felt gripped me, yet I did not lose control of my emotions for all to see. I led an investigation to try and determine who had done this – and if any interlopers were still on board. We quickly discovered that they had all left, and that it had apparently been done by some Yuan-Ti. Clearly, those infuriating reptiles were after us, and would continue to hunt us and annoy us relentlessly until we annihilated them utterly.
I had recently lost Penkus, who I had loved so much, and now to see my beloved Sea Wyvern in this state was almost unbearable. A variety of abominable tortures and excruciatingly slow deaths came to my mind as ways to end the existences of those miserable Demogorgon-worshipping snakes. In a perfect world, I would have gotten the opportunity to properly avenge the damage they had caused to my beautiful ship, the inconvenience they had caused all of us, and the humiliation of feeling that my most prized possession had been treated so badly while we had been soundly asleep. But I was aware that most likely, I would have to settle for seeing them be hacked to pieces by Raguhl and Ulfgar, burned to death by Sparkie, or perhaps, if I was lucky, to feel their life essence being obliterated in an instant by one of my own deadly spells.
A few others said that we should have left some men on watch during the night, but I pointed out that it would’ve been totally useless. Those poor souls would almost surely have been assassinated in the dead of the night. Worse, if we ourselves had slept outside the mansion, we might have gotten slain in our sleep. No, in fact, at least we could take comfort in the fact that none of us had been killed.
What was really infuriating, however, was to think back and realize how much time we had wasted yesterday running those pointless errands, when we should’ve struck mercilessly at the Seventh Coil base. They had likely been shadowing us the entire time, plotting for this operation. Well, it was time to turn the tables on them. The hunters would now become the hunted. If we surprised them in their base, they would be a lot less dangerous than when they had attacked us with their cowardly tactics so far. Yes, there would be a bloodbath at the Minting House today…
I decided to leave the Sea Wyvern stranded in that location. I didn’t feel like going through the hassle of freeing it, only to have it raided by a different group of jackasses a few nights from now. We would get it out of there once we were ready to leave Scuttlecove, or we’d steal someone else’s ship. As much as I loved it, it was, after all, replaceable, unlike Brissa, Tyria or even Lavinia. They were the ones that really mattered.
Sparkillo brought us to shore by magic, and we quickly made our way to the Minting House. It looked abandoned at first glance, but we could see a thin tail of smoke coming out of its chimney. We entered it via a Dimension Door; the ground floor was empty and abandoned, but in the basement, behind one of the doors there, we found a group of five human thugs and a Yuan-Ti taskmaster busy at a minting press. They were hard at work producing counterfeit coins.
They looked up as we approached, obviously surprised to see us there.
“Kill them!” hissed the Yuan-Ti as they all reached for their weapons.
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Great entry this week Moonbeam! I really like the discussion between Raguhl and Belessa and I liked seeing the shadow of the good person trapped deep within the priestess.
Thanks! It's also very satisfying for me to follow my natural inclination and portray her good side.
I'm not sure how Belessa and Tristan would get along. I think it would depend on the circumstances. If Tristan was not in a position to be viewed as a threat or a competitor to Belessa, it might work. Belessa would also respect her intelligence, and the fact that the source of her powers is something weird and feared by common folk (like the worship of Umberlee).
If anything, Belessa would at least appreciate Tristan's grace, charisma, feminity and good manners. It gets on her nerves to always be only with men - who only have charismas of 8, 8, 8 and 10...
It's still as awesome as always, Moonbeam! Keep the updates coming. Are you up to date with your posts?
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It's still as awesome as always, Moonbeam! Keep the updates coming. Are you up to date with your posts?
Thanks :)
Yes, I'm up to date. Our next game is in 2 weeks, so unfortunately, the next update will only be in about 3 weeks. :(Maybe you can take a look at my tale of "The Hangman's Noose" in the mean time if you in a reading mood and have some spare time. :)
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Moonbeam,
I just made it through the journal, and this is great, great stuff! Belessa is one of the best characters I've seen in campaign journals, and despite her somewhat depsicable methods, you've done such a good job bringing her to live believably that I'm still rooting for her. Murder isn't that bad, right? :)
Keep up the great work, sir! And if you ever wanted to bring mirror-world Belessa into Golarion, I'm sure there's a spot for your work in Wayfinder or elsewhere.
