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Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
When we first started in Spring of 1999, none of my players had much experience with AD&D, so the prologue was run with minimal prep time, using a pre-published adventure adapted from the game world of Talislanta. It sets the stage for the rest of the storyhour, and I trust you'll be pleased to learn that this will probably be the longest of any of the posts you'll see.
We gamed from Spring of '99 until summer of 2000, when Jessie decided she wanted to run Savannah Knights. Sorry, I just wanted to tell you how impressed I am with Jessie's DMing skill since she'd only been a player for just over 1 year.
Now I'm done setting up the story. I hope you enjoy the prologue, and don't worry. Most of the posts won't be this long. Oh, and if you read the Savannah Knights storyhour (which I played in), then hopefully you'll like this one also.
Dramatis Personae:
Hera “Harley” Fyana—1st level Vaneljesti Elvish thief (2nd edition) or 1st level Vaneljesti Elvish bard (3rd edition), played by Jessica Jones
James T. Rocket—1st level half-Innenlesti Elvish fighter, played by Nic Bumpus
Cast of Thousands—played by the DM, RangerWickett
The Magical Fair of Lyceum is one of the few times when magic-users are able to freely share and display their talents to the world. The Arcane Academy, located in the Nozama Empire capital city of Lyceum, hosts the Magical Fair every seven years to attract all sorts of magicians, sorcerers, spiritualists, shamans, and charlatans for the purpose of delighting in the powers of magic. Lyceum grudgingly allows the festival because of the trade it brings in, though the average citizen must for decency’s sake hide his or her interest in attending the fair.
Vendors hawk their wares, talismancers charm and protect the superstitious, wizards sell their knowledge, and magi of all sorts dazzle audiences with performances ranging from the acrobatic to the militant. Amid the throngs of thousands who exhibit or attend the festival, tensions are often high, so the Arcane Academy makes sure to hire fair guards that can blend showmanship with their duty to protect the peace. Many are attracted by the promise of easy payment for simply breaking up the occasional fight, since the Academy mages handle all sorcerous disruptions, but some fair guards participate because of curiosity. Unlike the typical atmosphere of the Nozama Empire, Lyceum’s Magical Fair openly welcomes non-humans, mostly just because many fair-goers can’t tell the difference between the genuine and the illusory.
The Fairkeepers know that the crowds like spectacles, so hiring privileges go first to those with dazzling looks, and next to those with dazzling skills. Somewhere further down the line comes the need for cheap muscle. In the interest of balance, the Fairkeepers usually assign pairs together that can complement each other. Such is the case with one of the most distinctive pairs of fair guards.
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The fifth night of the week-long fair, a theft occurred in a merchant’s stall. The chief fairguard assigns two of his most productive and popular guards so far to handle the investigation.
James T. Rocket stands out in the crowd in nearly every imaginable way, so most of the festival-goers assume he’s somehow magically costumed. Nearly six-and-a-half feet tall, James dresses in well-worn yet still gleaming chainmail, covered with simple yet fashionable clothes. He wears a longsword and a shield, and has already garnered a reputation at the fair by cutting off the leg of a thief who tried to steal wares from a magic shop. The cost to pay for the girl’s healing was taken from James’ wages. James has pure white hair and purple irises, and the slant of his eyes and slightly pointed ears indicate him as a half-Elf. He looks almost perpetually bored, except for when talking to his fellow guard and new friend, Harley.
Harley stands out just as easily, though in vivid contrast with James. Barely over five feet tall, Harley’s unearthly grace and slender form mark her unmistakeably as an Elf. She normally attempts to hide her pointed ears under her red-brown hair, but at the festival she basks in the surprised gazes of the fair-goers. Her skill at prestidigitation, which she’ll gladly display to anyone who seems interested, has convinced most of the normal citizens of Lyceum that Harley must be a disguised sorceress. That doesn’t stop men from staring at her immodestly and women from staring at her jealously.
Their superior assigns James and Harley to check out the scene of the crime, a pavilion stall called “The Burning Sky” (a reference to an ancient magical torch), owned by a man named Arjan Thembool. The shop specializes in light-generating and sun-motif merchandise, magical or mundane in nature, and Harley and James arrive, appropriately, right at sunrise.
Arjan Thembool is from Kequalak, a northern nation generally disliked in Nozama, but neither James nor Harley are locals, so they listen to the man without prejudice. Arjan explains that he arrived about an hour before sunrise to get ready for the fair’s opening when he discovered that his stall had been vandalized during the night. He’s angry, but not hysterical, but he seems to grow frustrated by James’ lack of emotion. James cooly asks for the merchant to tell them everything that’s out of order.
Arjan takes them inside his pavilion as the first of the day’s fairgoers begin to filter into the festival. A moat surrounds the entire festival field, with only one bridge allowing entrance. Arjan’s pavilion is exactly opposite of the bridge, located on the far side of the fair, right next to the moat, so it will be a few minutes before any customers arrive.
The merchant holds the flap of the tent open for Harley to enter first, and she stops in surprise at the brightness of the interior. Hundreds of small curios shed soft white glows, contributing to filling nearly the entire tent with light. Only one far corner is dimmed in shadow. As Harley, James, and Arjan walk into the tent, Harley comments that he was just asking to be robbed, since his must have been the only shop that was lit up last night. He made it easy for the thieves. Arjan frowns at this, and gets back to business, pointing out what was damaged or stolen. A faint murmuring fills the room, and Harley glances around for its source while Arjan explains the theft.
Almost all the damage took place in the darker corner of the room, where most of the light-shedding objects are broken or missing. The first was a tiny clockwork Dragon that breathed illusory flames every hour; its head and neck were ripped apart, and the rest of its gears lay strewn across the floor. A rack of Tundanesti Elvish scimitars, all enchanted to glow dimly, was knocked onto the floor. Arjan had a vase filled with glowing fluid set atop the rack, so it is shattered also, and a hideously smelling gunk has tarnished the scimitar blades and ruined an elaborate carpet on the floor. Additionally, the rug has been slashed repeatedly, all the strokes going the same direction. Numerous other small objects fell onto the floor when the rack was knocked over, but nothing of value.
The only object that appears to have been stolen was an amberglass sphere, roughly a foot across, filled with an alchemical gas called Yellow Peril. The poisonous gas is primarily used to kill vermin, but because it has a side effect of faint luminesence, Arjan owned a sphere of it for his shop. He knows of how dangerous the gas is (if the sphere broke it would easily kill anything within 20 feet), but the amberglass sphere it contained within is sturdy enough to resist shattering while dropped. As an added precaution, he even had anti-theft enchantments placed upon it for the duration of the fair, so he would know if it left the fairgrounds. Whoever the thieves are, they haven’t gone far.
While Harley and James discuss who they need to talk to as far as figuring out who’d want to steal the sphere and why, and whether it would’ve been possible to remove the anti-theft enchantment, the murmuring in the room grows louder. Arjan raises his voice slightly and suggests that they should leave, since obviously one of his magical wares is going awry, but James waves him off. The two guards scour the shop for the source of the noise, and they finally pinpoint it as coming from overhead, from an unlit lantern. James climbs onto an unsturdy table and reaches for the lantern.
He opens it, and sees inside a small, shrunken head. A shrunken Goblin head, its eyes shut and skin taut. As soon as he sees the lantern, however, the murmuring stops, and James looks down to Harley and shrugs. He begins to unlatch the lantern from the top of the tent, when suddenly the shrunken head’s eyes snap open and it shouts with a grin, “Boo!”
James doesn’t startle, and though the head begins to giggle at its joke, it looks at James and pouts with a high-pitched voice, “I was scared.”
James glares at the little decapitated talking head in boredom, then glances down to Harley. He notices that Arjan has just slipped out of the tent, and so he shouts for Harley to follow the man. Harley sprints out the back flap of the tent, leaving James to clamber down in his heavy chainmail.
Harley slips through the tent flaps, stopping only inches away from the edge of the fair’s moat. Glancing in either direction, she sees Arjan running away toward the nearest tent. She shouts for him to stop, then hurls at him Ricochet, her chakram (a thin, aerodynamic ring that spins like a combination axe-boomerang; i.e., the thing that Xena uses). Arjan turns at the last moment and tries to avoid the chakram by leaping out of its way. In so doing, he plunges face first into the moat.
Harley, not quite used to being part of a team, leaps after Arjan without telling James where she went. The moat is only ten feet deep, but is easily 30 feet across, so it takes much hassle to pummel Arjan into submission and drag him back to shore. When Harley reaches the edge of the moat, James reaches down and pulls the merchant up, letting his Elvish co-worker get out herself.
Harley, soaking wet, laments that she just lost her only good weapon—the chakram splashed into the moat. She takes out her frustration on Arjan by trying to interrogate him, but the merchant won’t say why he ran. Finally the head, which James is carrying in his free hand, gibbers out, “I’m illegal!”
James and Harley recall that yes, shrunken head fetishes like these are illegal. They trap the spirit of the deceased in its body, creating a minor form of undead. Of course, the Goblin head seems to be enjoying being just a head. It gabs gaily, eyes closed but with a stupid grin on its lips. In a high pitched voice it sings about how it likes fish, and that it’s really dark.
They interrogate Arjan a little longer and get him to admit that he was smuggling in the head to trade to some necromancers. Harley and James discuss what to do, and realize that the head is the only real witness to the crime. It was, afterall, in the tent all last night, so it must have at least heard what was going on during the robbery. They ask it what happened the night before, and it just moans and says that it has a head ache. They decide to take Arjan in first and ask their superior what to do about the head and the stolen Yellow Peril. James, being the stronger of the two, takes Arjan. Harley, meanwhile, stays behind to make sure no one vandalizes the shop. She keeps the head with her so she can try to ask it questions, and so she can dry off without being stared at by half the festival.
