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!
From the journal of K. Garnham Seeker translated from the Valossan.
While we were getting our preparations made for the trip to Farshore Dexter, Maggie and I were approached by Elyosha with an interesting proposal. She believes that she is fairly close to a breakthrough in learning a new level of spells. It is possible that she will be able to cast reincarnate sometime after we reach the distant colony and she, quiet reasonably, requested some funds for the very rare components needed to cast the spell so that she would have them available should one of us die on this mission. It's been a long trip and I find myself wondering about what the implications of this are.
How strange would it be to wake up, a sword tearing through your stomach the last thing that you remember, and find yourself perfectly healthy, looking at the world through new eyes. To get up from my grave in clothes that no longer fit, rest my weight on feet that had never walked the earth and breathe in the night air with lungs that had never known the stench of the Burn Houses, the smell of good roast beef or the scent of a perfumed wrist.
Would I still be Garnham?
Would I act differently if I was half a head taller, half a stone heavier, was farsighted, was blond?
Possibly.
What about a more profound change?
What if that virgin flesh coalesced into an orc? What if elven legs lifted me from that grave? What if it was a woman's face looking back at me from the looking glass?
All so different from what I perceive as "me." Such profound physical changes would surely change the way I perceived myself, but how much does that perception alter my core; what it means to be Garnham.
How much of what makes us who we are is defined by the soul and how much the flesh? Will the soul remember the lessons the body has learned or have them fade into some dream?
If the new hands had never spilled blood; would I still be a killer?
Dexter and Urol the gnomish navigator sat on opposite sides of the barrel of coconuts they were using for a table, playing dominoes. "So the captain is so mean to me because of something some other gnomes did to her and her husband a long time ago??"
"That's what she said," Dex replied, laying down a tile.
"But that's not fair!"
"I know but she seems a good sort. She'll come around eventually."
"Well, there's only one thing to do. I'll have to be extra nice to her!" Urol hopped down off the coil of rope he'd been using as a stool and scampered off to find the captain. Dexter watched him run off and scratched his chin in contemplation.
"You know, that's a good idea," he thought to himself. He gathered up the tiles, and went off in search of Rowyn.
He found her hard at work swabbing the foredeck under the watchful eye of the first mate. "Hey Augie," he greeted the sailor, "How's she doin'?"
"She swabs a deck better than anybody called 'Lady' ever did before, I'll give her that." Rowyn shuddered under the strain of not being able to decide who to scowl furiously at first.
Instead, continuing her work and staring at the deck she muttered, "I thank you not to speak of me as if I am not here, you fools."
Augustus reached for the scourge of knotted rope at his hip but Dexter reached out to stop him, "Hey Augie, how about you take a break, I'll keep my eye on her for a while."
"Well thanks Dex, I'll bring you back some grog." Augustus Wendt left Dexter alone with Rowyn and went below deck. Rowyn looked at Dexter as if considering the best places to insert and break off a mop handle. Dex just smiled and took the mop from her, set it down on the deck and sat down, leaning up against the bulwark.
"Why don't you take a break?" The former Lady of the Lotus Dragons was not one to take charity from an enemy, but neither was she a fool. If not for the brief respite offered by this oafish half-orc she knew she'd be toiling under the sun until it set. She sat down a few feet from Dexter and brushed her sweat soaked hair out of her sunburned face.
Until foiled by Dexter and his friends, Rowyn Keilani had been the Lady of the Lotus Dragons, an up and coming guild of thieves in Sasserine. After her defeat at their hands she, "stowed away on the Bronze Dragon, intent on killing the adventurers once and for all. But they foiled me once again and rather than having the common decency to slit my throat and toss me overboard for the sharks, they instead spared my life and put me to work for that cow of a captain Amella Venaklie and her sniveling toady of a first mate, Augustus Wendt, names I'll not soon forget, names I've added to my list, ..."
"Uh, you said that last bit out loud, Rowyn." She only glared in reply. "So, uh... so that last time we fought, well, the time before last, not the time when you dropped me in the water with a shark and summoned that little salt water demon, the time..."
"The time you invaded my lair, killed my henchmen, toppled my guild and left me for dead?"
"Yeah! That time! So that time, I noticed you had a lot of books. Garnham, my brother..." Rowyn laughed. "Why does everyone laugh when I say that?"
"Obviously you haven't stood next to each other and looked into a mirror."
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm bigger than him. We have different moms."
"I'd no idea."
"Oh yeah, we do. So anyway, Garnham said you had books about women of questionable something or other, I wasn't really paying attention, I don't like books all that much. But anyway last time we were in port I got you this. I asked the guy for a book ladies would like. I figure its the same thing." He reached into the small bag containing all his worldly possessions, pulled out a small leatherbound book and held it out to her. She took it from him and looked at the title, A Treatise on Wynged Insekts of Freeport and It's Envyrons, Volume 5 of 9, Butterflyes and Such, by Egil Korkim, Tinelian Scholar, Twenty-Third rank. She flipped it open and silently read the dedication, 'To my friend
Lucius in thanks for his invaluable assistance in researching this volume'.
"Thanks. This is right up my alley."
"Great! It has pictures." She looked out at the sea and silently plotted her revenge. Dexter continued to stare at her, grinning from ear to ear.
"WHAT? What do you want? Why don't you leave me alone?"
"Well, I figure if we keep going the way we are, eventually we're going to fight and I'd hate to have to kill you."
"The feeling is not mutual."
"So I figure we could try and be friends. Work it out. You know. You want to hear about my adventures?"
She leaned her head back against the gunwale, "If you don't require my reply, talk all you want."
"Great! So the last time we went to shore the Silver Beetles..."
"Silver Beetles?"
"Oh, yeah, I had a dream. See, Maggie wanted to call our company the Pretty Little Violent Ponies, Garnham thought that was silly and said we should be the Quarry Men, don't ask me why, but then Lady Fyorovna said that it was just like a patriarchal stooge to choose a name with the word 'Men' in it and then I had this dream and so now we're the Silver Beetles. It was some dream."
"What is it with all you adventurers and your silly names?"
