Of Sound Mind the Halfling Way

[cold1s]

Apocryphal Conversation to Correct Jester's Error about Ari

“No, thanks, anyway.” Replies Ari to Erasmuz in the later's native tongue, Undercommon, or Ondercommon as the small weird looking deep halfling calls it. Ari eats very little for a halfling and the deep-halfling delicacy Erasmuz offered looked a bit too slimy.
“Besides, I'm still not sure about that guy” Ari has witnessed Erasmuz cast a spell to conceal his philosophical leaning. Assuming all fellow adventures deserve some privacy, Ari said nothing, but he keeps that fact in mind.

“No problem, buddy, maybe later.” Erasmuz concludes.

“You dark halflings sure eat strange things.” remarks Tron as Erasmuz walks away.

“I'm NOT a deep halfling I'm forester of...” Ari sees the krach smoker recoil a bit.
“Sorry for snaping, but I'm all surfacer. Berk-born and proud of i! I did adventure with Nara and Erasmuz in the Onderdark for awhile.” Ari looks dramaticly to the middle distance “Yea, we sure kicked...”

“Oh.” replies Tron, but is already distracted by a pretty stone on the ground.
"I can get some money for this." murmurs Tron to himself.

 

[Alcar]

ShaazaM

sOMTIMeS tHe pUrsUit of craHk leaVes Me TireD aND dePleTed

 

[the Jester]

8/21/371 O.L.G., 1 p.m., Red Mountain

Our heroes are shocked.

So long ago that it seems a lifetime- a time that Naomi doesn’t even remember, thanks to the Axe of Oblivion- they received a prophecy, which they have come to refer to as the Halfling Prophecy, concerning the Halfling Promised Land. It came to them from a pool-bound serpentine figure composed of water.

Now, following the clues scattered by the fey folk, the party has come here- to another pool, and another weird; but this one is composed of snow rather than water.

Still-

“You come from my sister,” it says.

“Yes-” Ari begins, but the snow weird pays him no attention at all. It simply continues speaking.

“You come from my sister,” it repeats. “I speak of doom and boon. You must go back, for your own good. It is not your island. You must go there, go back. There you will find the hungry frog who impedes your folk from the ultimate recipe. The Promised Land comes from a full stomach. Only corn bread opens the way.”

“Mmmm, corn bread,” murmurs Nara.

“But what does it mean?” cries Naomi.

“Where Promised Land?” demands Jawbreaker.

The snow weird is already settling back into its pool. “Go back,” it whispers.

Silence settles over Red Mountain.

***

A search of the ruins turns up a new cookbook. This is exciting; it is possible, our heroes consider, that it is a clue, or some kind of key. Besides, that recipe for almond cake looks really, really good.

“I guess it’s back to town, then,” mutters Erasmuz.

“Yeah, I gotta get me some rocks,” Tron declares. The others shake their heads and sigh.

So back to town it is.

***

Before our heroes know it, fall has arrived. They are eager to get moving- where? Back towards Strogass seems to be the way that the clues are pointing. Zacradose will provide a ship, once some work is done on it. But some of our heroes are reluctant to return to Strogass; Federico, for example, has a heavy fine weighing on him.

“Who’s going to collect it?” snorts Rock, one of the halflings that the party met while working against Stackler. He has been tagging along with the party for the last few weeks, aiding them in their efforts to set Zacradose up to be self-sufficient, helping to promote the idea of the Unicorn King as sovereign over the isle.

“That’s a good point,” Federico concedes.

“Why do you owe the Dark Empire money?” Brother Yip asks.

With a sigh, Federico relates the tale of the Asylum for Advanced Mental Treatment, and tells his cohort, “We were unjustly fined for releasing prisoners of this terrible place. I mean, yeah, some of them- like Manson- may have needed to be locked up, but they did terrible things to them in there! For instance, they drilled holes in their heads and poured weird liquids onto their brains and stuff.” He shudders. “Anyway, we let the inmates out and got fined for it.”

The telling of tales goes on as fall turns to winter. A Unicorn King? What a strange idea; yet, perhaps if a council of human (and demihuman, of course) advisors were set up...

Spring brings explosive shoots of bright green on all the plants. It also brings a basic accord on the new government. Our heroes have been working hard, but in a way different than they are used to. At least the Revolution has been keeping them fed appropriately. Naomi has tattooed the new prophecy onto her left inner thigh (the original one was tattooed to her right inner thigh already).

The ship that the people of Zacradose are refitting for the party is not yet ready, but it is getting close and it is going to be in great shape when it is done.

And then, finally, as summer’s hot days waver over Zacradose, christened the Promised Land, their ship is ready at last. In the city of Bacon Bay, the party boards their ship and meets her captain and crew (who they arrange to pay by Tron’s handing over a rather enormous sum of cash to the captain for her and her crew to “shut the f*** up”, as Tron puts it. The captain- her name is Tarth- and the party come to a quick agreement, as everyone recognizes that Tron is not the right person to be telling anyone what to do. “Listen,” says Ari, “Nara will be our representative to you. If (ahem) anyone else tells you to do anything, just ignore them.”

“I’d be pleased to,” grins Captain Tarth sardonically.