While waiting for James to return from the main guardhouse, Harley pries around inside Arjan’s tent to see what else he might have been smuggling in. She doesn’t find anything particularly incriminating, but decides that Arjan owes her for making her jump into the moat, and for causing her to lose her chakram. Thus, she turns the head so it can’t watch her, then pockets a few gold trinkets to make up the difference.
Still waiting for James, she turns a few customers away and spends her time chatting with the head. It can’t remember its name, or how it ended up decapitated, but it mentions repeatedly that it likes fish, and that it wishes that it had some fish. Maybe she could take him to get some fish? Harley declines, and instead tries to ask it who the thief was.
The Goblin head replies, “I heard legs. . . . Lots of legs. I don’t have any legs. Aww. I kinda wish I had legs. Lots of legs. Tick tick tick and a drip drip drip. Tick drip tick.”
The Goblin also chatters about how wet it is. Harley threatens to throw the head into the moat if it doesn’t answer straight, and it replies that it still has a really bad head-ache, but it really hopes she won’t throw him away. He likes talking to her.
Finally, fed up that James is taking so long, Harley pops the head into a satchel and carries it with her as she tromps back to the main guard tent. There she discovers that James doesn’t remember a thing about the head, or about Arjan attacking them. In fact, about a minute or so after leaving Harley and the head, James just let Arjan go. Harley unsuccessfully tries to jog James’ memory, but he suddenly remembers everything as soon as the head begins jabbering again. Feeling somewhat nervous, they put the head back in the bag and talk to their superior.
Their superior is nervous and suggests that the vandalism must have been to cover the theft of the Yellow Peril. They tell him about the head and ask if he wants it, but the head begins blathering that it doesn’t want to go, that it’s not safe, and that it thinks that the darkness inside Harley’s back is so nice and cozy and dark and quiet and ticking and dripping and dark and fishy.
Needless to say, their superior tells them to keep the head.
At his orders, they head out to an alchemist’s shop not too far away. One of the few permanent structures in the fair, it’s a three-story tower where mages from the Arcane Academy display and sell alchemical and magical potions, balms, and oils. Their new mission is to find out about the Yellow Peril and see if anyone in particular would have reason to steal some. They wisely decide to keep the head under wraps, but as they try to enter the alchemist’s pavilion, they get stopped by actual sorcerous security.
(The Magical Fair is both a festival for entertainment, and the convention in which the new president of the Lyceum wizard’s guild is chosen. Throughout the festival, high-ranking members give speeches, engage in spellcraft duels, and generally vie for supremacy. On the sixth day, today, a debate is held with the key contenders, and the winner of the debate has a good chance of being elected.)
Since this is the day that most of the high ranking guild members will be at the fair, the wizards are being extra cautious not to let people cause trouble. The gate guard at the pavilion asks for proof of their employment as guards, and after they give it to him, he begins to review it. The Goblin head begins to chatter, muffled from within the bag, and Harley quickly leans over, opens the bag, and says (a bit too loudly), “Shut up, head!”
The alchemist tower guard looks up and asks what Harley just said. In a stammering explanation, Harley explains that . . . um, yeah, this is my friend . . . ‘Head,’ and she gestures to James.
The wizard seems skeptical, so James adds in that Harley’s nickname is ‘Bottom.’ “Old nicknames from our time together at the academy.”
Then from the satchel comes a high-pitched voice, “He’s Head. She’s Bottom.” Harley quickly impersonates the Goblin’s voice to prove that it was her all along, and they bluff their way into the tower. Within, they go to the third floor laboratory to talk to some alchemists and researchers. They talk to several wizards, all of whom say they’ll get the information that Harley and James want, and will be right back. But none of them come back. Curious, they talk to one of the alchemists they’d already seen, but he doesn’t remember seeing them before. Frustrated, James writes the man a note to carry and read repeatedly. The alchemist shrugs and takes the note, heading off to get the information they want.
Since they imagine it’ll be some time before the wizard gets back, they head downstairs and back into the main festival, hoping to get something to eat while they wait. It’s mid-morning, and they’re hungry.
As they walk around the festival, checking at different stalls for food, they notice that a lot of people seem to have head-aches. When Harley asks the Goblin shrunken head fetish if it has a head-ache, it says yes and moans a little bit. It mutters that it’s hungry too, and that it wants fish, so maybe they could look in the moat for fish. James tells it forcefully no, and so the head resentfully shouts “He’s Head! She’s Bottom!” until they cram a cloth into its mouth to gag it.
Oddly, few people seem to notice this spectacle, and none seem to care for more than a moment. Harley and James get some food, then decide to check to see if Arjan might be back at his stall. Harley wagers that he’s forgotten about them entirely.
They do find him at his stall, but he hasn’t forgotten about them. Instead, he remembers them helping him with moving some items he accidentally dropped on the floor. The man doesn’t recall a theft at all, though. Deciding that maybe Arjan not remembering them is a good thing, Harley asks him about where he’s been lately, and whether any of his goods are missing, and who he was planning to sell to. At this point, Arjan does get nervous, but Harley pretends to think he’s just worried about scaring off customers. Using her charm, she manages to get Arjan to say that he had been asked by some Dwarves to bring some goods into the city.
Remembering their initial tour of the festival, they know that there is a small group of evangelical Dwarves in one of the least-visited corners of the festival, but rather than pursuing that lead immediately, they bid Arjan good day and go talk to their superior again. Consistent with the trend, the man doesn’t remember even sending them to investigate a robbery this morning, but for some reason he is curious about whether they found anything interesting. The whole time they talk to him, he emphasizes the word ‘head’ whenever it crops up in a sentence, and he seems to get angry just saying the word. Thankfully the gag is still working, so the Goblin head can’t reveal itself.
Wanting to get away from their superior before he finds out about the head, they quickly ask a few questions about Dwarves. Since Dwarves aren’t typically wizards, most Dwarves who attempt to rent a stall at the Magical Fair have to have all their gear inspected minutely by Academy officials. After they leave the main guardpost, Harley and James discuss that maybe the Dwarves needed something, but knew they couldn’t smuggle it in themselves, and thus hired Arjan to bring it in for them.
Their last task before going to check out the Dwarves is to return to the alchemists’ tower in the vain hope that perhaps someone found information for them. The guard at the door to the tower (the same one as last time) is belligerent to them for no good reason, just saying that he dislikes all these non-magic-using rabble. Harley decides to bribe him so they can get in without trouble, and they end up waiting on the third floor for someone to speak to them. Most of the wizards in the tower have head-aches, and a few just stare blankly at books, not turning a page in over five minutes.
Glancing around cautiously, James and Harley ungag the Goblin and ask it what the hell is going on. Harley tries to be very soothing with it, promising that they’ll find a way to give him a fish if only he’ll help them out.
It whimpers and says, “You can’t wait, can’t wait, since she’s hid away with a mate. It . . . it wetly ponders . . . and coldly wonders. A darkness . . . and a tick tick tick, in a drip drip drip.” The Goblin sobs, its voice filled with pain as it struggles to finish. “Medals and prizes, medals and prizes. Who will mourn for . . . medals and-”
A wizard comes up behind them and cuts off the Goblin shrunken head. He stares at the little head in wonder, saying that he’s amazed that they have one. He’s never seen one before. He asks if he can take a look at the head very briefly. Harley and James cautiously agree, with the conditions that they always stay within view of the head, and that afterward this wizard will get them some info on Yellow Peril.
The wizard joyfully walks them into a laboratory, carrying the head and prying at it with his fingers. He tells them all he knows about Yellow Peril, including a rudimentary explanation of why it glows. While the wizard talks to them, he puts the head on a countertop to better examine it. The shrunken Goblin head has stopped talking and is just whimpering now, and the two guards are too fed up to really care until they both see the alchemist picking up a glass vial filled with fluid. While still happily chatting with his two guests, the wizard up-ends the vial over the fetish, dumping the fluid on it.
The shrunken head screeches in agony and starts to sizzle, and James and Harley leap forward to stop the wizard from melting the head with acid. James tackles the scrawny alchemist, and Harley snatches up the slowly-dissolving head and splashes it with all the water she’s carrying. James quickly tests a large pitcher to make sure it’s water, and then he throws it onto Harley and the head to wash off the acid. Harley ends up burning her hands slightly, but thankfully the acid was a relatively mild one, so neither she nor the head are permanently damaged. Just wet.
James is about to pummel the alchemist into a pulp for trying to ‘kill’ the undead head, when Harley shouts a warning. A stream of flame flashes across the room, searing the far wall and cracking a large glass window with the heat. Harley and James look up to see about a half-dozen wizards striding into the room, all preparing to cast spells. The small crowd blocks the only stairway down.
Harley desperately throws a few vials of funky potions and liquids at the wizards, and then she and James (and the head) make a break for the window. James smashes it apart with his sword, and they both clamber through and leap down. Since the tower is slightly tapered toward the top, they are able to slide to the ground with minimal injury, and once back on their feet they sprint away out of sight of the wizards. James is about to go into a rant about how all the wizards in the city must be out to kill them when the Goblin head starts screaming and whimpering again. Looking around, they see that everyone who can see the head is walking toward them slowly, malevolently.
Harley stuffs the gag back in the Goblin’s mouth to shut it up, and James slams the tiny head back into the satchel. And then they run again, James bum rushing into and knocking down a few scrawny teenagers who were blocking their way.