"You mean like the Lotus Dragons?" Rowyn snorted at this and leaned back against the gunwale. She seemed to doze as Dexter continued. "So Lady Lavinia wants us to go to the Isle of dread, right? Well, we went and got this boat and I got my old boss to help me shape it up and now we call it the Bronze Dragon. We filled it up with coconuts so I would have something to do and we got all these colonists and this jackass named Avner... that reminds me."
Dexter opened a small keg strapped to his waist. If Rowyn were awake she would have been surprised to see him pull out a live monkey, small, but still too large to live in a keg so small. He held up the small black spider monkey, and looked it in the eye. "Hey, go find Avner, and stuff grapes down the back of his pants," he whispered to the monkey who squealed in apparent delight and bounded off. Dexter continued his story, "Well, we went out to sea an you tried to kill us, you know that bit. Then we stopped off at shore and I got you that book, but then I came back to the ship because I was worried you'd get up to no good. No offense."
A light snore was Rowyn's only reply.
"But you were sleeping. I guess Augie worked you pretty hard that day. So when Bolk came back to the ship and started tugging on me, and Elyosha wasn't with her, I thought maybe Maggie fell down a well again, so I went with her. Turns out there was nothing to worry about after all. Nobody fell down a well, they were just fighting some evil faeries with red hats. So we killed them and took their stuff. That's pretty much what we do. Find evil people, kill them, take their stuff. No offense."
Rowyn continued to doze so Dexter got up to go find Augie. She woke with a start to Augustus gently tapping her foot with his. "Wake up Roe, breaks over."
"I'll have your liver for this Augustus."
Augustus sighed, "Every time you say something like that it just adds days to your time here. If you do your part and work with the crew, the captain could take it easy on you, maybe let you go on the docks instead of the Sasserine Gaol."
She just glared at him, picked up her mop, and returned to the regular boring routine of life on the Bronze Dragon. The gulls wheeled overhead. The sails vibrated like drum skins. The ship creaked and sailed along on calm seas under a strong wind. Avner Meravanchi ran up and down the deck screaming, a brace of monkeys chasing after him with handfuls of fruit. Other than that damned half-orc's clumsy attempts at diplomacy, things were back to normal.
There was a bustle of activity aboard the Blue Nixie. The sun had risen a short while ago and the best tide would be an hour from now. Garnham came on board and asked to see Lady Vanderboren. It was early, but he suspected that she would be awake by now. Half a dozen sailors cussing and throwing their weight around doesn't lend itself to lingering in bed.
In a short while he was lead in to see her.
As he had suspected she was already awake and dressed. She sat in what had been the dining room studying charts and drinking pungent tea.
"Good morning Garnham." She looked up from the charts. "This is unexpected. I hope nothing's wrong."
"No." He seemed distracted for a moment and repeated, "no."
"It's just that it will be some time before we're in port again and I'm not certain when I'll have the opportunity to see you again. I have something that I'd like to get off my chest."
"Go ahead."
Garnham steeled himself.
"What I'm about to say isn't easy. At least not for me. I hit the streets, I find hidden doors, I bypass traps, I deliver quality violence when the need arises. I'm not much of a people person."
She waited patiently for him to go on.
"I'm interested in you. Romantically."
"Ga..
Before she could respond he said, "of course this means that I can no longer accept pay from you. I'm still committed to the cause, but I wouldn't feel right taking your money. I can make do with my share of the spoils the Beetles rake in."
"I.."
"If you've already allocated the funds than you could just give my share to the others. I doubt they'd mind."
"Can.."
"I came across a journal that Avner keeps detailing his conquests both real and imagined. I could get it to you if you're in need of leverage."
"How does that have to do with anything?" She finally managed to get out more than a syllable.
"Nothing. I panicked."
He took the leather bound package off his back and placed it on the desk in front of Lavinia.
"I am Kai Garnham. Son of Misa Garnham and Emil Black. The only thing I have left of my mother is her name; the only thing of my father, this sword." He pulled away the leather to reveal a rapier in it's scabbard. It's hilt was a masterfully wrought iron rose. "If I have even the smallest chance of winning the heart of a lady of your caliber than I would be deeply honored if you would wear this." He removed the sword from it's sheath. It's polished surface caught the early morning light. "It's a good blade and will strike true."
He returned the sword to it's home. "And if you choose not to wear it then I will know that I have no chance and you won't hear another word on the subject." He placed the scabbard back on the table.
"I should leave now," he said and bolted out the door.
I have described this campaign as something of a sequel to the Swashbuckling in Freeport campaign. One might reasonably ask how the two are linked. So for the benefit of our readers I’ll try to call out those links when they appear.
The players are responsible for many of the connections between the two campaigns. The player characters represent the first set of connections, obviously. Garnham and Dexter are the grandsons of Nate Black. Margaret Teech is the granddaughter of Catherine Sullivan and Bill Teech on one side and Miranda Swallows on the other. There have been other references as well. Dexter’s most recent recap references both Lucius the librarian and Brother Egil from the Temple of Tinel, both of whom featured prominently in early Freeport adventures.
I have introduced some non player characters with connections to the first campaign. Arlen Huxley, half-elven captain of the Flying Flying, is the son of Huxley, first mate of the Albers when Bronson, Nate, and Sully come aboard at the beginning of the campaign. Augustus Wendt, first mate of the Bronze Dragon is grandson of Wendt, ship’s cook of the Albers during the same period. Lyle Underfoot, a halfling sailor and carpenter aboard the Bronze Dragon, is a member of the expansive Underfoot clan that has popped up in various games I have played in or DMed.
Other events and organizations connect the two as well. The festival of Empires’ Fall celebrates the destruction of the Empires of Atlantis and Cthonia, both of which featured prominently in Swashbuckling in Freeport. (Long time readers will notice the spelling shift from Thonia to Cthonia. Elyosha’s player suggested it. I rather like it.) The story of the downfall of those two great powers will have to wait for another time. In this campaign the malevolent Scarlet Brotherhood seeks to return Cthonia to its former glory. The Crimson Fleet, which appeared in a single adventure of Swashbuckling in Freeport, promises to take on a more prominent role in Savage Tide.