The crew consists of mostly humans, but there are several others, including a gnome, Jorky Fetch, that Tron takes up with. Captain Tarth crosses her fingers. Jorky’s not that great of a crewman anyway, she thinks. Mayhaps he will be more useful keeping that addled ass off my deck.

The crew has one halfling on it, Penny Sandybanks (apparently a distant cousin of old Sandy, may he rest in peace). An angry woman half-elf, a couple of half-orcs, a goblin and a merellin round out the crew. It turns out that a second halfling lurks below decks; he is the cook, whose name is Tooter Lender, but whom everyone refers to as Bacon Grease.

It is a colorful crew, with as many nicknames as real names. Blue Eyes, Stupid, Punch, Raw Fish, Pesky- a colorful and interesting crew indeed.

In the months since their encounter with the weird, our heroes have accumulated one more major clue. While waiting for their ship to be made ready, they had consulted with a sage who had told them the tale of the Vast Explorer. It was a halfling-captained vessel that had mapped and explored a great many islands and lands, many of them of special interest to halflings. Several decades ago, she sailed to explore a barely-charted area north of Dyshim, and was never heard from again. However, twelve years later, another ship had been in the general area and had sailed into a strange yellow sargasso that smelled like rancid mustard. There they had seen several ships mired; and one of them was the Vast Explorer. But before they could investigate too thoroughly, they were assaulted by a strange lobster-monster of huge size, and it took all the crew’s skill to survive the attack and escape the sargasso. It seems likely that, if any clues are to be found, the Vast Explorer may be a good place to look.

So it is that Nara gives Captain Tarth the word: “Sail north- north of Dyshim.”

“Aye,” she says, and the cries of the bosun are soon ringing out. A great bustle of activity begins on the deck. Slowly, the Promised Land swings out to sea.

Next Time: To the Mustard Sargasso!

 

[the Jester]

7/18/372 O.L.G., 3 p.m., at sea northeast of Zacradose

The navigator, Queffe Quaffe, is yet a third halfling on board the vessel.* She takes sighting in the morning, afternoon and evening, using the sun and stars for her measurements. She smiles confidently as she gets the ship further and further off-course through a few minor mistakes that compound over the first few days of the journey.

But it proves not to matter, for in the afternoon of the third day of the journey, a pod of dolphins swims next to the ship, frolicking in the wake. The merellin, Prikwikkakakak- who mostly just goes by “Prik”- jumps in with them for a while. When she comes back, Nara asks, “Can you talk to them?”

“No,” the merellin answers. “I speak Merellin, Strogassian and Whale, but not Dolphin.”

“They might know something about this sargasso,” Erasmuz suggests.

Nara nods. “I could talk to them with the right spell, but I don’t have it prepared. In the morning...”

“If they stay that long,” Naomi says.

Fortunately for the party, the dolphins do stay with the ship until morning, for they prove to know quite a bit about the Mustard Sargasso. The dolphins tell Nara (via her tongues spell) that their kind avoids the sargasso; the waters around it make them sick if they linger too close to it for too long. Also, it smells and tastes funny.

“But can you guide us to it?” Nara entreats them, and they agree to lead the ship most of the way.

When Nara tells Captain Tarth to follow the dolphins, the captain doesn’t even blink. She just nods and shouts commands to her crew, who respond quickly. The Promised Land swings slightly to the east and the journey continues. The only threat is Tron’s unfortunate habit of pooping in the party’s cabins.

***

7/24/372 O.L.G., 11 a.m., at sea northeast of Dyshim

“Captain! Sargasso!” calls Raw Fish from the crow’s nest.

“Well, that sounds promising,” murmurs Ari.

“Aye,” nods Captain Tarth.

Nara hurries to the ship’s rail. Several of the dolphins have gathered in the water below, chattering and clicking. She casts tongues and calls out, “Thank you! Thank you very much!”

“Be careful!” warns one of the dolphins. “The waters here are no good. Do not get caught- no ship can escape, once ensnared by a sargasso like this.”

“We will be,” Nara promises. “Thank you,” she says again, and moments later the dolphins depart.

“Now what?” asks Erasmuz. “We should be careful about bringing the ship too close to the sargasso.”

“Oh, we aren’t bringing the ship too close to the sargasso,” mutters the captain under her breath. Louder, she adds, “We will send an away team in the launches.”

“Hey, it’s our ship,” Nara says.

“If we are entangled, we’ll be stuck until we starve,” Captain Tarth snaps. “We daren’t risk it.” She sniffs the air. There is a tang of rancid mustard on the wind. “I can smell it,” she utters.

Jawbreaker just snorts.

“The launches sound like a good idea,” states Ari.

The ship closes in until the sargasso is only about half a mile away. By that time, the stench of the Mustard Sargasso has grown quite strong. The seaweed that they can see is a mix of green, brown and yellow. In several places, large clumps are visible, and along surface of the sargasso the party can see many different entangled ships, most no doubt merely rotting hulks.

“That’s a lot to check out,” Ari points out.

“We find promised land,” Jawbreaker declares firmly.

“Besides, we only have to search them until we find the Vast Explorer and whatever information might be aboard her.” Erasmuz smiles. “It’s not so bad, buddy.”