Once out of sight of the angry mob, they find a shopkeeper who has passed out from a head-ache, and they decide to use his shop (which handily sells healing potions) to hide in. They realize that the evidence points toward the Dwarves being involved, with Arjan as an accomplice, but they can’t figure out what it might be that’s causing everyone to act strangely. The head, when they ungag it, just moans painfully about how much it stinks of fish in the dark, but whenever they try to get it to answer straight, it just whimpers helplessly. Trying to recall all the clues the head had given them, Harley realizes that the head is all that’s keeping them from being controlled by . . . whatever it is.
James agrees, and begins rubbing his head in frustration, starting to feel a headache. Harley is worried, but James tells her it’s not important. “So my head hurts. No big deal. When your bottom starts to hurt, then we should worry.”
They decide to loot a few stores that could prove useful, then confront the Dwarves. They steal a large supply of healing potions, and Harley picks enough pockets (everyone is starting to look comatose) to provide herself with several daggers. They try to be discreet, but since they’re practically the only people in the fair who are even walking anymore, it’s hard to ‘blend in.’ The only movement they see is near the Election Pavilion, where the debates will be held in a few hours. Workers are mindlessly setting up the podium and seats so people can gather and watch. Harley notes that the workers are so numb to their surroundings that the decorations look hideously tasteless.
Walking through the festival, its thoroughfares crowded with sitting or blankly standing people, it takes them nearly half an hour to reach the remote corner of the festival where the Dwarvish ‘church’ is. Even during the days when people weren’t standing around like zombies, the church received very limited attendance, since the Dwarves had tended to heckle most of their visitors into leaving.
Upon seeing the squat stone structure, Harley decides that the best course of action is probably to leave the festival, alert the city guard, and have them handle the problem. To stop her from running, James grabs Harley by the collar and drags her after him.
They stop beside a small tent and peer around the corner to see a trio of Dwarves standing warily around the doorway to their sturdy church. None of them seem to be suffering from head-aches or mind control. James tells Harley to go up and distract the Dwarves, and he’ll sneak around and attack from the side.
Harley walks up boldly, holding a pack of cards in her hands, and tries to impress the Dwarves with a magic trick. She gets about five seconds into the trick before the Dwarves draw forth small axes hidden in their cloaks and attack. Harley is down to 2 hit points before James leaps into the fray. The half-Elven fighter takes out two of the Dwarves, but the third one runs into the building, shouting to sound the alarm. Since James is busy finishing off his second Dwarf, Harley gives chase, rushing into the building.
Inside, in the near-dark, she sees two more Dwarves climbing out of a hole in the floor, and after a moment all three Dwarves begin to advance on her, talking amongst themselves in Dwarvish. Harley shouts for them to drop their weapons, or she’ll have to kill them with her banshee wail.
The Dwarves just laugh and start to rush forward, but Harley plucks the head from her satchel, yanks the gag out of its mouth, and hurls the gibbering, shrieking head at the Dwarves. The Dwarves scream in fright and duck to the ground as the Goblin head sails over them, and before they can get up, Harley manages to stab one in the chest. James enters the room while the Dwarves get their bearings again, and in a few minutes (this was 2nd edition, where a round was a minute long), the battle is over. A quick search of the room uncovers several sheafs of paper covered in Dwarven print, plus a large map of the festival grounds. Since neither of them can read the Dwarvish, James tucks the pages into his vest for later perusal.
Harley and James drink healing potions, then recover (and re-gag) the head and sneak through the trap door in the floor. Underground they hear a steady thrumming that dampens the noise of James trying to move silently in chainmail. A ladder leads down into a dark, roughly-dug cavern. Picks and shovels still lie on the floor near the ladder, so it appears that the cavern was just dug this week during the festival, a fact which is rather amazing, since the cavern is about five feet round, stretching for several hundred feet into the darkness. They move down the tunnel and come to a large room, in the center of which they can barely make out a gathering of at least a dozen Dwarves standing around what appears to be a large chest. The cavern is wide enough, and the odd thrumming is loud enough, that Harley and James manage to swing around the Dwarves to the far side of the tunnel, hoping to explore deeper while avoiding a fight. There are three tunnels that lead into the room—one they just came through, and two others.
James’ head-ache intensifies, and Harley begins to feel a slight pain as well, and the muffled Goblin head begins trying to shout. One of the Dwarves happens to spot them at the edge of the cave, and the whole group of Dwarves begins to scramble. The chest they had been standing around gets picked up and carried away down a side tunnel by a handful of Dwarves, while the rest begin to charge after the intruders. Panicking, Harley runs down the tunnel that the Dwarves did not go down, and James follows.
After a few dozen feet, they come to a dead end. The tunnel ends in a ten-foot across pool of water which rapidly rises, then falls, accompanied by the thrumming that has filled the underground complex. Confused, they’re about to turn and get ready to fight when Harley sees a round metallic object washed up on the shore of the pool. It’s Ricochet, her chakram. She quickly realizes that after it fell into the moat, it must have been sucked into here, and the only way that could have happened is if the pool here connects to the moat somehow. She only has time to shout for James to follow before she leaps into the pool and swims for her life.
They have a hard time clambering through the dirty moat water, a task made even more wretched because bits of fishes float in the murk. When they finally splash to the surface and pull themselves ashore, James and Harley check to make sure the head is still with them. It is, safe in its pack, trying to swallow a fish head.
Muttering about how she’s gotten drenched three times in one day, Harley gets to her feet and then gasps. The entire festival, every single person and a few pets and mounts, are heading in a single direction. Harley asks James again if it’s really a good idea to try to solve this themselves, but James grabs her shirt’s collar as a warning, telling her that it looks like time is running out.
Weaving through the slowly-moving crowd, Harley and James spy the Dwarves in the distance, heading for the main debate pavilion. Before they can get too close, however, the crowd starts to surround them, and James regretfully has to bash a few people’s faces to clear a path. They cut through tents and try to take every feasible shortcut, but by the time they reach the podium, the Dwarves are no where to be seen.
A crowd gathers in the seats set up for the debate, and several elderly wizard-looking people stand on the stage and yell at each other nearly incomprehensibly. Harley and James both feel the sudden urge to sit down and watch the show, and their head-ache intensifies as the Goblin begins to shout in pain, “It’s dark and safe, so loud so loud! Wet and safe. . . . Safe for a mate in a ball of gold, which you break and your body goes cold.”
Hearing that the Goblin head is starting to sound weaker and weaker, they look around for any sign of what the shrunken head might be talking about. The only wet thing they see is the moat. And a small drainage ditch that runs from the moat to the debate pavilion. Normally it would direct rainwater into the moat, but there must definitely be someplace wet under the pavilion.
Patting the Goblin’s head to keep it talking and to try to sooth its pain, Harley heads for one side of the ditch while James comes in from the other. They both rush through the blank-eyed crowds and duck low to crawl into the space beneath the stage. James tears away a curtain shroud, and sunlight streams in brightly.
A hiss comes from the darkness, and as their eyes adjust, James and Harley both see a creature crouching in a corner of the stage’s framework. The monster is at least three feet long, with a half-dozen sharp-tipped legs supported a bloated and chitinous body. Milky white eyes stare at them as the creature cringes, holding a foot-long sphere that glows with a dim yellow light. Several short tentacles writhe beneath the creature’s eyes, carressing the egg-shaped globe of Yellow Peril. The glass of the sphere seems worn and scratched, since the creature had been rubbing and scratching it constantly.
Harley realizes what it’s trying to do, and she takes a step back in worry. Remembering that Arjan had said that another fluid-filled sphere had been shattered the night before, she correctly guesses that it must have been this creature’s egg. She tells James that the thing must think the sphere of Yellow Peril is another egg, one for a mate.
As soon as she finishes warning James, the head begins to moan, then shriek, and the insectile creature rushes forward, hissing and lashing out with one long forelimb, while the other cradles the sphere to its chest. The creature attacks James, tearing through his chainmail with its sharp, scythe-like leg. James and Harley both leap out from under the stage and try to get room enough to fight, and the monster follows them. The creature apparently can’t maintain its telepathic control while fighting, and the entire audience of several hundred begins to clamber around in panic, many people surrounding Harley and James as they try to fight the creature.
Harley feels pain wash over her mind as the monster glares at her, tentacles writhing. James leaps forward and tries to hack at it, but his sword bounces off the tough exoskeleton. The small creature, barely larger than an average dog, slashes out again and cuts across the flesh of James’ belly, nearly cutting him open.
Harley, shaking off the pain, weakly tries to throw daggers at the monster, but they also just bounce off its shell. The crowd forces one fairgoer too close to monster, and the critter rears up and scrapes across the man’s lower body, knocking him to the ground. James again tries to hack at the monster, but his blade skitters off the creature’s back. The fairgoer screams as the monster lashes the flesh from his face with its tentacles, and James tries one more futile time to wound the animal.
Harley, seeing that the monster is too tough to hurt, remembers Arjan telling them that Yellow Peril is used to kill vermin, and she grabs a tent pole from a nearby pavilion, shouting for everyone to run. James looks at Harley in dismay, calls her an idiot, and runs.
The monster, finished killing the helpless citizen, cringes as Harley charges toward it. Harley raises the wooden pole over her head and swings down at the monster, aiming not for its shell, but for the sphere of Yellow Peril. With a heavy smash, the sphere shatters, and a thick, smoky yellow gas spews upward, directly into the creature’s face. The monster shrieks animalistically, and from Harley’s pack comes the Goblin’s voice as it screams in agony too. Harley nearly collapses as pain floods through her, but James grabs her and pulls her away as the thick, deadly fumes spread across the ground.