Now I'm off to check out Hangman's Noose ...
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Moonbeam,
I just made it through the journal, and this is great, great stuff! Belessa is one of the best characters I've seen in campaign journals, and despite her somewhat depsicable methods, you've done such a good job bringing her to live believably that I'm still rooting for her. Murder isn't that bad, right? :)
Keep up the great work, sir! And if you ever wanted to bring mirror-world Belessa into Golarion, I'm sure there's a spot for your work in Wayfinder or elsewhere.
Now I'm off to check out Hangman's Noose ...
Thank you very much for the kind words! Yes, it's a strange thing, isn't it, how we get attached to Belessa despite some of the things she does. Sometimes I take a step back and go: "Woah..." It's a good thing I have Raguhl tugging me back to the other side of the alignment scales. ;)
For sure, I would love to write some material for Golarion. If you're interested in my other stories, I also wrote a journal for the Rise of the Runelords campaign, and one for the first adventure and a half of Legacy of Fire.
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Here's what we can expect in the next update (being written this week):
... Trouble strikes hard against the Seventh Coil.
... We meet a guy who looks strangely like the Emperor in Star Wars.
... Belessa finally learns what happened to Moretta.
... And two members of the group are in for one of the wildest night of their lives at Porphyry House!
Stay tuned...
Moonbeam
Nightal 29th, 1376 (continued)
Bloodbath at the Minting House
Most of us were still climbing down the stairs when the battle began. As is often the case, I was at the rear of the group, so I was the last one to join the action. Lagaan was first to jump into the fray, with Ulfgar following him closely. The rogue’s rapier and Sunblade bit deeply into the flesh of one of the human thugs. Suddenly, our movements increased in speed as Sparkillo cast a Haste spell. Raguhl rushed past the humans, heading straight toward the Yuan-Ti standing behind them, striking the enemy reptile with a powerful blow of his greatsword. The Yuan-Ti seemed not to be an assassin like most of those we had encountered so far, but rather some kind of sorcerer. Its eyes swirled like glowing spirals, and it tried to use its gaze to confound my allies.
Two of the thugs hurriedly drank potions, and a dumbfounded look overcame them when they realized they had failed to turn invisible – my Invisibility Purge had foiled their cowardly plan! A third goon drank a different potion and breathed a stream of fire toward Lagaan, but the young rogue nimbly dodged out of the way. Speaking the words of a dark prayer, I snuffed out the fire-breathing man’s soul with a Slay Living spell, touching his spirit at a distance through the powers I had gained as a Hierophant of Umberlee.
A door opened in the far wall, and a second Yuan-Ti appeared. It quickly cast a deadly spell that unleashed a blast of lightning that hit all of us. Ulfgar was the most badly hit of us all, but it takes more than that to slow down the tenacious dwarf. Between my divine resistance to lightning and the added protection of the Heroes’ Feast, I barely felt the effects of the spell.
Two of the human thugs perished under our warriors’ weapons. Ulfgar roared in victory, dropped his shield, and rushed the lightning-casting Yuan-Ti holding his dwarven waraxe with both hands.
Then, a secret door opened in the wall behind Sparkillo and me, at the base of the stairs. We caught glimpses of a sinister shrine to Demogorgon beyond it, but the view was obstructed by a monstrous construct of stone that stood at the entrance: the animated idol was carved in Demogorgon’s image, and we recognized a Lemorian Golem like the one we had fought in the cursed shrine of Fogmire.