“I’ll send one of the crew with you,” Captain Tarth says. She scans the deck, then calls out to Queffe. “You’ll be joining them when they go into the sargasso,” Tarth declares.

“Aye, captain,” Queffe nods.

Within twenty minutes all is ready, and our heroes take a pair of boats in towards the sargasso. The closer they get the stronger the reek of spoiled mustard becomes. Huge mats of rotting seaweed stained unnatural colors are everywhere. As they approach, the party chooses a derelict vessel, almost at random, and begins heading towards it.

As they approach, they can see that they will have to clamber onto the seaweed mats to reach the ship. They leap onto the thick vegetation, which doesn’t have any problem supporting their meager weight, and tie the boat to a thick clump of kelp-like tubes. Then they proceed towards the vessel.

As they approach, Naomi sniffs the air. “Hey, is something cooking?” she asks.

“There’s someone aboard!” exclaims Rock, pointing. The others fix their gazes upon the ship’s deck, and indeed, what appears to be a gaunt human figure is standing up on the deck. One of his arms is missing at the elbow, and a bloody bandage is tied tightly around it.

“Hello!” calls Naomi.

“Visitors?” croaks the man. He stumbles back away from the edge of the ship. “Come, please, come up!” he calls.

Our heroes begin to ascend, climbing the slimy side of the vessel. When they reach the top, they find more haggard, ragged folk there. A brazier holds a small fire, over which a length of meat is roasting.

Naomi does a double take. It’s a human arm.

Next Time: The Mustard Sargasso, part 2- the Cannibals!

*Queffe kind of falls into a special category, as she is a new pc.

 

[the Jester]

By the time Naomi notices the arm roasting on the fire (smells like bacon, she thinks), the cannibals are already attacking. From behind a slime-encrusted mast, their leader (whose name, though our heroes will never know it, is Strujonius) unleashes an ice storm, pummeling our heroes with fist-sized chunks of hail! The crew of the derelict screams a chorus of threatening battle cries as they spring forward, clutching stained and filthy greatclubs. Though they are dressed in rags, they have managed to create crude armor from shells, bones, skins and rotting cloth. They are mad from months or years of hunger, forced to rely on cannibalism to the point that they drew straws only hours ago to see who would sacrifice an arm.

The cannibals rush forward, beating at Jawbreaker and Erasmuz with their clubs. Frenzied blows rain down at our heroes. But they respond quickly. Jawbreaker first whips out his axe, but a moment later he rages and shifts into black bear form as the cannibals pound at him. He tears into them, ripping one of them down and injuring another. Queffe and Nara step up to fight, swinging their weapons and striking their enemies, but the cannibals are surprisingly tough.

Erasmuz, meanwhile, grins evilly as he casts a spiritless weapon at Strujonius, and he giggles in glee as he strikes the enemy across the temple, wounding him severely and stunning him momentarily! He flicks his eyes across the deck of the ship; the battle is raging violently, with the cannibals all wounded but obviously still going strong. Jawbreaker, on the other hand, is criss-crossed with wounds and bruises from the sargasso clubs of the cannibals. He and Queffe keep ripping into the enemy, with the massive bear literally ripping one of them apart! He then turns and tears the armor of another one apart.

Foaming at the mouth, the cannibals scream and roar and swing their clubs, smacking our heroes about for quite respectable damage, thank you very much. Strujonius growls and shakes his head as he comes to his senses, and then he gestures and calls out a loud invocation. The seaweed begins entangling our heroes!

Erasmuz leaps out of the area. Taking advantage of his momentary escape, the ur-priest speeds forward and punches Strujonius in the groin with all of his monkish training!* His fist sinks into Strujonius’ crotch far more deeply than would be healthy, and Strujonius fall, stunned again, with a strangled cry!

Naomi channels the power of Fire and drops a fireball on the deck. It explodes with a terrific roar, searing cannibal flesh and dropping more of the vicious cannibals. Then the fattest of the halflings (she stands around 2’ 7” and weighs in at 59 pounds) lashes out with her mind, recalling agony on enemy after enemy.

Strujonius’ head clears again, and he pulls out his axe. A tremendous blow against Jawbreaker leads the bear chief to roar at him- and rip him to pieces! The cannibals, already enraged, roar again, but the tide has clearly turned. Though one of them knocks the bear out for a moment, Ari’s druidic magic restores him to consciousness and Jawbreaker roars as he returns to the fight.

It’s only a few more seconds before the last cannibal falls to a combination of Nara, Naomi and Queffe.

“Damn!” exclaims Ari. “That was rough!”

“Yeah,” nods Nara, casting another healing spell on the badly wounded Jawbreaker. “Those guys were completely insane. They say there is strength in madness.”

The party begins searching the boat, looking both for loot and for any sign of the vessel’s name. There isn’t much of either one, unfortunately, though the dead spellcaster (Strujonius) does have a key- to what, our heroes have no idea.

“Now what?” asks Nara.

“Back to the launches, and on to the next derelict,” suggests Queffe.

“Yeah, we may as well get on with it,” Ari sighs. “There are a lot of them.”

“Twelve, by my count,” Queffe says.