Everyone runs away in panic, spreading far enough away so the Yellow Peril dissipates into the air. James checks on the head, and finds it inert, its eyes closed and its mouth open in a peaceful, moronic grin. Not too far away, the small monster chokes to death as the toxic gas disintegrates its flesh.
__________________________________________________
In the aftermath of the day’s events, James and Harley are called to a meeting with their superior, a few high-ranking wizards, and Arjan Thembool. Everyone has been slowly recovering their memory since the death of the monster, a creature which the sages classify most closely as a ‘raknid,’ a species of subterranean insect. Oddly, raknids do not usually have tentacles growing over their faces and have never demonstrated mind-control powers, but since the gas dissolves much of the specimen, examination has been difficult.
After the (very soggy) Dwarvish documents were magically restored and translated, they revealed the Dwarves’ plans. They had been trying to steal a small collection of spellbooks being transported through the festival, and had smuggled in the raknid egg to cause enough of a disturbance that they’d be able to get the books and escape without notice. Arjan, to his credit, only thought he was smuggling in an illegal pet, not a magical monster. Raknid eggs glow with dim magic, so apparently the newly-hatched raknid grabbed the nearest glowing sphere and tried to hatch it as an egg.
While the raknid did manage to provide the distraction the Dwarves wanted, things could have gone much worse if Harley and James (and the head) hadn’t stopped the creature. They probably saved hundreds of lives, including those of the candidates for the leadership of the Arcane Academy. They promise to owe the two of them a favor, and they gladly overlook all the crimes they committed for the sake of saving the day (theft, assault, theft, vandalism, theft, etc.).
Finally, one of the wizards promises that he will contact them in a few days with a potential job offer, if they’re interested. The Dwarves managed to get away with most of the books, but one had not yet reached the fair, so someone will need to pass on the bad news to the buyer. The pay should be good.
Harley smiles in thanks, and James shrugs. “I’m just here to fight stuff and make money. If there’s nothing left to fight, we might as well make some money.”
__________________ Ryan "RangerWickett" Nock
Post Haste?
(Last chapter, Harley and James meet while working as guards at the Magical Fair in Lyceum. They become the heroes of the hour by stopping a strange beast from killing hundreds, and they receive praise from the Arcane Academy. Afterward, however, they have to return to their drab lives, living just above poverty, Harley working as an assistant to a cheap performer, and James helping unload goods for local shopkeepers.)
Chapter One:
Professionals
A few days after the end of the Magical Fair in Lyceum, with James and Harley having parted ways and gone back to their individual crappy lodgings in the poor peasants district, they are both contacted by magical courier. A hum annoys them each for a few seconds while they’re eating lunch, and then a scroll pops into existence right above their food. Harley manages to snatch hers before it falls into a plate of vegetables, while half-way across the district, James curses as the scroll splashes into his stew.
Both open the scrolls and read them, though James has a harder time because his scroll is soaked with beef broth. They both read that they are invited to a gathering being held by a well-known local businessman, Harlan Smith. The man gained reknown a few years earlier by being the patron of an adventuring party that discovered great wealth in one of the ancient Orcish tombs. He’s recruiting again, looking for new adventurers that he could support, and there’ll be a large gala and banquet before Smith makes his choices.
(The reason there are so many adventurers in the world is because rich nobles find it more entertaining to be patrons of heroes than to be patrons of the arts as was the case on Renaissance earth. Of course, the arts suffer slightly because of this, which explains why the world hasn’t progressed out of its Renaissance even after several hundred years. Lyceum is home to many prominent nobles, as are most of the great cities of the world, and all the families compete to see which can promote the most legendary and tale-worthy heroes).
The two of them won’t be hired as adventurers, however. The Arcane Academy promised to repay them by finding them a prominent employer, but neither James nor Harley is experienced enough to be fully patronized. Their job will be a bit more mundane, but they’ll still be able to enjoy the banquet and reception, courtesy of Harlan Smith and the Lyceum Arcanum.
The next day, at the scheduled time, the two new friends meet again and decide they wouldn’t mind working together another time. Harley has tried to dress elaborately, a tight and bright costume accentuating her agile physique while being careful to hide her Elvish ears; she even wears make-up to lessen the Elfin look of her face. James, on the other hand, dresses more casually, realizing he’ll be outmatched in stature and skill by most of those there seeking employment; he won’t admit it, but he’d rather not be embarrassed by trying to compete with professional adventurers. He wears an unimpressive maroon vest, which, combined with his long white hair and violet eyes, almost makes him look average.
The two of them avoid puddles of crap and slop in the streets as they cross the city on foot to the more regal streets where Harlan Smith is hosting his banquet at a huge theater. To be allowed in, they present the scrolls to the small phalanx of guards at the entrance to the theater, and are directed to meet Mr. Smith in about an hour in one of the converted dressing rooms. In the meanwhile, they are free to mingle and enjoy the entertainment and food.
Harley, a former (and she hopes future) entertainer, is interested in talking with the performers, while James is more eager to eat a good meal for a change.
At the banqet table, food is laid out for people to take as they please. James has some hassle with a crotchety old war veteran who rightly recognizes that the half-Elf isn’t a real adventurer. James ignores the man and piles a large amount of food onto his plate, then once out of earshot jokes to a red-haired swordwoman that the old warrior must just be jealous because he needs someone to chew his food for him. James continues to make a few old jokes at the veteran’s expense, but the veteran retorts by mocking James for being too cowardly to be a real adventurer. At this remark, the red-haired woman grows bored and leaves. James finds a quiet corner to go eat his food.
Meanwhile, Harley notices an Elf among the crowd watching a group of jugglers. He looks very strong, agile, and handsome, with shoulder-length red hair and a rapier sheathed at his hip. As Harley gets closer, hoping to talk to him, she realizes that he appears to be more interested in flirting with a waitress than in watching the jugglers. Laughing to herself, Harley watches the jugglers until she sees that the Elf has failed to woo the waitress. At the opening, Harley sidles over and strikes up a conversation with him. She makes sure to hide her own Elvish ears and enjoys listening to him brag about how beautiful Elvish forests are; he’s obviously hoping to impress her.
Harley talks to him a while longer, realizing that he is a bit of a lech, but charming in that she pities his inability to be taken seriously. She learns that his name is Nikal, or Nischal Al’emelos in Elvish, and that he’s a full-time employer for Harlan, working to occasionally break in new acquisitions or do the rare mission into Elvish lands where humans aren’t welcome. He fancies himself a skilled duelist, and takes pride in being one of the few Elves to make it among the ranks of Lyceian adventurers.
James finds Harley a while later and tells her that it’s time for their meeting. Quite out of character, James’ player calls Nikal either “Nikail” (rhymes with the Russian name, Mikail), or “the Commie.” I wish I could think of a way to make an in-game joke of that, but I can’t figure it out. I began to realize here that Nic, James’ player, derived a cruel pleasure in mocking the names of my NPCs.
Once out of Nikal’s sight, Harley sticks out her tongue and gags, then laughs, telling James how she pities any woman who’d actually fall for Nikal’s brand of romance.
They find the room where they’re supposed to meet Harlan Smith, and a few minutes later the man arrives, bringing with him– “Oh, I see you two have already met,” –Nikal. Harlan is a middle-aged man, dressed in well-tailored but not extravagant clothes. A full head of graying-brown hair with a light-hearted caustic expression on his face. A native Lyceian, he’s famous for running one of the largest trading businesses in the world. He owns fleets of ships, has hundreds of wagons to carry goods inland, manages mines across two continents, and supports trading posts in all kinds of remote areas that scout for leads for ancient and/or buried treasures. Seeing that he has the Commie in tow, James isn’t impressed.
Harlan outlines that the Arcane Academy referred them to him, and that he plans to hire them on retainer for odd jobs here and there, maybe with the option for them to become professionals if they show interest and talent. For their first job, he wants them to leave tomorrow morning. They’re to deliver a package to a member of the magical academy, which is the reason the academy suggested them in the first place.
A few days travel to the northeast is the rural Haranshire, a moderately fertile area hemmed in by mountains to the east, a swamp to the south, and Elvish woods to the north. Tauster, an old mage who makes his home in one of the two small towns in the Haranshire, is expecting his monthly package, a chest filled with research material and components for making potions that Harlan will later distribute. The two of them are to take the chest and travel on horseback to the Haranshire, deliver the goods, get Tauster to sign for them, then return once he’s finished making a batch of potions. Nikal will accompany them just to be careful; Harlan admits freely that they have to earn his trust and can’t just buy it by saving the lives of a few meager spellcasters who stay in their tower all the time and make life difficult for entrepeneurs.
James and Harley glance at each other and shrug, trying not to be put off by the businessman’s short ranting. Harley says that they’re interested in the job, but want to know what else it might entail. Payment, for instance. She deliberately tries to sound slightly disinterested, in hopes of drawing out a bigger payment. Harlan offers a fair payment sum, 500 Lyceian silvers for each job, plus lodging that abuts his own mansion.
It’s the last part that seals the deal. After living in crappy conditions in Lyceum for a few months, Harley and James are both willing to jump at the chance for a nice, luxurious room. They accept the offer, then spend the rest of the day moving their meager belongings into their new quarters in one of the buildings that makes up Harlan’s mansion compound. Much of the compound is unoccupied because most of Harlan’s employees are usually off on missions. Additionally, all the spellcasters working for him have gone to attend the post-Fair gathering.
Thankfully, Nikal makes himself scarce.