More connections between the two campaigns will become apparent over the coming months. In addition to my own plans I’m sure the players will continue to introduce connections of their own. For example, does the iron rose design of Emil Black’s sword indicate that it is the work of Kushervrick, Arakel’s lover who crafted her an iron rose amulet before his tragic death? Even I don’t know, but I look forward to finding out.
Last edited by Morrow; 20th June 2008 at 02:22 PM..
The smithy lay on an unassuming street in the Champions District. Garnham entered through the heavy front door into the weaponsmith's showroom. The walls were covered with common blades of ever shape and description. Furthest from the door stood a line of locked glass cases and the till. A steady pounding of iron on iron could be heard from behind a thin door at the far wall.
A young woman stood behind the farthest case refining the edge on a silvered short sword.
"Hello. Anything in particular you're looking for?" She smiled slightly. Her hair was red and she had both human and elven blood coursing through her veins.
"I have a rapier in need of repairs." Garnham placed a scabbard on the case.
The woman removed the blade from its sheath and inspected the scarred and pitted rapier. An iron rose formed the end of the pommel.
"This has seen better days." She said looking up from the work. "What crypt did you find it in?"
"It just wasn't well treated for a long time. Anything you can do?"
"I'll have to get my mother. I'm just apprenticing. This is a bit beyond my skill." She opened the door and called through. Garnham felt the temperature rise 10 degrees.
The steady pounding ended and the smith came to the door. She stood slightly over five feet. Long black hair with streaks of grey were pulled back and held in place with a leather cord. The points of elven ears were obvious. She wore work pants, a sleeveless black shirt and a heavy leather apron, well creased from where she bent and pivoted. She still carried the heavy hammer. Her shoulders and arms were whipcords of sinewy muscle. She was sweating more than any elf that Garnham had ever seen.
If she was human Garnham would have pegged her as being forty years old. Elyosha was 140 and looked twenty. Garnham did some quick math and came up with old.
"Hello ma'am." he started. "I was told that you could repair my blade. It was neglected for a while and I've finally raised the money for restoration."
The half-elf put on another leather apron, took her mother's hammer and went into the smithy. Soon the pounding resumed. The elven smith turned to Garnham. "My name's Livinda not "ma'am." I was a regular in the third light infantry for more years than your great-grandfather has been alive and I stayed a sergeant. Unlike the officers I work for a living. Don't call me ma'am. This your sword?"
"Yes."
"Looks like you 'plucked a Caerdel rose.'"
"Pardon?"
"Caerdel is a small city two days ride from Octenbrook."
"Where's that?"
"About three days north of Techan."
"And that's...?
"The cartographer's guild is on the other side of town. I'd draw you a map, but I've just established that we aren't the cartographer's guild." She hefted the rapier into the air and juggled the pommel from one calloused hand to the other. "Caerdel is a rustic town built up beside a series of mines. The iron from those mines has a higher than normal sulfur content making it ideal for high quality weapons manufacture."
"And the rose?"
"Making an iron rose is tricky business." She turned the blade pommel up to demonstrate with the iron rose at it's hilt. "To make individual petals that look like the real thing is the work of a master. Any fully trained weaponsmith can craft a blade that will hold a dweomer, but this," she nodded the rose, "this is art."
"Is it worth more?"
"Maybe a few silver. It's art, but few appreciate the difficulty in making it. That's the thing about Caerdel, almost everyone there does." She was animated now. She placed a length of leather on the nearest counter, placed the rapier on the leather and began to pick at the iron rose with a fine tool retrieved from an apron pocket. "Just a bit of build up to pick away and I should be able to tell you the caliber of the master that made this."
"How?"
"The number of petals. The Caerdel masters used the rose to not only signify the place of origin, but to tell the quality of the maker. Six petals was the minimum; the most I've heard of was thirteen maybe fourteen. The more petals the harder to make. This has at least eight, but there's so much crap in here it's hard to say. There's a lot of silversheen build up here and mud." She looked disapprovingly at Garnham.
"I've never used silversheen."
"Well somebody did and they were sloppy with it. Here we are. Twelve petals."
Livinda paused at this for a moment. Garnham caught her looking at the palm of his right hand.
"Nice tattoo."
"Thanks." He turned his hand away from her gaze. He didn't correct her mistake.
"I can take care of this for you. The cost will be three hundred gold."
"Not a problem."
"There is one thing more. My daughter Ressadriand will be joining the Champions District watch after she's finished her apprenticeship with me. I can't be found taking stolen goods."
"The rapier was my father's. He left it behind."
""Every sword that comes in here belonged to somebody's father."
She reached under one of the cabinets and pulled out a small wooden box. She carefully unlatched it revealing a fine pair of white gloves.
"I picked these up a few years ago to save me some trouble. If I hold the sword while wearing them I'll know how you came to own it. I'll also know some things about the people who had it before you. I'll throw in the history of the blade so there's no hard feelings."
"I'm not worried." Garnham said eying the magic gloves as she stretched them across calloused fingers.
She held the sword in front of her horizontally resting the flat of the blade on her extended palms. For a full minute the only sound to be heard was the rhythmic pounding of iron on steel from the smithy beyond.
"The blade was forged by a human named Kushervrick for an adventurer named Khasthyr. It was Khasthyr's desire to one day enchant the blade, but he spent his money on horses and never did. The blade passed to his daughter Nystoir after Khasthyr's death. Nystoir gave the sword as a gift to her lover Emil Black. The rest you probably know."
"That's my father for you," Garnham sighed.
"I'll have the rapier done in two days."
"And the payment?"
"I'll take it when you collect the blade. If you don't come back in a month I'll sell it."
"Fair enough." he shook her hand. "I'll see you in two days time."
Garnham left.
Livinda sat down hard on a backless stool.
She hadn't been completely honest with Garnham. Some of what she learned she uncovered with the glove's magic; other things she had known already.