As they head towards their boat, however, our heroes are ambushed by some kind of undead that tears up from underneath them. It is easily dispatched, but it is a reminder that the sargasso is far from safe. The party moves back to the launch, in which they proceed towards the next derelict. Fortunately for them, there is one only a few hundreds yards away. As they move up towards it, they can see that it appears to be a Strogassian warship.

Ari whistles. “That’s a piece of work.”

“And the sargasso got it,” replies Naomi softly. Then, a little louder, “We must be careful.” She strokes her chins thoughtfully.

“It’s unlikely to be the Vast Explorer,” Nara points out. “I doubt whether a halfling would be given command of a Strogassian warship.”

“We should make sure,” opines Ari.

“I need to take a crap,” Tron observes.

“Wait ‘til we get out of the boat!” demands Ari. Naomi backs him up with a suggestion, and Tron subsides. But he has already defecated in one of the boats, not to mention the party’s cabins on the Promised Land, their own vessel. Ahh, the trials of traveling with a crahk-head.

“Hey, look!” exclaims Nara. She points at the sky.

A strange, butterfly-winged creature is flying through the sky. It seems to be about the size of a halfling- albeit one with wings- and is headed their way.

“Uh-oh,” groans Nara, “it looks friendly.”

Next Time: Dandylion Hoo! The warship! More trouble in the Mustard Sargasso!!

*Erasmuz is an ex-monk. Here we see him applying his Stunning Fist ability.

 

[the Jester]

“Oh, can you help me?!” the odd figure cries. Its colorful butterfly wings flap as it flutters through the air towards our heroes. It is a small humanoid, halfling-sized but outlandishly featured, with dainty antennae and big bright wings.

“Stand fast!” cries Ari. “Who goes there? What’s your name? Whaddaya want??”

“Oh, please!” the figure implores. She has, outside of the weird bits, an incredible- and undeniably halfling- beauty. “I’ve been marooned here, and I just want to get off of this terrible, stinking sargasso!”

“Oh,” Ari replies, “why didn’t you say so? Say, where are you from? Which ship?”

“Are you a halfling?” Naomi asks, puzzled. As usual, she is the blunt, socially graceless one. But the strange figure doesn’t seem offended. Instead, she shakes her head and answers as she lands about 20’ from our heroes.

“I’m Dandylion Hoo,” she states, speaking quickly, “and I’m half halfling and half fey. Please, will you help me?”

“Sure,” Nara nods. “I’ll tell you what- you help us, and we’ll help you.”

“What are you doing?” Dandylion asks, a trifle suspiciously.

“We need to check out these derelicts,” Queffe pipes up. “We’re looking for- what are we looking for?”

“We’re looking for the remains of the Vast Explorer, which was captained by another halfling,” Ari explains.

“What’s there?” the half-fey asks.

“We don’t know,” admits Ari. “But we’re going to find out!”

“Hopefully clues,” elaborates Nara.

“Maybe there’ll be some crahk there,” Tron says hopefully. He is scratching himself almost constantly and seems rather jumpy.

“Yeah, maybe, uh, anyway, we’re hoping to find clues about the halfling Promised Land. And then we’re getting the hell out of this place,” Naomi says.

“The halfling Promised Land?”

“No, wait, don’t ask!”

Ari tries to warn her, but Naomi is already throwing open her jiggling thighs to reveal the tatoos of the prophecies that the party has received. Dandylion wrinkles her nose, but gamely reads along. Naomi winks at the others. Then, she says, “Look, the long and the short of it is, we are investigating these other hulks, and we’ve got a ship- a way out of here- when we’re done. If you want to come with us, that’s fine, but you probably want to help us in the meantime. The sooner we’re done, the more likely you are to actually reach land somewhere else. And where did you say you were from?”

“Strogass.”

“No, which ship?”

“Oh!” Dandy exclaims. “I came from the Big Shark.” She gestures. “I think it’s that one over there.”

“Did you just come from there?” asks Nara.

“We should search it for anything of use,” opines Ari.

“Well, I think we’ve got one more that’s closer, first,” Queffe gestures at the warship just a few dozen yards away. She wrinkles her nose at the stench of the sargasso. The party agrees, and they all board the ship in question. Dandy, of course, flies up; the others climb up netting along the sides of the vessel. Once on deck, they examine the rusty and rotting hulk in more detail. It has an upper deck above the main deck, and our heroes head up into it to investigate. Queffe, meanwhile, tries to brush away some of the goop and slime to reveal the warship’s name, just in case. Unfortunately, she sticks her hand straight into a puddle of green slime! She shrieks in pain, but Naomi jumps forward and channels the power of flame to eradicate the growth. Ari applies a little healing and the party moves on, heading down into the below decks area after searching the upper deck and finding only seaweed and barnacles.

Below decks, the hull of the ship seems to have weakened and given way, for a deep pool of water drops out of the belly of the vessel into the seaweed-choked waters. Our heroes begin to search the area, when suddenly a strange, garen-like creature made out of kelp surfaces in the water.

Ari cries out as it tries to charm him. “It’s hostile!”