As the day turns to evening, James and Harley chat for a while longer, with Harley talking about her time on the road since she left home, though she doesn’t mention the details of why she left home. Likewise, James doesn’t reveal much about himself either, because he says that his own past is too boring to waste time on. After agreeing on when to meet the next morning, they’re both about to head to their rooms when Nikal shows up and says that he wants them to pick out their horses for tomorrow so they can be ready in the morning. Wearily, James and Harley go along with Nikal to the stables, where they see that Nikal has already prepared his own horse, plus a spare horse to carry the chest for Tauster (whom Nic, James’ player, has dubbed “Toaster”).
They pick two horses, tell the stable hands to have them ready. As they leave, Nikal says that he didn’t ever remember seeing those two stable hands before, and he puts his hand to the hilt of his sword just as a crossbow string twangs from the stable behind them. Nikal ducks and hits the dirt, then kicks back up and draws his sword. Harley and James see that the two ‘stable hands’ are both armed with swords. Another two men who had apparently been hiding in the darkness of the stable stalls cover the party with crossbows, while another trio emerges from behind hedges near the mansion compound gate. They head off toward the main mansion, moving stealthily in shadows.
One of the ‘stable hands’ begins to warn them not to make any noise, but Harley pulls out Ricochet, her Chakram, and hurls the throwing disk at the crossbow wielder who hasn’t fired yet. The man fires at Harley, but his aim is thrown off as he ducks out of the way of Ricochet. With neither crossbow a threat, Nikal leaps forward into melee combat, lashing out with rapier. James, having left his sword in his room, tries to wrestle with one of the crossbow men to take the man’s sword. (After this game, Nic decided that James would never go around without a weapon.)
Harley runs forward and recovers Ricochet, then gets a pitchfork out of the stable and distracts the two fake stable hands while Nikal takes them down. James manages to get a sword, and he drops the man he took it from. The other crossbow man manages to reload, and his shot nearly drops James, but the half-Elf slashes the man into unconsciousness, then leaves his body to bleed.
Harley and Nikal chase after the three heading for the mansion, with Nikal shouting as loudly as possible to alert the guards, wherever they are (they later learned that most of the guards slack off because they figure adventurers are always around to stop troubles). Harley catches up to the intruders just after they hurl a grappling hook into a second floor window and begin to climb up to it. She vaults up the rope after them and manages to yank down the lowest of the trio, who Nikal quickly impales. When Harley finally reaches the window, she hears the last two thieves shouting to each other, “Where’s the book?” and exchaning ideas of where to look. Harley lets them search while she helps Nikal up the rope.
Across the compound, a final thief who’d been hiding in the stable makes a break for it on one of the horses, which James shoots in the flank with a crossbow. The horse bucks its rider, and James takes the man prisoner.
Nikal and Harley sneak through the elaborate rooms of Harlan’s mansion, following the sounds of the two thieves ransacking the place. It’s only dimly lit in the hallways, nearly black in the rooms, but Harley and Nikal have the advantage of Elvensight, so they take the two pillagers by surprise and finish the fight with little difficulty.
A few minutes later guards arrive, followed finally by Harlan, who fires the inept guards on the spot. Nikal apologizes with a smile and a shrug, then escorts the fired guards to the gates, never minding the fact that now Harlan has even less security at his house until he hires more guards, a possibility unlikely at this time of night.
Harlan thanks the trio for stopping the burgulars, but when asked about a book, Harlan doesn’t know what the thieves might’ve been talking about. City guards are called to take the thieves away to be beaten and imprisoned, and a healer is called to try to help James and Harley get over any scrapes and bruises from the battle.
Curious about the robbery—the thieves took only a few trinkets, nothing elaborate or expensive—they nevertheless need to get sleep, so they hold off their questions until the next morning, hoping that the trouble has nothing to do with the package they’ll be delivering.
The early spring breeze warms Harley, James, and Nikal as they travel north-east from Lyceum, following a well-worn road into the sparsely-populated Haranshire. Healed of their injuries from the brief battle the night before, they travel easily. Each has his or her own horse, courtesy of their employer Harlan Smith, and a fourth horse carries the chest full of potion ingredients that are due for delivery to Tauster, a mage who lives in the Haranshire.
Most importantly for James, his pockets are fuller. To his and Harley’s surprise, Smith proved generous and offered to pay them a bonus of 100 Lyceian silver coins for having the initiative to stop a burgularly of his home. Though James doesn’t say much during the trip, he often pats the small bag of coins with a mild smirk on his face.
Now that they’re on the open road, away from large groups of humans, Harley lets her hair loose, revealing her pointed Elvish ears. Much to her chagrin, Nikal takes that as an opportunity to try to chat with her more. Not eager to be flirted with by her supervisor, Harley shrugs at Nikal’s advances, and eventually the older Elf shrugs himself and leaves her alone.
They travel from just after sunrise until nearly dusk, mutely riding for nearly the entire trip. They pass through far too much farmland for their tastes, and decide not to stop to eat anywhere, instead just nibbling on trail rations in the afternoon. That evening they buy a night’s rest in a road-side temple to Meliska, goddess of healing. The next morning they set out just as early, and travel just as quietly, until late afternoon.
Nikal announces that they are in the Haranshire, and that they should reach the main town of Milbourne before sunset. The wide road heads into a small forest, and Harley pulls out her map to see what it’s called. She and James argue briefly over a letter, which would make it either the “Lyrchwood,” or the “Lynchwood.” They end their brief argument when a group of farmers round the bend of the road ahead. The three farmers travel on foot, carrying bales of hay on their shoulders. The lead one waves to them with a smile, and Harley waves back.
Suddenly, arrows fly from the trees on both sides, landing amid the farmers and the party. One arrow grazes Nikal in the shoulder, but all the others miss. The farmers rush toward the party shouting for help, and Harley and James quickly dismount and move to defend the farmers.
It’s not until too late that they see the farmers pull clubs and swords from the hay bales. The ‘farmers’ had tricked them.
A quick fight ensues, in which Nikal rushes under arrowfire into the woods to take out one pair of archers, Harley throws Ricochet at the archers on the other side of the road (Ricochet misses), and James tries to deal with the farmers-turned-brigands. Nikal easily renders both his archers into unconsciousness, while Harley herself is knocked to near death (0 hit points) by a club blow. James defends Harley, using his body as a shield as Harley crawls for cover amid the horses. Nikal rushes to the other side of the road (ignoring the farmers that James is fighting) and takes out the other two archers.
Finally, James kills one farmer and Nikal knocks the other unconscious. The third leaps onto one of their horses and tries to ride off, but James pegs him with a bow. The farmer nearly dies in the fall from the horse.
As James drags the farmers and archers together into the middle of the road, Nikal rips off a shirt sleeve to bandage an arrow wound Harley had received. Harley thanks him despite the obvious expression on his face that he hopes he’s impressing her. James comments that Nikal is “too sexy for his shirt.” (Later this insult is reduced merely to “too sexy! too sexy!” said in a fake snooty French accent.)
Only one of the attackers is dead, and a few are still wavering on consciousness. A quick interrogation reveals that someone warned them that ‘dark magic’ would be coming into the Haranshire. Apparently a dark-cloaked figure warned them not to interfere, so of course they did. When Harley asks why they specifically were told not to interfere, the man replies that several years ago, during a local crisis, he and his friends here formed a lynch mob to stop any strangers coming into the area. They’ve been wary since, and have noticed strange things going on lately.
James admits defeat. It must really be the “Lynchwood.”
James also admits a bit of guilt over killing the farmer who only thought he was defending his home, but Nikal tells him not to worry about it, since the farmers were stupid for attacking anyway. Nikal orders the brigands who are still conscious to make quick sleds to drag the bodies of their companies, which the horses will drag. Weak from the fight, Harley, Nikal, and James escort their attackers to Milbourne to be turned over to the authorities. Harley, who’s been lynched once or twice herself, tells the brigands angrily that next time, if they’re more careful and less zealous about their homelands, maybe they won’t end up getting a friend killed.
Despite the difficulties, they manage to reach Milbourne before sunset. The small town of 200 people sits on the north bank of the Churnett River, so the group fords across a marked area. A bridge spans half the river, but stops mid-way, and judging by its moldiness and state of repair, it looks more like it was abandoned, rather than that its still being built.
The party causes a stir as it comes into town. Townsfolk come out of their houses, or away from their conversations to see the Elf, half-Elf, and woman trying to hide that she’s an Elf drag a half-dozen humans into town as prisoners. A few farmers in the fields they’d passed on the way to Milbourne had apparently run ahead and alerted the town officials, because as soon as they reach the northern shore of the river, they’re greeted by a pair of respectable-looking men.
The first introduces himself as Joseph Carmen, son of the mayor and local constabulary. He stands a modest 6 feet, with the same dull brown hair as everyone else in the entire Haranshire. And since everyone in the Haranshire has brown hair, the second man stands out because of his well-groomed, shoulder-length blonde hair. He introduces himself as Allarliao Half-Elven, local ranger and land-owner. The half-Elf wears loose traveling clothes, with an elaborately designed black scimitar hanging from his swordbelt. Harley’s Elven senses tingle, suggesting that at least something Allar is carrying is strongly magical. It’s obvious that the locals afford Allar a great deal of respect, even though the man looks only to be in his mid-thirties.
Harley explains why they’re in the Haranshire, then asks if Tauster is in town so they can deliver his package. She also asks if there’s lodging and stabling available for them to stay the night. She gives a quick recount of the events of the battle, including that they sadly killed one man. Carmen grimaces, whereas Allar sighs almost cynically.