Memory is strange she thought. The tale of the twelve petal rapier came to mind so easily. Yet she had to concentrate to remember Emil's face, the sound of his voice.
The gloves also told her about the man who now owned Emil's sword. He wasn't evil, but he also wasn't good. Like his father, but less wild. And he was an adventurer, she'd seen the type before. A dangerous job. Very exotic for a young girl.
Should she tell Ressadriand? It was just as well she didn't see the familiar birthmark on the human's hand.
Just then the steady sound of metal-on-metal rang with a sour note.
"RESSADRIAND EMILY BLACK!! If you've just ruined the breastplate I've been slaving over for the last two hours I'll tan your hide!"
Livinda rose to her feet. She'd already decided to tell her daughter the truth once Ressa reached her majority. That would be a little over half a year from now. Until then she didn't need to know she even had a brother.
From the journal of K. Garnham Seeker translated from the Vallossan
Today I witnessed a miracle.
A treasure map sold to a rube on the streets of Sasserine actually led to a real treasure.
Today the Nixie sent a long boat to the Dragon carrying Lavinia, Liamae and Tollin.
We were told that our navigator Urol had made an arrangement with Lavinia to explore ancient Olman ruins that lay on an island en route to Farshore. We were asked to accompany him with the two Jade Ravens.
Urol told us that a one-legged sailor sold him the map. The sailor told him that it was delivered to him by a dying elf who claimed to be part of an expedition that had met strong resistance from a basilisk. He ran before he was turned to stone like his comrades.
As soon as I heard this I was in a good mood. I personally know three people who run the map scam and know of half-a-dozen more besides. The chances of us coming across anything resembling danger or treasure were remote, but I'd grown tired of being stuck on board ship for the last several weeks. The idea of walking on dry, unmoving ground was very appealing.
We made our preparations and departed for the island.
We trekked for a time through the jungle and came to the ruins. Arrayed in the opening passage were a series of very life-like "statues."
The basilisk was drawn out and we defeated it without any of us being petrified. Urol had brought the magical means to restore two of victims and we decided to help our predecessors once we were certain we wouldn't have need of the slave ourselves. Liamae and Elyosha believe that the eyes and liver of the beast may be used in other restorations.
Heavy plant growth and centuries of collapse made all but two passageways impossible to explore in the time available.
We travelled down one until we found a room with a deep well. Something crawled out of that well. Something amorphous with dozens of eyes that darted around everywhere and many mouths that formed a bedlam choir. Tollin called it a gibbering mouther.
It attacked our minds. Some of us froze, others turned on our own, still others attacked it with a beserk fury. Only Liamae proved completely resilient to the madness. In the end we survived ourselves and silenced the strange voices.
Dexter and I spent an hour going through the mass grave that had formed at the bottom of that well. While we were busy with our charnal duty Laimae and Elyosha harvested the basilisk's eyes and liver.
We went down the last remaining passage. It led into a map room warded by the first significant magical trap I've encountered. Liamae confirmed it to be a class five incendiary, possibly mobile. I started with a standard Caldwell matrix. That suppressed the cardinal harmonics allowing me to access the dweomer imprimatur. I wasn't completely certain that the trigger was stripped so I dragontongued the base pairs and Liamae was able to confirm that the trap was clear.
I've enclosed a copy of Urol's paper on the subject of the map room and the other things we uncovered of an historical nature. For all of his eccentricities Urol might make a fine addition to our ranks.
We then came across a room barricaded by a wall of stone spell. Liamae and Dexter provided us access. Beyond we found a burial pyramid and a crazed man-bat. The man-bat launched itself at us and while we fought it was joined by a will o' the wisp. It was a hard battle, but in the end we won.
Exploration of the pyramid revealed a mummified corpse. I was quiet happy to discover that it wasn't the walking, Garnham attacking, type of mummy and was content to lay there all ancient and shriveled.
The man-bat had been guarding the treasure of an ancient Olman bat god. A golden bat statue weighing several pounds apparently made of solid gold. It radiates a slight magic, but we have yet to identify it.
We spent several hours letting Urol take notes and etchings. Before we left we restored two of the adventurers, a dwarven woman and a woman wearing the symbol of the Witchwardens. They seemed healthy enough, but are too disoriented to talk right now. We've secured their friends.
On a personal note I have fallen in love with Lavinia. My objectivity cannot be counted on in regards to her. I can tell you that I have believed for a while that she will make an excellent Seeker. She is a master at statecraft, a steady swordswoman and possesses an indomitable spirit. In my eyes she eclipses all others of her sex.
The kind of hope needed for that attitude is rare where I come from and is quickly beaten down when it does appear.
I have found myself hopeful since leaving Fort Blackwell. While my worse, if wiser, self steeled itself for your rejection another Garnham dreamed of other futures.
Then I saw you coming aboard the Nixie wearing your new sword. You are stunning wearing my greatest hope.
I apologize for my behavior in Blackwell. Not what I said, but the way I thrust it upon you. It was rude of me and I'm sorry.
I have been interested in you for some time now. I saw your beauty at the dinner table that first night, your strength as you discovered the truth about your brother, your wit as you dealt with the Dawn Council and your skill while dueling devils. You are amazing.
It took me until Blackwell for my fear of not telling you my feelings to overcome my fear of your rejection. I tried to put this down on paper, but the words weren't right and it was best that I tell you to your face.
I'm writing this in the heart of the Olman ruins. Urol is busy with his etchings and Liamae has agreed to play courier for me so I'm taking advantage of a few quiet hours to write the first love letter I have ever written.
If we were still in Sasserine I would ask you out dancing, but that won't be an option.
I would very much like to walk with you on the beach, share a good bottle of wine and watch the sunset together.
From the journals of K. Garnham, Seeker as translated from the Valossan.
I am in prison.
The walls are the ocean stretching out to every horizon and my cell the confines of the Bronze Dragon.
Less than a week ago a storm caught up the two ships of our expedition. When it had passed there was no sign of the Blue Nixie and no way to know if any of her crew or passengers have survived.
Not even Lavinia.