Dandylion casts cat’s grace on herself. Ari can hear the invocations she is chanting; they are druidic in nature! He casts her a quick glance, but then draws out and loads his crossbow. Naomi tries a recall agony on the creature, and it shudders, then changes to a smaller form- almost like a humanoid woman, but also composed of seaweed!

“What is this thing?” cries Queffe. She tumbles over next to Ari. Meanwhile Naomi continues a mental assault on it, surprised that it seems to be working but willing to use the fact to her advantage. Nara and Dandy start a pair of summoning spells, and Tron starts hurling his mind blades at it! Wounded, the thing tries to retreat, but the summoned creatures are sharks of one form or another, and soon the thing is torn to bits.

“Sweet, maybe we can get some money for that,” Tron says. “And get me some crahk.”

The others sigh. Ahh, Tron.

A search of the hold and the pool in the belly of the ship turns up the treasure of several previous victims, as well as their bones. The treasure consists of 1700 gp scattered about (it takes about half an hour for the party to gather the coins up with the aid of water breathing. Also down in the lair are a stoppered metal bottle containing a fluid that radiates magic, as well as some kind of magic wand and a magic ring. There is some nonmagical full plate that the party decides to leave behind, as well.*

As the party starts to leave the warship, a large thing explodes upwards from a hidden, slimy pool amongst the tangles of the sargasso. Roaring, it seems to have a fat body with a beetle-like head. It is covered in barnacles and has both enormous mandibles and great, ravaging claws.

Unfortunately, the creature manages to blind itself with a clinging length of seaweed, and before it can uncover its eyes, Tron leaps down upon it and slams his mind blade into it, triggering both his psionic weapon and his psychic strike, and the creature shrieks as its head explodes.

“Whoo!” shouts Tron. “Now give me all your white rocks! Yeah! Where’s the crahk?”

“Calm down, he doesn’t have any crahk,” Naomi says. “Focus! Focus! Stay focused!”

“Where’s my crahk?”

Again, everyone sighs.

Back to the launch, then off to the Big Shark. It is empty, as Dandylion claimed. By this time, it is nearly dusk.

“Why don’t we camp here?” proposes Nara. “We’ll just circumnavigate the sargasso’s main body, stopping at the various ships, unti we find the Vast Explorer.”

“Sounds good,” Ari says. “I can go tell Captain Tarth...” With that, he turns into a seagull and flaps away, returning a short time later and changing back into his normal form. The sun is just going down. “All right, they know what’s going on,” Ari tells the others.

The sun slips behind the horizon.

The party sets watches and settles in to rest.

Next Time: The party finds the Proud Gnome’s Wife!

*Unfortunately, as it turns out, this was a psionic item that the party missed.

 

[the Jester]

7/25/372 O.L.G., 8:45 a.m., the Mustard Sargasso

The strange stink of the Mustard Sargasso clings to the party. The sunrise only accents the strange yellows and oranges in the vast mats of floating seaweed. The derelict silhouettes in the distance give the view an eerie quality.

“This place is stinky,” complains Naomi as the group gathers their gear, straps on weapons and laces up armor.

“Part of it is Tron,” mutters Ari. Indeed, the crahk addict has a tendency to defecate in the launches the party is piloting (as well as in one of the cabins on the Promised Land itself!). Queefe takes the tiller and points the prow of the lead boat, and soon the two launches are approaching the next ship. Though the hulk is badly damaged by fire, it is still somewhat intact. Our heroes squint at the markings on the ship and can make out a name: the Proud Gnome’s Wife.

“It’s probably not our ship,” remarks Nara. The others agree, but the party decides to check it out nonetheless. After all, there might be clues, treasure or other interesting bits on board.

Indeed, when they board the vessel, they quickly ascertain that the fire damage looks worse than it is. The deck is still stable enough to hold them. They find a sealed barrel, which turns out to hold fresh water; but as they open the door that leads below decks, they are attacked! Three strange creatures seem almost to boil forth, and suddenly our heroes are in a perilous battle! Two of the three creatures are almost insect-like, yet they stand erect and seem clearly intelligent. The third is even more horrifying, having lobster-like claws and a face with great blank eyes and a mass of writhing tentacles below it!

“Daemons!” cries Erasmuz.

Weapons clash with claws; flesh tears and rips. Blood spills all over the deck, with our heroes backing off to gain enough room to fight. Tron uses his mind blade to devastating effect, and Naomi’s combined elemental powers and psionic attacks help beat the monsters back as well. Nara is initially flanked and sorely beset, but she manages to timeslip forward a few moments and barely escape death. Soon the battle is over, with the strange fiends hacked down and defeated, but our heroes are wounded and have expended many of their best spells.

As Ari and Nara apply some healing to Tron, the party wonders what the creatures were doing here. “They could have been guardians or something,” suggests Naomi.

“Or maybe they were the creatures that burned and looted this ship,” speculates Ari.

“I wonder if we can get some money for anything on here,” Tron mumbles to himself. “I need to get me some crahk.”

Continuing their search, our heroes find that the vessel is mostly empty of valuables. However, they do find another barrel of water, a barrel of salt pork (which they instantly begin snacking on), a cask of rum (“Nice!” remarks Naomi. “With this, and my ability to channel the elemental powers of water, I can turn seawater into rum!”), and a locked strongbox. The box is metal and does not look like it will open without some persuasion. Fortunately, Naomi has a flask of acid, and she uses it to burn the lock open.