Lagaan hurried to engage this new opponent in combat, and Sparkillo came to his help, summoning a glowing fist of enormous size. I also began summoning some help, but that incantation took longer than Sparkillo’s. The golem, sensing that the elven wizard represented a close threat, captured him in the iron grip of its tentacles. Sparkillo screamed in pain, but his cries were soon joined by others coming from behind me. Thankfully, they were just those of the two Yuan-Ti being butchered by Raguhl and Ulfgar. With so many opponents killed already, the floor was already growing slick with dark blood.
In the shrine behind the secret door, twin screams erupted: another one of those Demogorgon-shaped idols was present there. The howls might have brought fear into our hearts, had we not been blessed by Umberlee with our morning meal. The only surviving thug seemed to lose his will to fight, though, and he approached Raguhl hesitantly, holding his scimitar in a trembling hand. My fiendish dire wolf finally appeared in the shrine, and it attacked the first golem from behind. Alas, it only caused very minimal damage. Not wanting to get too close to the golem myself, I healed Sparkillo at a distance.
Suddenly, I found myself surrounded by lumbering, hairy shapes dressed like monstrous pirates! Four Bar-Lguras had materialized within the room, along with yet another Yuan-Ti. I felt a moment of panic at being amidst so many enemies: would I be slain, or perhaps captured and brought back to the Crimson Pirate base to suffer some horrible treatment at Vanthus’s bony hands?
The newly arrived Yuan-Ti cast a Haste spell of his own on our enemies, so that their speed now matched ours. Sparkillo appeared behind the Bar-Lguras, closer to the two warriors, having used his magic to escape the golem’s grasp. The roaring gorilla-demons began attacking us, each of them attacking a different target among Lagaan, Raguhl, Sparkillo and myself. The melee was a thing of brutal madness, our glowing weapons casting strange shadows throughout the room. Meanwhile, the two remaining Yuan-Ti, the one that had appeared with the Bar-Lguras, and one that was in the hallway at the end of the room, were assaulting my companions with their mind-controlling gaze attacks and the secret nightmares of conjured Phantasmal Killers. Thankfully, none of my allies perished from the deadly spells.
Meanwhile, Sparkillo’s giant translucent fist did a remarkable job of blocking the entrance to Demogorgon’s shrine. The golem was not able to move past it, and kept being pummelled by the ghostly appendage. On the other hand (no pun intended), my fiendish wolf didn’t accomplish much before it was slain by both golems; such summoned creatures are quite useless against the powerful creatures we face now, and it’s clearly a waste of time to even bother casting the spells. I cast a Slay Living at the Yuan-Ti close to me, but it survived with a mere wound. The two warriors came to our help, and within moments, two of the massive Bar-Lguras fell to the floor, hacked to pieces by Raguhl’s merciless sword. Strangely, for once, the barbarian wasn’t even gripped by one of his fierce battle-rages; yet he struck with deadly precision against the demons.
Another Bar-Lgura had turned to attack me, but its eyes suddenly went wide as the tips of both of Lagaan’s blades emerged from its abdomen, having clearly pierced vital organs. The simian demon crumbled to the ground with a painful groan. Just an instant after that, though, a fifth Yuan-Ti appeared in the room by magic, bringing with it the second Lemorian Golem. It had clearly used its magic to come to us, since the shrine’s entrance was blocked by Sparkillo’s fist.
The golem’s twin menacing heads looked left and right as the construct began flailing its stony tentacles around, but before it could cause us any harm, it was struck by a blast of green energy that reduced it to a heap of smoking ashes. It had been utterly disintegrated!
“SPARKILLO!!!” exclaimed our excitable elven comrade.
The only remaining Bar-Lgura growled menacingly as it lunged toward Lagaan, perhaps hoping to grapple him to take him back as a prisoner. However, Lagaan kicked it back forcefully: he would not be taken so easily.
“Nice try, faggot!” he chuckled.
Behind the Bar-Lgura, I caught sight of Raguhl as he rushed toward the Yuan-Ti who had brought the golem into the room. With one fell swoop, he sliced off the snake-man’s head with his huge glowing blade. He then turned toward the Bar-Lgura and began fighting it. Ulfgar had gone into the hallway behind us and was fighting two other thugs who had arrived as reinforcements.