I have spent the past three days pacing out the length and breadth of my cell like any diligent prisoner, searching for signs of a way out; looking for signs of hope, but none have appeared. My mood is foul and I have separated myself from my companions to avoid venting my bile on them.
I have been negligent in my journalling of late and will use this time to update events. Hopefully it will help keep my mind off things that are, frankly, beyond my control.
After returning from Tamoachan the two survivors we depetrified were able to tell something of their tale. The dwarven woman is Ilsa Baldrick
a warrior and member of Zelkarune's Horns. The human woman is a Witchwarden abjurer named Sabine Taskerhill, the fifth or sixth child of Kalmadar Taskerhill, Cudgel District's representative on the Dawn Council and quiet possibly the richest man in Sasserine. Neither had any recollection about the elf who supposedly escaped the basilisk and started the chain of events that led Urol to direct us to the the ruins.
Taskerhill has some knack for alchemy and believes that she can use the basilisk liver and eyes recovered by Liame to make more of the depetrifying paste. She has been working on that in the hopes that she can return and recover her other comrades who are still stone statues on Tamoachan.
The next week and a half was uneventful. We encountered something odd at the mouth of the Havekihu River. I heard it referred to as a flotsam ooze. It was a large mass of living clear floating glue. Over the years of it's life it had accumulated debris which stuck to it's surface. It became attached to the Dragon and would have dragged us over the edge were it not for Dexter's great strength and a generous dousing of universal solvent. It was beaten and we found some valuables amongst the filth and corpses that covered it's gelatinous body.
What a glamourous life.
Some fine sailing from the Captain and magic from Elyosha allowed us to completely avoid a Scarlet Brotherhood blockade and in two weeks time we came to Fort Greenrock. What little there was that remained. All of the physical evidence showed that the fort had been attacked en masse by lizard people. There were no building that remained intact and no sign of the populace. Elyosha and Dexter found this odd. Lizard people don't usually coordinate strikes of this size. I personally hold a theory that the Scarlet Brotherhood aided the assault in some fashion. If not physically than at least tactically. I have no evidence to substantiate that and we lacked the resources to risk a direct confrontation with the lizard folk in their own domain.
Four days later we came to a waterfall where the Atikula river meets the sea. We stopped to take on fresh water and had to deal with a seven headed hydra. Ilsa demonstrated her skill with a weapon managing to sever multiple heads.
Two days later we made port at the last corner of civilization before Farshore, the Ohlman village of Renkrue. It proved a very pleasant locale and we set about some much needed shore leave. Lavinia and I were able to steal away for a few hours and enjoy paradise.
Avner also attempted to enjoy paradise; in his own loathsome fashion. It had become obvious that he and Lirith,one of the crew members, had been having a sexual relationship. Apparently the company of the young swordswoman wasn't enough for Avner and he attempted to purchase a native woman from her parents. This didn't sit too well with the locals and it took some quick negotiating from Elyosha and Maggie to keep the peace. In the end Avner was given to the village for one days indentured servitude. A day he spent toiling in the tropical sun.
I had previously made plans to steal Avner's diary of conquests, but had decided to wait. Fed up with the overbearing lothario I took the journal and substituted a similar one that had been through a wine related accident. Avner wrote of his encounters with Lirith. His tone and choice of words were far from pleasant so I passed them on to her.
Now Avner has the rest of the journey to recover from sunburn, practice celibacy and not drink fine wines.
We set out from Renkrue the next day. There was one change in the passenger allocation. Ilsa and Sabine transferred to the Nixie while Liame and Tolin joined us on the Dragon. I'm unclear of the exact reason, but I suspect that Sabine, who hasn't been enjoying sea life at all, didn't want anything else to do with Avner.
As expected we encountered the Pearl Current. It cost us eight days of hard sailing and skilled navigation. We passed, but did not stop at the island of Ruja.
Three days later we hit the storm and lost sight of the Nixie.
That was three days ago. I will now try to get some sleep for the first time in those three days. I pray that the dawn brings better news.
Last edited by Morrow; 29th September 2008 at 02:35 AM..
From the journal of K. Garnham, Seeker as translated from the Valossan
It's been three days since my last entry.
We found ourselves caught in a strange morass of seaweed that stretched out for miles around us, dozens of shipwrecks visible in the grim sargasso. The sailors referred to this as Journey's End. Scores of ships were supposed to have been lost to this place.
The weed was thick and strong; the crew dulled axe and blade trying to hack a path to open sea. They made no discernible progress.
Elyosha placed a blight on the weed, weakening it to the point that the Dragon was nearly freed. Some members of the crew went down to work at the blighted weeds when the remaining vegetation rose up into vine horrors, shambling mockeries of people.
Suffice it to say that they weren't friendly.
We fought off that attack with no casualties.
The Dragon was free of the immediate seaweed, but was still surrounded by Journey's End. Elyosha needed time to recharge her magics to make another go at the weed so we decided to rest the night and see what success we'd have in the morning.
There was another attack and we lost Yelda.
In the morning Elyosha made a concerted assault on the weed. Unfortunately it became obvious that we wouldn't be able to escape that way.
We had previously noted a ship near our position that seemed more intact than most of the other vessels. We decided to investigate. Dexter, Elyosha, Liamae, Tollin and I left the Dragon to visit the Rage while Maggie stayed behind to defend the ship.
What parts of the ship that we could access had been plundered. We barely were able to recover a journal kept by one of the former passengers, a monk named either Anhelm or Auhelm, water had made the script hard to decipher.
The journal recounted the Rage's fate after encountering Journey's End. It detailed attacks increasing as time passed. Eventually there was an expedition formed to find the heart of this place and kill it.
It had not been successful, but it gave us the information we needed to find the heart and mount our own expedition.
We went on.
As we approached we saw greater concentrations of the vine horrors. We kept ahead of them and made our way to the ship in the heart of the green web, the Thunderer.
We fought our way through several vine horrors until we finally made our way to the lair of the abomination.
We won out, but it was close. Bolk didn't make it.
With the death of the green heart the sargasso began to disperse. The Thunderer began to sink. Fortunately I had a boat in my pocket and we were able to return to the Dragon without having to swim for it.