Within the strongbox are a bag that proves to have 55 gp in it and the log of the Proud Gnome’s Wife’s captain. After some reading, this reveals that the captain was a gnome named Palthar, and that his ship drifted into the sargasso in a thick fog. By the time they realized what had happened, it was too late to do anything about it: they were ensnared. Things went from bad to worse within a day, when a group of cannibals attacked the ship, leading Palthar to call yugoloth guardians for aid. (“Aha,” says Dandy, “so that’s where the daemons came from!”) Palthar’s last entry indicates that he was going to attempt to negotiate a truce with the cannibals.

“I’d say that his attempt to negotiate a truce may have ended badly for poor Palthar,” Naomi remarks with a titter. She smacks her lips noisily.

“You are so gross,” Nara groans.

“Well, we’ve searched this ship pretty thoroughly,” remarks Erasmuz. “Why don’t we move on?”

The others agree. Erasmuz puts the log back in the strongbox and carries the box itself to the edge of the ship, where he waits for one of his companions to reach the mat of seaweed . He passes down the box and then clambers down the netting on the side of the ship to join his friends. The box is passed back to him, and the party moves back towards the launch. They are almost there when the seaweed below them begins to heave and undulate.

“What the-” Rock begins, but he doesn’t have time to finish.

In a spray of foul water and rotting coils of seaweed, terrible, water-bloated corpses begin to rise all around the party. Their teeth are sharp and their long, blackened nails have toughened into claws. The stink of rotting mustard rolls over our heroes, making them want to gag. The undead begin shambling towards the party, snarling hungrily as rust-colored water pours from them!

“Look out, buddies!” cries Erasmuz. He lays down the box and rebukes undead! The nearest four undead quiver and begin to cower from him. Dandylion pulls out a wand and dances forward, touching one of the water ghouls with it, and a cure serious wounds discharges into the undead, destroying it in a pulse of positiive energy!

“Bah,” snorts Nara. She channels negative energy like Erasmuz, and the remaining lacedons cower in awe as she rebukes them. With all of them cowering, they are easy to destroy, and then our heroes manage to reach the launch.

“Well, guys,” says Nara, “I think we should rest in the launch before we continue. I’m not in any kind of shape to keep going. Those yugoloths hurt me pretty badly, and I’m low on spells.”

“Yeah, I agree,” says Erasmuz.

“Then let’s have lunch,” suggests Naomi, looking at the sky. “I think we’ve missed elevensies.”

Next Time: The Vast Explorer! And at last, our heroes learn the answer to the question: Where is the Promised Land?

 

[the Jester]

7/26/372 O.L.G., 10 a.m., the Mustard Sargasso

“Promise me,” says Naomi.

“All right,” Nara sighs, “I promise we won’t miss elevensies today.”

“Fine!” Naomi’s fat face ripples into a smile. She coos and gurgles with contentment as she leans back in the boat, her grubby hands digging into the folds of her cleavage and coming out with a piece of greasy bacon. She starts munching on it with delight.

“The next ship’s just up ahead,” warns Erasmuz over his shoulder. Queffe grunts agreement. Naomi mutters around her snack, but everyone perks up and begins to check armor straps and loosen their weapons in their scabbards. This strange sargasso has already proven itself to be unpleasantly dangerous.

“I wonder if we can eat any of the seaweed,” Naomi reflects.

“Eww!” squeals Dandy. “Well, maybe.”

“I don’t know- remember, the dolphins said that it made the water all nasty. I bet we don’t find any mermaids here, either.” Erasmuz frowns slightly.

The hulk they are approaching is clearly old. It has been mired in the Mustard Sargasso for a long time- long enough to be almost completely coated in muck and seaweed. Rot has set in; many of the planks squish slightly beneath the fingers and toes of our heroes as the party climbs up. Rats scatter away from the adventurers as they clamber onto the deck. Tron poops on the deck, and for once nobody objects: it actually seems to freshen the air a little, if you can imagine that. Nothing of obvious value is visible.

“I don’t think that this is our ship,” Ari grumbles. “It’s been here a long time.”

“Listen!” barks Rock. The party hushes for a moment, and they can all hear the tell-tale squeaking of rats: lots of rats. Certainly, there are plenty on deck. They scamper away from the party’s feet, but not too far. Many of them look hungry, almost feral. Some are as long as a halfling’s forearm. Black, grey and brown, some festering with obvious disease, some with seeping wounds upon them.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ari suggests. The others quickly agree, and our heroes drop back down off the ensnared vessel and return to their launch.

“Still want elevensies?” cracks the druid, and Naomi’s face lights up.

“Oh yeah! It’s about that time!” Cheerfully, our heroes pause to scarf down some cupcakes and jerky (though Ari, strangely for a halfling, instead eats only dry salt crackers). Then they resume their journey, heading for the next derelict.

By the time they reach it, it is early afternoon. Again, this ship is covered by muck and slime and stripped of obvious valuables. This time, however, they can clear the muck from her name: the Favorable Trade Agreement.

“Well,” states Erasmuz, “this ain’t the Vast Explorer, that’s for sure.”