The half-Elf ranger tells them that Tauster lives in one of the other two towns of the Haranshire, Thurmaster. It’s another half-day’s travel, but yes, room and board is available at the Baron of Mutton, the local inn. Allar offers to show them there, while Carmen and some of his deputies drag off the prisoners (for a very stern talking to before being released).
At the Baron of Mutton, they stable their horses and carry their gear (and the chest) up into three separate rooms. Once done getting settled, they accept Allar’s offer to buy them a nice meal for their troubles. He thanks them for defending themselves with more restraint than some might have, and says that he owes it to them to make their time in the Haranshire as comfortable as possible.
A quick getting-to-know-you session occurs. Allarliao Ursdail is half-Elvish, a former professional adventurer who actually knows Harlan Smith in passing. About ten years ago he helped defend this area from some magical dangers, and has since made the place his home. His wife Lacy is a priestess of Meliska, and he and his other former adventuring companions own and operate a small keep to the east. Allar is one of three rangers in the Haranshire, all of whom work together to make sure the area remains safe. Without their protection, most of the people would probably move away, since farming is not terribly profitable, mining has always been a failure, and trouble crops up far more often than it should. At least the Dragon in the Mire doesn’t cause problems anymore.
Before Harley or James can ask more about the Dragon (Harlan didn’t say anything about a Dragon!), a person walks up and leans over, his elbows on the table. They look up to see a youthful, skinny Elf with red-hair, dressed as (of all things) a Christian priest.
“Hello there. . . ?” Allar asks, looking for a name of the stranger.
The Elf gives a cocky smile. “Bhurisrava. But don’t worry about who I am. I’m more concerned about who you are. I couldn’t help overhear that your wife is a priestess of Meliska. Now I know that can’t be good for her, but what I want to ask you is, ‘Are you with God?’”
The group stares at Bhurisrava in confusion, and Nikal decides then that he wants some sleep. Bhurisrava takes the Elf’s chair without asking and sits with them at the table. He continues like a salesman, “Because if you’re not with God, we definitely need to talk about your spiritual place in the world.”
A bit thrown off, Allar explains that he worships in his own way, and that he’d prefer it if Bhurisrava wouldn’t pry. James, unable to pronounce Bhurisrava’s name, calls him “B-Man.” Harley adopts usage of the nickname too.
Bhurisrava explains that he was just pleased to see such a large quantity of Elves in one place, though he suspected that none of them were true followers of God. He talks briefly about his travels, then asks them about what they’re all up to. It’s obvious he’s being imposing, but somehow he manages to be silly enough to be entertaining, and thus neither Harley nor James tell B-Man to bug off.
After ordering and paying for a meal for Bhurisrava too, Allar leaves to his own room, since it has gotten rather late. He tells them that he’ll be willing to go with them to Thurmaster tomorrow so they can see Tauster.
For perhaps an hour more, Bhurisrava, Harley, and James talk, discussing primarily their travels and the relationships among Elves, humans, and religion. (Out of game terms, I was trying to explain to the new players where they were in the world, and what the rest of the world was like.)
Harley is a Vaneljesti Elf from far to the south. Her people are typical xenophobes when it comes to interacting with humans, and Harley left because she got along with humans better than with Elves. Vaneljesti tend to be very good spellcasters, and Harley’s family is famous for their talents, but Harley herself can’t cast any spells.
Bhurisrava is an Innenlesti Elf, from the huge Elvish forest only a few days north of the Haranshire. Like most Elves, his people follow the traditional Elvish pantheon, but Bhurisrava claims that he received a calling to follow the Lord, and he’s been traveling for about a year now. Thankfully, for Harley and James’ sake, he doesn’t dwell upon religion too much.
James is half-Elvish, but what type of Elf it is he won’t say. The white hair and violet eyes don’t particularly match with any major race of Elves, so Harley and Bhur guess that those traits must come from his human side. Since James won’t even say where he’s from (“Don’t worry about it. It’s too boring. I’d fall asleep trying to tell it.”), it’s hard to guess anything about him.
Allarliao was half-Tundanesti Elf. The Tundanesti are arctic Elves from far to the north, and are renowned for their swordsmanship. Scimitars are Tundanesti weapons as well, and they decide that Allar probably wasn’t lying about his past. They decide that it would be a bad idea to get on Allar’s sore side.
The conversation peters off, with Bhurisrava asking if he can travel with them for a while. As a show of good faith, he heals the injuries Harley had taken in the battle, and Harley immediately tells James to let B-Man come along. James shrugs.
They all head to their rooms, but when Harley goes to check on Nikal, she finds his room empty, as though he had left. All his gear is gone too, along with the chest. Frantically, she tells James, then asks around the inn to find out if anyone had seen him slip out. Bhurisrava lends his help by following fresh horse tracks out of the stable, heading east. Toward, among other things, Thurmaster, where Tauster is. They decide to go after him, but discover that Nikal took all four of the horses.
Amid many mutterings of “Damned Commie,” James listens to Bhurisrava’s plan to break into the local stable and steal three horses. Harley grins in delight that a Christian priest is advocating theft, but Bhurisrava doesn’t seem fazed by it. They go through with the plan, sneaking through late-night Milbourne to the local non-inn stable, where they try to explain their dilemma to the stable-keeper, an old man who was up late. When the old man won’t give them horses, James gags him and ties him up, and they ride off after Nikal.
For the rest of the night they ride, fighting sleepiness until the sun rises. They keep having to stop regularly to make sure they’re still following Nikal’s horses’ tracks, so they make slow pace, and soon after sunrise they see a lone figure on horseback galloping toward them from the direction they came. They recognize it as Allar, his scimitar unsheathed as he speeds toward them.
I believe the reaction of Harley’s player was, “Ahhh! High-level Fighter! Run!”
Though they follow that advice, Allar seems to be able to push his steed better than they can, and he closes quickly. He shouts for them to stop and explain themselves unless they want to be injured. Weighing the options, the trio decide to stop.
They explain that Nikal has stolen the horses and the chest, and try to make their decision to steal more horses sound reasonable. Allar’s reaction (“Why didn’t you just tell me?”) makes them chagrined, but the ranger agrees to help them find their runaway companion, assuming they return the horses. They get back on their steeds, then gallop on, Allar somehow managing to follow Nikal’s tracks even at high speed. To their surprise, the tracks lead straight to Thurmaster. They’d assumed Nikal had run off and stolen the chest, but it seems he was simply trying to get there faster.
They catch Nikal just outside Thurmaster, amid the abandoned houses of families that lived there when the area was more prosperous. Nikal apologizes for running off, but says he had the best intentions. He didn’t want his ‘friends’ to have to take this trip themselves.
Harley starts to yell at Nikal, but Allar calms them down, warning them not to make reactions while they’re still uninformed. That’s the kind of reasoning that leads farmers to attack couriers because they’re supposedly carrying ‘dark magic.’
Harley: “Yeah, I can’t believe they’d attack us on some stupid rumor like that.”
Allar: “Like I said, don’t judge while you’re still uninformed.”
They walk through early-morning Thurmaster, a nasty place with muddy ground and offensive smells. A truly crappy town, home to all of 30 people. Allar claims he and his friends are working to try to renew the area by bringing in loggers, and he hopes that will aleviate some of the local problems of money.
Tauster lives in the nicest structure in the town, a crumbling tower (since he thinks that all wizards have to live in a tower) with an adjoining house. They knock on his door, then listen to someone inside knock things over and mutter loudly before the door opens, revealing a wrinkled, grinning old man dressed in dull green robes.
James asks business-like, “Are you Toaster?”
Tauster nods, then squints at Harley. His voice is high-pitched, cracking like a typical old coot. “Are you Jenny?”
Bhurisrava nudges Harley in the side and winks to her, nodding slowly. Harley shakes her head and replies apologetically, “Sorry, no. I’m Harley. We’re here to deliver your package from Harlan Smith.”
Tauster smiles at that, then nods appreciatively to Allar before letting them in. He walks around with the aid of a cane, and according to Allar is over 80 years old. Harley feels immediately sorry for the old man, and tries to help him however possible, in this case by making tea while the others bring the chest in and take a look at it.
Tauster magically unlocks the chest, then riffles through some bags of powder and small boxes of weird animal parts. Allar helps the man clear out the chest, then raps on the bottom of it, smiling contendedly. The chest has a secret compartment at its bottom, which Allar was suspecting. With the aid of the others he manages to figure out how to open the hidden compartment, from which he pulls a heavy, black hide-bound book. On its cover are silver Dwarvish runes, and Harley again senses powerful magic, now coming from the book.
Allar asks for Tauster to translate, to make sure the book is authentic. The old wizard reads the Dwarvish words, saying slowly, “The Seventh Spellbook of Darlakanand.”
Harley sighs, realizing what Allar had been insinuating before. They actually had been bringing dark magic into the Haranshire without even knowing it. Nervously, Harley looks for exits, just in case Allar turns out to be the same person who had warned the villagers not to interfere.
Bhurisrava, however, looks at the book in surprise and awe, and he asks what it is. Allar explains that Darlakanand was a Dwarvish enchanter who was responsible for the troubles in the Haranshire that he and his friends overcame a few years ago. Since then they’ve been trying to make sure no one else caused similar problems by getting their hands on the wizard’s spellbooks. He tells them that they’ve probably save a lot of lives by bringing the book safely to him, though he is disturbed that there’s only one book, instead of all of them.
Harley and James remember hearing about what the Dwarves at the magical fair stole, and they get comfortable to tell Allar (and Bhur, Nikal, and Tauster) the story.