While we were away the vine horrors launched an assault on the Dragon. Maggie, Captain Venkalie and Rowyn led the defense, but we still lost Jess Mobley from the crew and the colonists Therese Thoms and Quenge Asper.
There is a part of me that hopes that Rowyn's defense of the ship and it's crew is something more than self preservation. Dexter has made the effort to rehabilitate her and I would like to see something come of it. My worst, if wiser, self will be watching with a far more skeptical eye.
I can also confirm the fates of thirteen ships. I was on the Rage and the Thunderer. I passed the Vesper, the Desperado, the Basher, the Lamprey, the Landfall, the Broken Promise, the Albatross, the Argent Gate, the Maiden's Lament, the Longshanks, and the Trollop. The others were either too far away or too decrepit to identify.
From the journal of K. Garnham Seeker. Translated from the Valossan
Some time has passed since my last entry. We have found ourselves on the Isle of Dread, our situations greatly changed by new magics.
Five days after escaping Journey's End we were beset by a storm more potent than the one that separated us from the Nixie. I have to confess that my stomach, not bothered by average sea travel, betrayed me and I rode out the worst part below decks.
The Dragon found itself stuck on the reefs near the Isle of Dread. The situation turned bleaker when a giant eel-creature leaped from the choppy waters and attacked the crew. We fought it off, but not before it killed first mate Wendt and crewwoman Lirith. Maggie managed to get us off the reefs by magically raising the water. Elyosha used her magic to warp-wood-patch the largest holes in the hold.
Despite expert sailing prowess and Maggie and Elyosha's magic we still ran aground a hundred yards from shore.
We awoke hours later on the beach.
The only confirmed survivors were the members of the Silver Beetles, Arliss, Avner, Avner's horse, Rowyn, Captain Venkalie, Urol, Tovey, Lyle Underfoot and Barnaby.
We were awake for only a few minutes when a t-rex burst out of the jungle and attacked Arliss. The beast swallowed Arliss whole before we had a chance to rescue him. We fought the monster,but Dexter didn't survive. I crawled down it's throat, but it was too late.
We killed the bastard and spent time searching for survivors and supplies. Elyosha used newly mastered magic to reincarnate Dexter.
It was so strange watching his flesh both heal and...warp at the same time. After several minutes Dexter's hair and skin looked healthy, but he had lost a fair amount of weight. A few minutes more and it became obvious that Dexter's new flesh would be Dwarven. There was a brief moment that I thought I was going to have a sister, but the flesh coalesced into a male dwarf. He still had the birth mark on the back of his hand.
Dexter has taken his new situation well. I think he's a little disappointed that he didn't come back as something more exotic. I'm slowly getting used to his new face.
We spent the night healing. Elyosha took the opportunity to summon a new animal companion, a sun bear that she named Medvedya.
Rowyn has agreed to behave as long as her life is dependent on our mutual survival.
In the night we were attacked by a pack of terror birds and lost Lyle Underfoot.
The next day Maggie cast a spell and sent a message to Lavinia.
Lavinia is alive and well and in Farshore.
Urol estimated that we were about 10 days away from Farshore. We set out that morning for Farshore and Lavinia.
The day passed relatively quietly. Elyosha used her wilderness skills to avoid the worst of the jungle. We avoided a confrontation with half a dozen terror birds hunting a baby dinosaur.
The next day we caught sight of ancient Ohlman ruins. I'm curious about what we'll find there. We have the magical golden bat idol from the other Ohlman ruins. Elyosha identified it as some sort of magical key. I wonder if the lock is somewhere here on the Isle of Dread.
As we moved closer to the ruins we noticed layers and layers of cobwebs. We eventually came across an open air room with a stone throne. On the throne sat an ancient woman. Oddly enough, I caught the faint whiff of gingerbread in the air.
The old woman spoke to us in Sylvan which ELyosha translated.
She identified herself as Lithira and asked us about our purpose there.
We spoke with her a time. She told us that "four eyes have gazed upon you and his servants seek you out." She also gave us some practical advice for going through the mountains. She told us of an underground passage that would take us "safely" through the mountains. She warned of birds that nested outside the mouth of the passage.
With Lithira's warning we were prepared for the terror birds. Elyosha used her magics to hide herself and the castaways of the Dragon. The rest of the Beetles attacked and killed the terror birds.
A dear friend of mine named Urol wrote this letter for me. He did so even though I've made some tragic errors in judgment lately, because he's kindhearted and didn't like the idea of you worrying about me, not because I threatened him with any sort of physical harm if he didn't stop whining about a stupid dinosaur and write the damned letter already. I'm working hard like you said. Miss Lavinia made it to Farshore safely so we're doing a good job. We got stuck in a storm and attacked by giant eels, then our ship crashed and got destroyed. Most of the people on the ship died. The people who made it to shore are all fine. Except the ones that got eaten by dinosaurs. And the ones that got eaten by giant birds. Other than that everyone is fine. Garnham sends his regards.We're lost in a jungle thriving with fascinating indigenous life that for some unfathomable reason I completely fail to appreciate. You'd like it here. It reminds me of the stories you used to tell me about your childhood.We got directions from a kindly old woman who lives here on the island. She spoke a language only Elyosha understood. Then she turned into a spider and went and hid in some old ruins. The old lady, not Elyosha. Other than the spider thing she seemed okay. I will send money with this letter as soon as we get to Farshore. There's really no place around here to spend it and I figure you can use it better than I can. If you decide to donate it to charity I suggest the Ingalgete Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Abominations or the Foundation for the Promotion of Responsible Adventuring on Cauldron.
Your loving son,
Dexter
PS. A dinosaur ate me and I died. It didn't hurt though. And Elyohsa reincarnated me so I'm a dwarf now. But it's okay, I think I like it.
I'm glad you're continuing this after the long pause. I loved Jollydoc's telling of the campaign, and I'm interested to see how your characters handled it. I like the various viewpoints.
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I'm glad you're continuing this after the long pause. I loved Jollydoc's telling of the campaign, and I'm interested to see how your characters handled it. I like the various viewpoints.