“Right,” agrees Ari, “let’s move on.”

Slightly less than an hour later they find an abandoned launch mired in the sargasso. Whatever people rowed it are long gone, and no clue as to their fate, origin or mission can be discerned.

“I hope it isn’t the very last one we check,” mutters Nara.

“With our luck, it probably will be,” sighs Ari.

***

5:10 p.m.

The next ship has the tatters of a vibrant white sail still fluttering in the occasional wind. Its deck has listed at a noticeable angle, and the slime and sea growth has grown onto the ship in many places. Clearly, however, it is of a more recent vintage than the rat hulk ship, and as our heroes pilot the launch around the edge of the mat that has engulfed the vessel they spot her name.

The Vast Explorer.

“It’s her!” Ari exclaims.

Our heroes whoop in joy. They can get out of this place soon!

Soon the group is on deck. They begin searching the ship- an old-style caravel. If there are any clues to the Promised Land...

They turn up a clue, all right.

The ghostly form of a halfling woman, dressed as a ship’s captain, appears on deck. Our heroes gasp. She lets out a moan and then a terrible cry: ‘My ship!’

“She must be the captain!” cries Erasmuz. He initiates a force screen in the name of prudence.

‘Halflings,’ the ghost says suddenly, looking around. She gasps. Spectral tears flow from her eyes. ‘My kind.’

The party is rapt.

‘My ship! My quest! The Promised Land...’ she moans.

“We, too, seek the Promised Land,” declares Ari boldly. “Can you help us?”

She looks at him, her spectral face in torment.* ‘Don’t know. Yes!’ She gestures impatiently at the deck. “Book! Book!”

“There must be a book on board somewhere- her journal or log,” Nara says. She smiles. “Did you find the Promised Land?” she asks the ghost.

“Book!”

***

Below decks are the undead remains of several sailors. The leader seems to be surrounded by some sort of drowning aura, and he is surrounded by a bit more than a handful of lacedons and a pair of wight lieutenants. It doesn’t take long for our heroes to overcome them, though; and in the end Erasmuz has seized control of some of the lacedons with his ur-priest powers.

After the battle is over, the ship is eerily quiet. The only sound, within or without, is that of our heroes searching the cabins- until they find the captain’s. And within- a book. The captain’s log. The log has a long set of entries detailing the halfling, Dorelle’s, scouring of the oceans for clues after receiving a prophecy:

Long have your kind sought your way to the Promised Land. Know this: it is not your island, yet you must make it so. The homeland of biscuits that make their own, the place of juice and wine, the fields of corn and pipe weed, the cows that give cream, the orchards of apples from which springeth pie- all these things are there, waiting to be plucked like plums from the tree. But first the isle must be freed by small hands for small hands, which can work the isle to paradise in but three years. Blessed is it, for it is the home of your rightful gods. Their breath is upon it, causing berries to spring forth. The fountain of wine makes the land drunk, and drunk it has gone defenseless; and there are those that would leave you all hungry. Drunk it was seized, drunk with power, and only drunk and with drink can it be freed from the dregs that hold it. Only the fountain of wine can set it free. And know that you shall fail, and die at sea; and you shall not rest until the feud is put to rest and the families drink together, and the island comes to your folk again.

“Similar to ours, but different,” Nara muses.

“Anybody got any rocks?” asks Tron. “Where’s that gnome at?”**

According to the log, Dorelle was put off by the line about failing and dying at sea, and the next few entries detail her struggle over whether to continue her quest. In the end, she did so, seeking out a sea witch who tricked the Vast Explorer into the sargasso. The last thing the witch said, mockingly, before she swam away is detailed in the log: ”The answer is right in front of you, and has been all along! The only problem is that you wrote down what you heard, not what was said!” Following this, Dorelle wrote: I think I have figured it out, and I am ashamed at how simple it was all along. It is right there, on the charts, east of Dorovex. Now if only I can break free of this sargasso!

“Right on the charts...?” mutters Ari. “Where’s Dorovex?”

“I know,” says Dandy. “It’s a province in northeastern Strogass.”

“Well, but- that’s where the Promised Land is?”

“It says it’s east of Dorovex,” Ari points out. “Where are the charts?”

A few moments more of searching turns up the captain’s book of maps and charts. Hurriedly, the party pages through it, until- “There!” exclaims Rock. “Dorovex!”

And east of it- off the coast-

Nara starts to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. “We wrote down what we heard, not what was said, too!”

There it is, right on the map, just as the weird told them so long ago, behind them: Natchoor Island.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Ari murmurs.

Next Time: The return of Beau!!


*She was bound by spiritual forces that restricted her ability to communicate about her quest and the reasons for her existence as a ghost- actually, if the party can finish their quest, they will lay her to rest for finishing hers for her (although they probably wouldn’t even know it).

**Tron befriended one of the sailors, a gnome willing to smoke anything.

 

[the Jester]

The Return of Beau!

Beau’s head throbbed in agony. The snake-man’s bonebreak had broken the bones of his face. He jerked painfully in the web that held him and watched as Lundey cast a desperate mending spell to try to stave off the burst of the small dyke in the back of the cave. Then she vanished as she blinked through the door. From beyond came the sounds of battle, and then the door seemed to vibrate and shiver for a moment. Beau groaned in pain.