Meanwhile, I was focusing on the last Yuan-Ti in the room, but it resisted another one of my deadly spells, so I began striking it with my trident instead. The creature’s eyes swirled like glowing spirals yet again, and this time, it gained control of Lagaan’s actions. Before I realized what he was doing, Lagaan circled around me and struck me by surprise through a gap of my armor. I felt the sting of his holy rapier as it penetrated in my flank. Damn, that thief sure knows how to fight dirty, I never saw the blow coming!
I knew I had to focus on a spell despite the pain, for the next few moments might be my last if I failed to act quickly enough. But should I focus on Lagaan, the Yuan-Ti, or should I simply heal myself to stay alive?
Thankfully, the choice proved easy to make. The Yuan-Ti who controlled Lagaan was bleeding from many wounds it had taken from Lagaan’s blades and my trident. It produced a scroll and tried to read it, no doubt to escape by magic, but I seized the opportunity and pierced it with my trident while it was distracted. Its eyes turned glassy and it slithered to the floor. I turned to protect myself in case Lagaan still acted hostile, but no, he lowered his weapons and blinked a few times, shaking off the magical domination. Then, a mixture of shame, surprise and amusement crept over his face once he realized what he had done to me.
Meanwhile, Raguhl wrestled with the last Bar-Lgura for a few moments before pushing it away and gutting it with his greatsword. The creature collapsed to the ground in a heap of bloody fur.
Most of our enemies were now dead: there remained only one Yuan-Ti in the opposite hallway (whom Ulfgar had not attacked, strangely enough), and the golem that was fighting Sparkie’s magical fist. Ulfgar refused to engage the Yuan-Ti in battle, instead running back into the room to go fight the golem. Raguhl headed the other way and rushed the Yuan-Ti, with Lagaan following him closely. The barbarian struck the snake-man with his sword, and Lagaan shot a few arrows, but before they could slay it, the Yuan-Ti vanished after reading a scroll.
A moment later, Ulfgar finished off the Lemorian Golem. “Hey, where did my friend go?” he asked confusedly when he realized the last Yuan-Ti was now gone. He had clearly been charmed by the reptile.
Sparkillo smiled at him, even though he was shivering from the effects of a Phantasmal Killer he had barely survived. “It seems your friend left you behind, my poor Ulfgar. Perhaps he wasn’t such a great friend after all.”
The dwarf looked positively miserable. “Yeah… Maybe not…”
Bone’s servant
Things were quiet at last – what a furious fight it had been! In total, we had slain six human thugs, four Yuan-Ti sorcerers, two Lemorian Golems and four Bar-Lguras. During the battle, we had heard the sounds of reinforcements from the ground floor, but they had never showed up: they had likely been more worthless thugs who had fled from the effect of the Lemorian Golems’ horrible howls, or perhaps because they’d heard that their allies were getting slaughtered.
As I healed our wounds, Lagaan apologized for harming me. Once again, I could sense that he felt at once amused at having gotten the chance to strike me with the perfect excuse of having been magically controlled, and also slightly worried about what my reaction would be. Honestly, I felt really annoyed at having once again been the target of his attack. It was not the first time it had happened. Why me, I wondered? Was it really a coincidence?
A number of responses flashed within my mind for an instant after Lagaan delivered his apology, ranging from merely yelling at him to inflicting pain in retaliation for his attack; an eye for an eye if you will. But of course, none of those responses would have been constructive toward maintaining an efficient and cordial team spirit within Trouble. Instead, I decided to play it cool:
“It’s all right, Lagaan,” I said with a shrug. “It wasn’t the first time you stabbed me in the back, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. It didn’t even hurt that much, I’m sure it would’ve been much worse if I’d been attacked by a real threat like Raguhl or Ulfgar.“
“BURN!!!” said Sparkillo, wincing as he waved his hand at Lagaan in mock pain.