I'm glad you're enjoying it. We only play Savage Tide once a month, so if we miss a game it makes for a LONG break.
We only play Savage Tide once a month, so if we miss a game it makes for a LONG break.
Speaking of which, thanks to some nasty weather here in NH, December's installment of Savage Tide was canceled. We're going to try to make it up by playing twice in January, so expect a double helping of Isle of Dread related madness in a few weeks.
What can I say about the Isle of Dread except that it’s, uh… dreadful. Hahaha. I crack me up. Anyway, we finally met some intelligent undead, but I’ll get back to that later.
About a week ago, I guess, Dexter died, and Aliosha brought him back AS A DWARF, which actually came in really handy because after we shipwrecked, we had to go through a pass under a mountain, and so his newfound stonecunning skills came in handy. Of course, he’s still annoyed about it, but I told him to embrace his new body as the blessing it truly is. He told me that I should embrace it, but I think he was joking. All the same, I could check “live male dwarf” off my list if I did, but if he’s really willing to help me with my list, he should have started helping me when he was still a half-orc, and then I could’ve checked off two, and it would have been much easier than doing it with two people. Speaking of my list, I really need to get moving on it because so far, I don’t have any checkmarks on it. I don’t think Aster would be pleased.
Anyway, we went under this mountain, and it was mostly just a really long tunnel, and then there was this throne room or something, which was pretty boring, and then there was a crypt, and I was a little disappointed because the people who built it were clearly worshippers of Meculatectli, who’s kind like Aster, except not as awesome. So, not only do these people already have their own god of death and undeath, but they clearly have no respect for him either because there were these mummies, and all they wanted to do was kill us, which I found quite rude. There was also this gross, oozy thing, and I try to respect all beings, but it was clear from the start, that all this thing wanted to do was undress Dexter, and he did not consent, so I thought it was quite rude too.
After we killed the ooze, we went outside and got on this coastal road which was fine, except that some rocks and skulls fell on us, and all of a sudden, Garnham got all surly and started throwing skulls around. It was kind of weird. Then we got attacked by gargoyles, and they were quite rude too. At first, I thought they were pretty goof judges of character because one of them pushed Avner off a cliff, but then Avner lived, so they probably didn’t do it right, and then when we got attacked again, they did it to Barnaby (who died) and tried to do it to Garnham, which I did not like at all. It wasn’t really too bad, though, because they left us alone most of the time, and only one of us died.
Oh, and then there was this thing with crucified birds. It was really weird. I don’t know why anyone would want to crucify a bird, but one morning, we woke up, and there were a whole bunch of them just outside our camp. I think it was Garnham who came up with the theory that they were crucified by other birds, but what could a bird do that would make other birds so angry, they’d crucify it? Maybe they were cannibal birds that ate the other birds’ eggs. That’s why I think everybody should just be a vegetarian. It would prevent a lot of bird crucifixions; that’s for sure.
So, we’re going along the road, and then there was this path that went inland, which Avner thought was a good idea, and Aliosha talked to a bird who told her the shore road ended ahead, but we checked it out anyway, and it did, and there was this Ullman guy who stabbed himself in the chest and fell off the cliff, which wasn’t very helpful at all. So, we went back to the other road, and Aliosha turned into a giant eagle and soared high above the land, and she said the other road looked safe, and really, it was fine, but then we got to the guy.
So finally, the guy. There was this dead guy, upside-down on a cross, with a big wound in his chest, and then he started talking to us, and I thought that was great because most of the undead on this island are so uncivilized, but then he told us we couldn’t leave, and I thought that was unfair, because people should really be able to do what they want. I mean, he should know that considering the degree of discrimination he surely faces on a daily basis, that people should be free, whether alive or dead. It’s just really a big letdown, but I think I can probably convert the guy. I just need some time, and he doesn’t want us to leave, so it should be easy. Should be…
From the journal of K. Garnham, Seeker translated from the Valossan
There was a time, not long ago, when I knew the name, the face and basic biography of every person that I'd killed; the abomination Alden, Mathias Carruthers and Damned Barker. Now I have trouble remembering all of their species.
We continue to make our way to Farshore from the other end of the Isle of Dread.
The old woman's advice on using the mountain passage turned out to be good. Five or six miles of very straight tunnel saw us through without too much trouble. Elyosha's new pet got nervous part way through, as if something were following us. We took precautions, but didn't encounter anything until we got to nearly the end.
We finally came to a carved stone room with what appeared to be a stone throne towards the middle. On it was a human skeleton pinned to the solid rock by a longspear.
We travelled further finding two large bridges leading across a chasm to a pair of large earthern doors. Our combined strength was unable to budge them so Elyosha used her magic to turn the stone around the doors into clay. That was messy, but effective.
We then came upon some sort of burial hall. Multiple dessicated corpses were placed into alcoves along the path. At the entrance was a statue that Maggie identified as Mictalantechtihi- the Ohlman god of the undead.
A mummy fight ensued.
While searching the area after the fight we came across a hidden door, behind which was the tomb of an Ohlman priest. There was a trap, but it was avoided.
Maggie and Elyosha had concerns about desecrating the grave,
In the fight with the mummies Maggie had turned one. It had run in the other direction, bolting into rooms we hadn't explored yet.
We followed it's trail and saw no sign of it. I scouted ahead.
The final room seemed, initially, to be empty. A plain space with water pooled into one of the corners. As I approached the water an amophous pseudopod reached out and tried to grab me.
Fortunately it missed. I pulled back. Medvedya charged the blob and Dexter followed the bear.
Two minutes later the blob is dead, Dexter is naked and Maggie is telling him that he should embrace his body. Dexter had a counteroffer.
A pulley system we had found in the room before the one with the blob opened the exterior doors.
As an aside I would like to point out the sophistication of the Ohlman society that dug this place into the mountain. Tunneling that many, relatively straight, miles through that much mountain is a feat that I would normally only associate with Dwarven engineering. The trap I bypassed and the mechanism for opening the exterior door were efficiently made and managed to survive the centuries while maintaining their functionality.