Please take a look at the map of the Haranshire here. It's somewhat important to the next post. You'll have to copy and paste the url, rather than clicking the link. Something funky about geocities.
Sitting amid the clutter of Tauster’s laboratory/bed room/living room/kitchen, Harley relates the events of the Magical Fair in Lyceum, with James throwing in the occasional mocking comment (usually mocking the ‘bad guys,’ but sometimes making fun of Harley for trying to run away). Allar and Bhurisrava listen intently, while Tauster flips errantly through the book hidden in the chest.
Harley suggests a connection between the Dwarves at the fair and this book. After being declared the heroes of the hour, Harley and James had learned from the mages of the Lyceian Academy that the Dwarves responsible for the trouble at the fair stole a small collection of books from a merchant. The books had been intended to be handed over to the wizards, and enchantments on the books kept them from being magically located through scrying.
Allar sighs at this, saying that he and his former adventuring friends had paid the academy a substanial sum for them to deliver the seven Books of Darlakanand. They had spent months hiring scouts to track down the locations of the books and return them to the Haranshire, where Allar and his friends could destroy the books. They had not told the wizards to destroy the books immediately upon finding them, because that would have tipped off the Academy as to how dangerous the books were. Allar doesn’t trust the Academy, and is fairly certain that they would perceive ‘dangerous’ to mean ‘valuable.’
They ask what exactly is so dangerous about the books, and so Allar recounts as quickly as possible his own group’s adventures in the Taranost, the network of caves commonly called the Land Below. Allar tells them to sit back and get comfortable, because it’s a long story.
Ten years earlier he and his friends were caught in a trap in an ancient Orcish tomb that stranded them in the Taranost, and before making their way back to the surface they discovered the first of many clues that would lead them to the source of a plan to dominate the minds of every creature in the world. The creatures working toward this goal were the Illithids, bizarre magical creatures with mind-control powers of their own, but nothing as long-range or comprehensive as their plan.
The Illithids were created as splinter personalities of a psionic Dragon that lived deep in the Land Below. Her powers were so great that she couldn’t control them, and each night in her dreams she would manifest a new nightmare that would take on the coporeal form of an Illithid. The Dragon had sequestered herself far from civilization in hopes of keeping these vile nightmares from harming anyone, but she had no power to kill them, and thus for thousands of years the Mind Flayers (as Allar and his group called the Illithids) had tried to reach the surface and conquer it.
Only relatively recently, about a hundred years ago, had the Mind Flayers succeeded in reaching the surface, and they had slowly been developing their plan. Whenever any surface-dweller learned of the plans, the Mind Flayers wiped their minds or dominated their wills, and in so doing had enlisted a large force to protect and aid them. The chief surface-dweller in this group was Darlakanand, a Dwarvish wizard who had managed to protect himself from the telepathic domination of the Illithids. Being forward-sighted, Darlakanand had agreed to work with the Illithids, since he knew that though he might be immune to telepathy, once the Mind Flayers had a large enough force they could kill him by more traditional means.
Darlakanand had devised a magical process that would allow the combined telepathy of all the Illithids and a bit of the Psidragon to manifest across the world, dominating all but the strongest-willed. All an Illithid would have to do is tell a creature to do something, and it would. Everything would be their slave.
Harley looks disgusted at this, and even James is put off by the idea. Bhurisrava seems to be having a hard time comprehending the concept, but even he realizes how bad such a thing would be.
Allar goes on, telling what he and his friend had to do with it. They had started as professional adventurers working for a patron, but slowly grew more involved in their own attempts to stop a plot they only had hints of. It took four years before they fully realized what was going to happen, and after that they had to be exceedingly careful, realizing how dangerous their foes were. Through luck and caution they were able to finally get one step ahead of the Illithids, find their way to their main city, and stop their plan, killing Darlakanand, the Psidragon, and a copious amount of Illithids in the process.
In the aftermath, many of the formerly-dominated surface-dwellers fled back to the surface, or into the caves of the Taranost, taking with them the treasure and bounty of the Illithid city. They heard rumors that among this loot were the eight books of Darlakanand. They were able to recover one already, which is being kept by one of Allar’s friends, and they were about to retrieve the other seven to make sure no one could attempt the same process, or at least not do so as easily. Apparently the Dwarves stole six of the remaining seven, which leaves this one book and the one kept by Allar’s associate. Having heard Harley’s story, Allar’s almost certain that the Dwarves were working for the Illithids. The presence of a mutated raknid with biomantically-grafted Illithid telepathy suggests that they were at least involved somehow.
Six out of eight of the books in the hands of the Mind Flayers. Allar doesn’t know how many someone would need to recreate the process.
Tauster chooses this moment to inform them that he’s been magically examining the book this whole time. Some magic about it protects it from damage while on the surface. It was penned in the Land of No Sun, and it can only be destroyed there.
That kills James’ plan, which was to just burn the book now. Just to be thorough, though, Tauster tries to destroy it with a burning hands, and at Bhurisrava’s encouragement Allar even tries slicing his magical scimitar through it. Afterward it is neither burnt not cut. It even resists an attempt to blot out the text. No new ink will be absorbed by its pages.
Frustrated, Allar paces the house for a few minutes. Meanwhile Bhurisrava, Harley, and James discuss the new information, finally coming to the conclusion that while it sounds bad, they can’t really do anything to help.
At that moment Allar turns back to them and shakes his head. “No, actually you might be some of the only people who can help. I need someone to keep watch here for suspicious happenings while I gather the others. I don’t want to try to destroy this thing until I have my other friends, and I’ll need them to track down whoever the Dwarves were so we can get the other books back.”
(in game terms, I hadn’t planned a sufficient reason for the party to stay around and investigate, so I shot for the tried and true method of hiring them)
Bhurisrava says he really has nothing to do with this. He was just passing through, and finds it all interesting, but not really worth him getting involved. James and Harley don’t really want to do it either, because they didn’t like one tiny raknid, so they definitely don’t want to deal with a whole army of mindwalkers. Nikal, who has been sitting quietly this whole time, yawns and says that he already has an employer.
And with that they thank Allar for helping them out, thank Tauster for tea (and toast), get Tauster to sign that he did indeed receive the chest, and leave to spend the day sleeping in the town’s shabby inn.
(the DM says to himself, oh crap, what now?)
Allar says to himself, “Oh crap, what now? Who knows who they’ll tell?”
Since they had been awake for an entire day, and had just arrived in Thurmaster right after dawn, Nikal, Bhurisrava, James, and Harley decide to sleep the day off. Slightly before noon James wakes Harley and Bhur, saying that he’s pretty sure the weather will turn bad by tonight. He wants to ditch Nikal just like he did to them, and Harley agrees that it’s fair justice. Bhurisrava, who had never really talked to Nikal much in the first place, agrees to go along with it since he wants to preach to them the word of the Lord.
Also, they want to leave while Allar still expects them to be asleep.
They take their horses (the ones Harlan gave them and the ones they stole from Milbourne) and get ready to ride out of the Haranshire. They briefly consider leaving the horses for Nikal to deal with while they go south through the Shreiken Mire, since it would be the faster route to Lyceum, but the innkeeper asks if they’ve heard about Inzeldrin, the green dragon that lives in the marsh. The party says no, thanks him for saving their lives, and decide to go west, back through Milbourne. They take the horses with them.
As they travel, stormclouds crawl in from the south, and it looks like by nightfall there’ll be rain. They pass quickly through Milbourne at dusk, staying just long enough to pick up some of the minor stuff they left in the inn there (I tried to stall them by having the innkeeper say that Allar had told him to confiscate their gear, but they go get the stablemaster and have him tell the innkeeper that they brought back the horses, so the innkeeper finally relents).
Deciding they don’t want to run into Allar by staying another night in Milbourne, they check the map Harley and James have and decide to head for the nearby town of Harlaton, only about another two hour’s travel south. They get there early in the night, just as it begins to rain.
They discover that the town only has a population of about 30, that the inn doubles as a general store and blacksmith shop, and that there’s no place to stable their horses since no one in town owns a horse. They already dropped off the ‘stolen’ horses in Milbourne, and had left one of their employer’s horses for Nikal, leaving them with three. They tether their horses to a tree, and after Bhurisrava apologizes to them for having to leave them out in the rain, they buy a room at the inn.
Still tired since they only got a few hours of sleep in the morning, and have been riding for nearly ten hours, both Harley and James immediately go to sleep. Bhurisrava stays up for a little while longer and talks to the innkeeper about the local churches, learning that a priest of Meliska operates a temple in Milbourne, that there’s a druid who lives in Thornwood, and that Lord Parlfray’s keep has a small shrine to Ondy Vegces, patron god of knights. The only prominent Christian in the area is a gnome named David, but he’s been off traveling for a few months.
Bhurisrava retires for a little sleep, as does the innkeeper/shopkeeper/blacksmith.
And they’re all awaked by the hideous sound of horses screaming.
Not knowing how long they’ve been asleep, James, Harley, and Bhurisrava burst out into the torrential rain, weapons ready. James sprints past their horses, thinking he sees a dark figure scuttling away into the darkness. Bhurisrava, faster since he’s not armored, runs to the horses, kneeling near the bodies. They’ve all been killed, their heads looking like they’d been torn open from within. Long slashes gouge across the horses’ flanks and bodies. Blood mingles with the roaring rain, staining all of their gear that had been in the saddlebags. Whatever killed the horses ripped through the bags, scattering the contents across the ground.