It was a lie, of course, because in the right conditions, Lagaan can be truly deadly by focusing on the weak spots of his opponents – that’s his specialty. If he wanted to, he could surely join the ranks of an elite group of assassins. But I was not about to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging how much pain he had caused me. My words had the desired effect: they wiped the hint of a grin from his face, and we were able to focus on the serious business of looting the corpses of our fallen enemies.
We found some gold pieces in the minting room – some of the coins were real, some were counterfeit, but we took them all nonetheless. We also looted many magical or otherwise valuable items from our enemies. The Seventh Coil had not only been powerful – they had also been rich. This had likely not been their main base, but we had struck a decisive blow against them. I sincerely hoped that some of the scum-suckers that now lay dismembered at our feet had been among those who had snuck aboard the Sea Wyvern last night and caused all of the damage. It would mean that justice had been served. Among the scrolls we found on the reptilian sorcerers were some of teleportation and protection against scrying… I wondered if those had been used to travel to the Crimson Pirate base, and perhaps to help protect the base from scrying. Indeed, none of my earlier attempts to spy on our captive friends or on Vanthus had succeeded.
We searched all the rooms in the building. Some were used for storage of goods, others were meant to serve as cells, but only one contained a prisoner: he was a filthy, almost comatose human. He didn’t seem to be aware of our presence at all. We left him there for the moment as we continued our search.
The fleeing thugs had left the entrance door ajar, and a few curious bystanders were milling around the building; they had surely been alerted by the sounds of fighting they had heard inside but a few minutes before.
Raguhl showed his reptilian head through the opening. “Can’t you see we’re closed, you dimwits?” he roared menacingly. “This building belongs to the Seventh Coil! Now beat it or we’ll take you in as merchandise!”
The shrine of Demogorgon held little of interest besides two pedestals upon which had surely stood the golems, and a crude altar. However, Sparkillo spotted another secret door in the room, and Lagaan opened it, disabling the glyph of warding that had been placed on it with his truly masterful technique of triggering it and then dodging out of the way at the last moment. Beyond the door, a crude tunnel led toward the northwest; perhaps it led outside Scuttlecove, we thought?
While we were discussing whether to investigate it or not, we heard the soft sounds of a few people approaching down the stairs. We prepared ourselves for battle, but the four dark-robed figures that entered the room were not reinforcements of the Seventh Coil: they were monks from the order of the Dire Hunger.
“Our Master wishes to see you,” rasped one of them.
After a brief telepathic discussion amongst ourselves, we thanked them and informed them that we would visit the monastery later today.
After the monks left, we finished searching the building. We had decided not to venture into the secret tunnel yet, but I wanted to question the prisoner. Using my most potent healing spell, I cleansed the poor man of his drug-induced daze and of the wounds his tormentors had inflicted upon him. His eyes widened in amazement when he realized that he had been saved by some heroic-looking people, and he thanked us suitably. Underneath the thick layer of grime that covered him, I could tell that he was a rather handsome man, and he seemed to have good manners and a good deal of personal magnetism as well.
He introduced himself as Krazol Durodan, and claimed that his master, Kedward Bone, was also an enemy of the Seventh Coil. We didn’t tell him our names, but we introduced ourselves as Trouble and told him we were opposed to the Seventh Coil and the Crimson Pirates. We told him we had heard of his master’s reputation, and that we had no quarrel with him; indeed, we were glad to count him among the enemies of our enemies. Krazol assured us that he would put in a good word for us.
We decided to escort him back to Kedward Bone’s tower: I didn’t want him to risk getting attacked in the dangerous streets of Scuttlecove. Ulfgar grumbled a bit at this “waste of time” as he saw it.
“We’ve got more exciting things to do than this,” he said. “I hope you’re not growing soft on me, Belessa. Why are you being so charitable all of a sudden?”
“Ah, but as you know, my dear Ulfgar, compassion has always been greatest weakness.”