The open air was welcome to us all. Especially Captain Venkalie who didn't take to underground travel that well.
The doors led out to open beach. A man-made path led up and skirted the mountains and sea.
We travelled along the path for some time and rested.
The next day the path ran along a sheer cliff face. As we passed rocks came tumbling down upon us. Among the rocks were several human skulls.
I assumed they were dropped on us by the servants of the four-eyed being that we had been warned about. I wrote my innermost feelings about Four-eyes on one of the skulls and threw it over the cliff. I sincerely hope that Four-eyes has a reproductive system, otherwise it may not understand my heartfelt message.
Nothing else happened that day.
The next morning we awoke to find a dozen bird carcasses had been crucified Ohlman style and left at the edge of our camp. Elyosha and Urol could find no trace of anyone putting them there.
I used the wood of the bird crucifixes to repeat my message to Four-eyes.
On the road that day we were attacked by a pack of gargoyles. Gargoyles with Ohlman symbols on their stony flesh.
Avner was knocked off the edge by one of them, but we managed to save him before he drowned.
The next day we were also attacked. This time one of the pack stood out from the others. He wore a stone crown and bracers. Know Dexter wears a stone crown and bracers.
We lost Barnaby in that attack.
We made further progress and had a peaceful night.
The next day we came to a decision. The path passed open jungle. There was a man-made trail. Avner was set on re-entering the jungle, but the path we were on seemed safer.
Elyosha spoke to some birds and learned that the path we were on came to an end. Maggie asked for divine guidance and was told that the jungle trail wasn't a good idea. We followed the path to confirm the bird's story.
When we came to the end of the trail we saw an Ohlman man on the edge of a cliff. He stabbed himself and plummetted to his certain doom.
Or so it seemed. Elyosha detected a hint of illusion magic in the area.
Seeing no way to continue forward, we turned back and went along the jungle trail. Elyosha became an eagle and scouted ahead.
Over the next two days we weren't attacked by anything significant.
A fog descended upon us and the animals we passed grew increasingly odd looking and miscolored. Urol caught some lizards and tried to make them into a stew with some wild herbs, but the meat was tainted and the spices held no flavor.
Finally we made it to some ruins. Ohlman ruins if I have the architecture down.
There was a corpse tied to a wooden X in the middle of all this. As we approached the corpse spoke to us, welcomed us, told us that we would never leave this place.
Maggie is having a word with it right now and I'm taking a moment to get this up to date before the next round of violence.
Dear Diary,
I have to tell you all about my new best friend! His name is Golnura, and he’s a zombie, and he’s super-nice!! I was a little worried at first because he said we couldn’t leave, but I think he just wanted us to stick around because he was lonely. Dexter hates him, but I think he’s jealous.
Anyway, I told you already about when we met him, but I didn’t tell you how warm and friendly he was right from the beginning. He welcomed us right into his home. It was a little broken down, but I can cozy it up for him when we get back from our quest to free him from his oppressor and rescue Urol. I untied him and took him down from his crucifix right away because it didn’t look comfortable at all. He said that somebody named the Master of Fogmeyer was his master, so I decided right away that we should free him, but he didn’t really seem to care. It doesn’t matter, though, because once he gets a taste of freedom, he’ll be so happy that he won’t be able to stop thanking me and praising Aster’s name. I can’t wait!
The others decided we should not spend the night with Golnura, but we couldn’t seem to find our way back to the last clearing we saw. Just when we were about to settle in for the evening, three demonic monkeys came out of nowhere and attacked us. One of them took Urol, and one of them killed Taavi, Aster curse them! Unfortunately, all of them got away. I animated Taavi as a skeleton. It was the least I could do considering the devotion he showed me in life.
Thankfully, we were able to sleep through the night, but I couldn’t find Golnura after my morning prayers, and then we left right after to go find Urol. He probably went ahead of us to help us out. I hope he’s okay.
We wound up at this cave, and Avner threw a huge fit about not coming with us, which was fine with me. He just slows us down anyway, and alerts our enemies of our coming the ways he’s always crying and screaming like a little girl. We wandered around in the caves for a little while until we finally found some doors which led to a small chamber. Aliosha discovered its purpose right away, but we didn’t get it quite right on the first try. She lit a candle and then had to sit on a bloody chair, and then she touched a mirror, and all of a sudden, there were two of her. There was one trapped in the mirror and another one that was wild and tried to kill us. After we knocked out the scary one, everything seemed to go back to normal, and then Aliosha asked me to do the other one because she was afraid it would happen to her again. I lit the other candle, and had to sit in the other bloody chair. It was awful and humiliating. It reminded me of that time a few years ago when Megan McDermitt came to school wearing a new white dress, and then, well you get the idea. Anyway, it was horrible, but then I touched the other mirror, and I didn’t turn weird. Well, I didn’t turn weirder.
Then, we went through the mirror and came out in another room with more demonic monkeys. This time, we were able to get some of them before they got away. Not me so much, but I helped. A big mob of baboons jumped down from the ceiling and grabbed Garnham and me, but we got them too, and then we all went up into the ceiling and found a smelly room with a throne and a secret door. There was a chest with a lovely dire flail in it, and I didn’t feel bad about taking it from those demons. It was clearly a sign from Aster that I’m in the right place.
By the way, Aster, thank you for the dire flail. I’m sure it will come in handy. I had planned on buying one for myself, but we haven’t been anywhere I could buy one for so long, and if you saw fit to send me some Celestial Armor, I certainly would be grateful for that too. I mean, if you don’t send it to me, I’ll understand. I haven’t converted anybody yet, but I’m trying so hard for you. My devotion knows no limits, really.
Back to my story, though. There was a naga, and it looked undead, but before I could even try to turn it, Aliosha killed it, and it didn’t turn out to be undead at all. Tricky, tricky! We were pretty worn out after that last battle, so we went back out of the cave to get some rest and make sure our traveling companions were okay.
I’ll tell you more later, but right now, we have to go back in to try to find Urol and kill a demon.
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