Then Jawbreaker, in his bear form, crashed through the door, slamming it off of its hinges and propelling himself over it. He was just in time: the dyke burst and water roared out and flooded the tunnel. Beau gulped in a great gulp of air and then it hit, tearing the webs free from their anchors in the cave wall. His face burst into a white-hot explosion of pain as he was swept away, nearless senseless! Battered and rolled, Beau was rendered nearly senseless. The water roared past, depositing him on the muddy floor of the cave in a disoriented, painful heap.

Slowly, as the sounds of fireballs exploded nearby, Beau dragged himself up and managed to get his bearings. There, he thought, the others are assembling at the stairway. Got to join them... He staggered over to the party and groaned for healing. As the party took stock of their resources, Sandy pulled out his healing wand and began trying to ‘trick’ it into working on Beau. After a few moments, he succeeded.

“This is bad,” somebody said.

Indeed it is. The party is badly injured and their resources are fairly depleted. The snake-folk did significant damage to the halflings in their assault. The group elected to make camp. Sandy and Beau waited for Lundey in the hallway below the stairs while the others retreated to the relative safety of the jungle outside. Beau’s face was still broken, and he was in considerable pain. His head throbbed.

Something... “Hey,” Beau painfully asked, “do you hear that?”

Sandy cocked his head. From the direction of the top of the stairs, there came a sound- almost like chanting. Nervously, he kept working on his wand of cure moderate wounds until he finally managed to heal both himself and Beau several times. Then the two of them crept up the steps to the door.

“It’s not locked,” whispered Beau, after checking the door. He pulled out his sword; Sandy pulled his spear, staying several steps below. His dog, Rider, stayed immediately in front of him.

Beau hurls opened the door and gives a choked, horrified gasp. There Lundey is- bloody and possibly dead in the great serpentine mouth of some kind of unholy snake altar. A muscular in monkish garb stands guard before a snake as large as a man, with muscular human arms. This terrifying abomination gestures and suddenly, Beau shrinks and changes, turning into a wee little garter snake.

Things are simpler. There is fighting and confusion for another few moments, and then comforting hands pick snake up. Stroking and a warm place to lay. All snake needs. Then there is more fighting, and new hands take snake. These are warm, but soon hands put snake into a box. The box is safe but not as warm as snake would like. Snake comes out of box sometimes when hands open it, and there are many rats. But now it is colder, and the air is wetter and tastes different. Also it rocks and moves; the ground is wood. Snake spends most of its time in box. No sun; there is wood sky.

Eventually it stops rocking and the next time snake comes out of box sun is in sky. Air tastes different; snake is somewhere new. Lots of disturbance and ruckus. Lots of rats. Sometimes snake is underground, sometimes snake is under sky.

Then snake’s head hurts for a while. Things feel bad. Air tastes very strange, very bad. Mossy and snotty. Not good tastes, although moss part strangely not bad. Weird things around, snakes under face but part of face, not really snakes. Strange, bad head hurt things. Bad things. Hands no longer come. Hungry. Rats. Then hands grab, back in box, go back. Under sun again. No more head hurt.

Then, after a while, wood sky, wood ground, rocking world with wet taste and cool air. Just started- even in box, snake knows. Hands come, pull snake out, and snake starts to stretch out.

Beau would fall down if he had been standing. As it is, he gives a loud, “UH!!” of confusion. “What- where- who- what’s going on?” he sputters, completely disoriented.

“Relax, buddy,” someone standing nearby grins. “You’ve just been saved.”

“Who- who are you?” Beau blinks a few times, then licks his lips. He feels- lean. He focuses on the other. He is a halfling, too- a bald-headed one, with a black goatee, moustache and eyebrows. He looks, Beau thinks warily, rather sinister.

“My name is Erasmuz,” the other replies. “What do you remember?”

“I- I don’t know,” Beau stammers. He tries to sort it out. He remembers Lundey’s death, and then- what?

General contentment? Was he a prisoner? He can’t remember much of anything...

“You were my magic snake,” Erasmuz crows. “I’ve been trying everything to find out what you were. Every time I learn a new spell or power that would help, I’ve been casting it to try to figure you out.”

“What- what worked?”

“Break enchantment,” declares the sinister-looking Erasmuz. “Now, who are you, buddy?”

“My name is Beau,” the former snake tells his- rescuer? And, interestingly, Erasmuz’ face changes.

“Beau!” he exclaims. “That travelled with Federico, and Jawbreaker, and...”

“Yeah!” Beau replies enthusiastically. “Do you know my friends?”

“Sure, buddy! They’re just up on deck, as a matter of fact!”

And so Beau returned to the party.*


Next Time: Return to Strogass! The quest for the Promised Land is on!!


*Beau is now Naomi’s cohort. Naomi’s player is the same player who played Beau before he was baleful polymorphed into a snake.

 

[Brain]

*Beau is now Naomi’s cohort. Naomi’s player is the same player who played Beau before he was baleful polymorphed into a snake.

Don't let Nara hear that. I don't think she'd like being mistaken for Naomi.