After a few minutes, we reached Bone’s tower, which was guarded by a monstrous feline that shifted in and out of view under the light of day: a Hellcat. Krazol thanked us again for everything we’d done, and he entered the tower.
The Monastery of Dire Hunger
Instead of returning to the Minting House to explore the secret tunnel, we decided to go to the Monastery of Dire Hunger. Lagaan hoped to learn clues about his father’s identity and location at that place: one of my latest divinations from Umberlee had pointed to that dangerous place.
Two sinister monks stood guard outside, and they let us enter without a word. Inside, the layout looked like a regular monastery of black stone, except that a huge slab of stone covered the top of the courtyard that would’ve been open in a regular monastery. Perhaps this had been done to prevent flying enemies from attacking from above. The walls were only pierced by murder holes, not windows, and the place was only very dimly lit. It was damp, foul-smelling, and every surface seemed to be crawling with vermin. We were definitely not comfortable in this place, and Sparkillo put on his necklace of adaptation so he wouldn’t have to suffer the abominable smell. Yes, Lagaan is truly fortunate to have companions like us who would go with him into places like this as he searches for his roots.
A monk gestured for us to follow him. With a shiver of disgust, I noticed that there was no flesh on the tips of his fingers. He led us down a steep stairway; several curtains of dead-looking vines barred the way, but they moved by magic to let us pass. I was sure that they represented some kind of magical defence.
“This place is very quaint,” remarked Sparkillo.
We finally reached a great hall, surely the central chapel of the monastery. It was decorated with carvings of suffering humans. Despite the absence of any trees, dead leaves covered the ground, but most disturbing of all were the statues. There were many of them scattered throughout the temple. The fact that they looked highly realistic obviously led us to conclude that they were in fact unfortunates who had been petrified. Most were human thugs or pirates, but there were also a few members of other races, such as an ogre and a few halflings (none of which were Tyria), as well as two beings that seemed to be Dire Hunger monks.
We walked further ahead into the cavernous hall. Our footsteps echoed against the far walls. At the opposite end of the chapel was a throne placed on a dais. Upon this seat of dark stone sat a figure shrouded in a hooded black robe. Its face was hidden in shadows. The being appeared frail physically, but we sensed a great power within him.
“Come closer,” croaked the elder monk on the throne.
Once we were close enough to the throne, the mysterious figure welcomed us. He seemed to know us already, and knew that we had fought the Seventh Coil. This seemed to please him; apparently, the Yuan-Ti had many enemies in Scuttlecove. But there was something disturbing about this man: I heard his words not in the common tongue, or even the Chultan dialect that’s frequently used by humans native to this part of Faerun, but in Chondathan, my native tongue, the one that is spoken in my homeland on the Dragon Coast, far to the north. Yet my companions also understood him, and we later realized that he had, somehow, been speaking to each of us, not by telepathy, but truly by using each of our native languages simultaneously: Elven for Sparkillo, Draconic for Raguhl, Dwarven for Ulfgar, and Chultan for Lagaan.
“Old one, we’ve come to you for answers,” finally said Lagaan.
“And what is it that you seek?” asked the black-robed man.
Lagaan then told him that he had grown up without knowing his father and that a divination of Umberlee had previously led us to a place on the Island of Dread where he would have been able to learn about his father’s identity. Unfortunately, Thorgiff, the tiefling who could have revealed such information had been reduced to a pile of ashes by an overeager wizard before a discussion could take place. He turned to glare at Sparkie, who looked positively bored and was idly playing with his ioun stone.
“Belessa then had another vision from Umberlee that told us to come here and to meet you,” continued Lagaan. “Do you know my father?”
“Indeed, I met your father,” replied the old man. “The last time I saw him, he was in the Ur-Priest’s palace, more specifically, in a location called the Observatory of the Unseen Sky, situated in the very bowels of the palace. No one has been there in years…”
“But… how long ago was that?” asked Lagaan with an edge of excitement in his voice. “Is he still alive? If so, he could be anywhere by now.”
“In the Observatory of the Unseen Sky, you will find more information about your father.”