People have come out of their houses to see what’s going on, but in the pouring rain it’s hard to make anything out. Bhurisrava says a quick prayer for the horses, then stands and runs over to Harley and James. They’ve stopped in the tall grass behind the inn, looking at faint tracks in the mud, caused by what look like bare feet. The tracks head off in the direction James saw the dark form scuttle away.
Harley at first doesn’t want to go, but James reminds her that the person who killed their horses just cost them several hundred gold pieces that they’ll have to pay back to Harlan. Since he tore through their bags, he seems to be looking for something, which means he might come after them next. James grabs Harley by the collar and drags her along, saying that it’s safest to deal with the person now while they have him on the run. Bhurisrava agrees, angered that anyone would so cruelly kill innocent animals. Through the thunderously loud storm, they follow the tracks toward the woods.
The trail is easy to follow through the mud, but when they reach the woods the going becomes difficult. The forest is called the Thornwood because nearly every plant in it has spines or thorns, even the trees. The person they’re pursuing is taking no care to hide his trail, and branches are broken and bits of black cloth torn in an obvious trail heading deeper into the woods. Over the course of an hour, the rain slowly abates, and their urge to run after their target fades. The trail heads for higher ground, scaling slick muddy slopes far more easily than any of the group can. Harley suggests turning back, since they might be being led into a trap, but James calls her a coward and says they’ll keep going for one more mile before they turn back.
Wet and tired, they press on through the drenched forest. It stops raining, but the clouds hang low and the entire forest is filled with a watery haze. Finally, just before they’re ready to turn back, they see the trail open into a wide grassy clearing. James curses, realizing that they must’ve fallen far behind their quarry, and though it was easy tracking him through broken branches that have thorns to snag cloth, it’ll be nearly impossible to follow him through grass.
Harley rants at James for a few minutes while they rest to catch their breath, hoping another storm doesn’t roll in. Thunder rumbles distantly, and Bhurisrava grumbles about the horse-killer being a coward. Frustrated, he shouts loudly and angrily into the woods, “I know you’re out there, you bastard. You think you can kill our horses, huh? Big ‘death’ man, huh?! Well I’m calling you OUT! I’m calling out Death! Come on you pussy!”
Through the din of the thunder emerges the sound of someone rushing through the forest toward them. They stand anxiously and ready their weapons, Harley chiding B-man for being loud enough to let everyone know where they were.
From the opposite side of the clearing bursts Nikal, rushing toward them, clutching something to his chest. Bhurisrava scoffs, disappointed at the lack of Deaths, but the terror in Nikal’s eyes worries them.
Nikal sees them and screams briefly, his voice piercing the night. He hesitates for a moment, seemingly afraid of the party, but then he shakes his head viciously and shouts for them to run. He himself begins to run, and James tries to catch him before he sprints past them, but suddenly James, Harley, and Bhur catch sight of a dim glow coming out of the woods from the same direction Nikal came. Nikal turns and looks, then falls to the ground, clutching his head in pain, dropping before him the thing he’d been carrying. Aside from Nikal’s pained whimpers, a hush falls over the group.
A dark-clad figure, heavily hooded, emerges from the darkness of the opposite side of the clearing. It floats through the grass toward them, its thick black robes concealing its stride. A mist seems to flow behind it, blotting out the forest as a chill fog begins to roll toward them. It holds a small orb of waxy light that dimly illuminates the clearing. As it comes within 20 feet, they can see pale purple tentacles writhing from underneath it’s hood. From its right sleeve extends a similarly pale purple swordblade, looking like its made of flesh and bone.
A stream of words and the emotion of urgency enters their minds, somehow detached from any real voice.
The book.
The dark figure holds out its hand toward them, either in offering or as a demand. The ominous blade it holds seems to suggest the latter.
Bhurisrava chuckles weakly. “Oh crap. I didn’t think Death would answer.”
The hooded figure stands before them, its robe drifting eerily in a conjured fog. Nikal cowers in the grass behind them, covering some object he’d been carrying with his body. Bhurisrava and James hold their weapons warily, unnerved by the pale mauve tentacles extending from the darkness of the hood. Harley glances nervously at Nikal, then gets ready to throw Ricochet. She changes her mind and gets out her dagger.
The book, repeats the mental words. Not a voice, just urgent words streaming through their minds from this dark figure before them.
Bhurisrava cranes his head slightly. “Um, we don’t know what book you’re talking about.”
The light from the orb in the figure’s hand gains a reddish tinge, and somehow they all know that it is displeased.
That one has the book.
Harley, James, and Bhur exchange glances, and then Harley bends down and pries something out of Nikal’s frightened grasp. She looks at it for a moment. It’s a shoulder-slung bag, so she opens it an peers inside. Then, sighing, she tosses it at the feet of the intimidating stranger.
Without even moving, somehow the figure wills the bag to open, and slowly the contents of the bag levitate upward. Though the feat itself is not very intimidating, it raises the hairs on the backs of their necks, and they feel as though the air is stiflingly humid.
One by one, objects emerge from the bag, all typical traveling gear. There is no book. The orb’s light turns a dark red, and suddenly they feel a wind rush past them, as if moving from the intruder to Nikal. Nikal cries out in pain, screaming in agony, and without hesitating Bhurisrava charges forward and smashes the head of his warhammer onto the cloaked figure’s shoulder. It sags slightly from the impact, then turns its hooded gaze upon the priest. Nikal stops screaming and passes out, but Bhurisrava suddenly wants to run very fast.
He calls out for help, and James and Harley run to attack the cloaked figure. James slashes at it and Harley sprints around it to go for a backstab. It slashes across her thigh as she runs past, but doesn’t react fast enough to dodge her dagger strike. Harley’s blade pierces its robes and sinks into flesh. The creature makes its first audible noise, something like a wet gurgle of pain. It parries the attacks by James and Bhurisrava, then turns and smashes Harley to the ground with the side of its sword. Then, before Harley can scramble back to her feet, she feels herself being pulled upward by a force. The mist around the figure thickens as both Harley and her attacker levitate upward, out of the reach of James and Bhurisrava.
Harley cries out in fear as the force pulls her toward the dark figure. Hovering 20 feet above the ground, she has nothing to push off of to make her attacks, while the dark warrior seems perfectly comfortable as it draws back its sword to disembowel her. For a moment she cannot pull her gaze from the tentacles that extend from the shadows of the cloak, but then a shout from below draws her back to her senses.
James yells for her to get away as both he and Bhurisrava aim their bows upward. Harley tries to swim through the air to no avail, then shrieks as the bizarre sword slashes toward her. She curls into a ball and only gets grazed across her back, but the figure floats closer, too close for the others to safely fire at it without hitting her.
Just as the creatures looms above her, Harley twists in mid-air and kicks her legs out into the thing’s chest. She shoves away, moving back far enough to give the others room to fire. She shouts for them to shoot, and then Bhurisrava and James begin to launch arrow after arrow up at it. Harley sheaths her dagger and pulls out Ricochet, hurling it and missing because of her lack of purchase.
The dark figure hesitates for a moment as arrows tear through its heavy cloak, some sticking and apparently striking flesh. It floats away a few feet, trying to move to avoid their arrowfire, but over the huge clearing there’s no place to hide. The only thing constructive it achieves is ending its levitation of Harley. She gives a cry as she drops twenty feet to the grass below. She manages to land somewhat softly, but the fall still knocks her unconscious.
James and Bhurisrava continue to fire arrows at their foe, but Bhurisrava stops suddenly when he feels pain wash over him, making his body feel cold and weak. He drops his bow and falls to the ground, trying to regain control of his body. James continues to fire arrow after arrow at the creature, and finally it begins to drift slowly downward. The light globe in its hand disappears, and it pulls something out of its cloak, throwing it at James. He deflects it with the end of his bow, knocking it away and to the ground with a squishy sound. Not bothering to divert his attention, he simply stomps on the squishy thing while firing another arrow at the attack.
Just as the attacker finally lowers itself to the ground, sagging weakly from injury, Bhurisrava regains composure of his limbs. He stands, picks up his warhammer, runs forward, and delivers a crushing blow to the creature’s head.
James and Bhurisrava congratulate each other, and then the priest runs to heal Harley while James uses his sword to flip off the hood covering the thing’s head. Despite the deep depression in its cranium from Bhur’s warhammer, it pretty closely fits what they’d expected from Allar’s description of Illithids. Milky white eyes, slimy pale purple tentacles instead of a mouth, only a little hair on the back of the head, like a balding man. Prying open the robes is somewhat less messy, an reveals a body naked except for a harness that held a few vials that were shattered when Harley kicked it in the chest. It’s flesh is an odd mixture of human-like skin and slimy purple patches more like a squid.
Harley, now healed, comes over with Bhurisrava to see what it was they just killed. They obviously don’t feel bad about what they did, since the creature attacked Nikal first, with the telepathic powers Allar had mentioned. They just wonder why it was pursuing Nikal for ‘the book’ when Nikal didn’t have any book in the first place. Bhurisrava expended all his healing powers for the day on Harley, but he’s fairly certain Nikal will recover naturally. He just looks stunned from whatever he went through.
James checks out the thing he squished, the thing the Illithid had thrown at him. It looks like a fairly-large squid, about a foot across, with hooks on its four tentacles. Bhurisrava wonders aloud what it is, and James shrugs. Then they both turn when they hear Harley cry out in pain.
Harley stands over the body of the Illithid, holding the sword the creature had carried. The blade of the weapon looks like it is made of flesh and bone, and out of the hilt of the weapon extend narrow black tubes, like veins. The veins have begun to dig into Harley’s hand and wrist, turning her flesh an ashen mauve as the veins creep through her arm.