“Can you tell me more about him? What’s his name?”
“I knew him as Arafern Rakalvanis,” announced the old man. “You will have to venture to the Observatory of the Unseen Sky to learn more. The dark dungeons below the palace can be reached by many pathways, most of which are deemed to be… unnaturally dangerous. But I know a safer way inside, young one, for I was once an ally of the Ur-Priests. “
A pause in the conversation indicated that, of course, such information would not be given freely.
Lagaan got the hint. “What would you like in exchange for this information, ancient one?” he asked.
“I want something that can be found on that level of the ruins. It is a book with a special rune on the cover.” The black-robed man then showed us a scroll upon which was drawn a strange symbol which contained an inverted pyramid and a skull.
“Maybe we could get more quests like this from other people in the city,” mused Ulfgar, “and grab all their stuff in one run. Then we could get all the rewards for them!”
The old man’s black hood turned as if to fix the greedy fighter. “The ruins of the palace are both vast and deadly, even for adventurers such as you. The level of the Observatory in particular is known as the Halls of Artefacts, but know that most items kept within are cursed with the foulest sort of magic. Trust me, master dwarf, when I say that you would not want to come into possession of any of those ensorcelled items.”
Ulfgar glowered at the old man.
“Now listen well,” continued the ancient one, “for here is the way to reach the Observatory: ascend to the highest tower of the palace. Be sure to protect yourself against lightning before you reach that destination. There, you will find an ancient stone archway. Using a medallion I will give you, you will be able to open a portal that will lead to the Room of Doors. It is guarded by an ancient and powerful creature of magic. This sentinel will surely attack you, and you will need to defeat it. Assuming you survive, you will have access to the many doors in the room. The one you must go through, the one that will lead you to the Observatory, to the knowledge you seek about your father, and to my book, is the one numbered B13. Beyond this door… lie the Halls of Insanity.”
We all cast increasingly dirty looks in Lagaan’s direction. Finding out about his father wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.
“All right, so let me get this straight,” said Sparkillo. “We’re supposed to go into these dangerous ruins, somehow make our way to the top of the highest tower, face a terrible magical monster, venture into this hall of insanity, then walk through a place filled with cursed artefacts we can’t touch… Anything else?”
“Past all of these obstacles lies the Observatory of the Unseen Sky. It is there, and only there, that young Lagaan will find clues of his father’s whereabouts. But remember, once there, you must also find my book. And don’t try to trick me…
The old man finally stood up from his throne, approached toward Lagaan and gave him a medallion with the same skull-and-pyramid symbol. He also extended his hand toward Lagaan. It was a truly foul appendage, corpse-like and writhing with maggots. While the rogue was staring at it with trepidation, wondering if he was supposed to shake it, the old one touched him. Lagaan seemed to shiver from the contact, but he wasn’t hurt. After a moment, I realized had happened.
“The touch of a powerful Monk can bring death,” I explained telepathically. “You have just been marked by the Quivering Palm, my poor Lagaan. This old freak can now decide to kill you at a distance if he wishes to. He just marked you to ensure you didn’t try to cheat him out of his precious book.”
The rogue replied with a telepathic curse of exasperation.
Raguhl growled at the old man’s treachery. He did not appreciate Lagaan’s life being threatened like this. “Lagaan, you’re my friend,” he said through the mental link, “and I want to help you find out about your father, but Lavinia’s life is in great danger… I dare not wait much longer to rescue her.”
Lagaan nodded. After all, the life of his beloved Liamae was also in the balance. “How much time do I have, old one? We came to Scuttlecove for other reasons too. We want to oppose not just the Seventh Coil, but also the Crimson Fleet. I would prefer to venture into the ruins of the palace only once those enemies dealt with.”
The old one remained silent for a moment, and then took back his medallion and gestured toward Lagaan, hopefully freeing him of the Quivering Palm.
“Then the hourglass shall not be turned yet,” he rasped. “Come back to me once you are ready.”