Yttermayn
First Post
With a more thorough search of the derro's corpse, Rosalia finds half a dozen more vials. Each is individually housed in padded pockets on a bandolier that seems made specifically for holding potion vials. There are 4 more empty pockets on the bandolier, and Rosalia notes that the 6 vials still in it are of a different color and consistency than the ones Roderic handed her.
In addition, he had what appears to be a journal, a wax coated leather tube with a thick, vile smelling paste in it, a complex looking crossbow with 12 bolts, studded leather armor, and a shortsword. Being of a rogue-ish nature, Rosalia notices that the thick stinky paste has several divots in it, suggesting something with a sharp point has been dipped into it repeatedly. The greatest prizes, though, are the large diamond and a buckler that is inlaid with gold and silver runes.
The Journal:
OOC: Anybody know dwarven?
Edit: Actually, I see that several of you know dwarven, including Rosalia, the only one who can currently even knows of the journal. Ooooorrrrrr any of the other treasure, for that matter...
Rosalia reads, stumbling here and there as it becomes apparent that the creature was mad and his train of thought is sometimes hard to follow. What follows is an abbreviated translation:
Day 1) We set off today to reclaim our escaped property, which has headed sunward through some older/useless/unused tunnels. Our witches sense a great [untranslatable] disturbance above, the slaves seem drawn toward it.
Day 3) We are much sunward. Even those of us who are not witch can feel something strange around us. Numerous sign of the slaves.
Day 4) Strangeness increases. There was a cave in, one of our number was killed. We found water today, so we saved rations and stewed him. We are unsure how we will get back past the cave in, we are not equipped for extensive digging.
Day 6) We have found where the slaves have laired. There are many chambers. We have recaptured some of our property. Something is not right, they do not fear Derro. I took one for pleasure, and it made no sound, ever. It stared at me while I cut on it, and it made me feel things. Not pleasure, but something else beyond, and not from the pain I inflicted. I don't think the creature even felt the pain as its black innards slipped over my hands. It was as though the more pain it failed to feel, the more ecstasy I felt. I will sleep now.
Day 7) Nnnnnnnnnn. Pressing on. Found others, not slaves. [gibberish] Beautiful. They shout in whispers. The worms. [In a different ink, reddish brown, starting a new block of writing as though written later in the same day.] A few of us don't see them. They are not black, they are red. They taste of filth.
Day 9) [Written in large ragged letters.] I UNDERSTAND!
[The writer has stopped noting days passed.]
They have chosen among us those They want.
The chosen have gone inside. Oh, to be with the beautiful ones. I was left to watch over the vermin kobolds, and await Their return.
Further conflict between us is not Permitted. That doesn't stop me from mixing up a few surprises for them, should they go all black on me again.
Something has happened above. Neither of us is willing to leave our lairs to check it out. The vermin watch constantly. I'll leave them a surprise if they so much as breath against my curtain.
In addition, he had what appears to be a journal, a wax coated leather tube with a thick, vile smelling paste in it, a complex looking crossbow with 12 bolts, studded leather armor, and a shortsword. Being of a rogue-ish nature, Rosalia notices that the thick stinky paste has several divots in it, suggesting something with a sharp point has been dipped into it repeatedly. The greatest prizes, though, are the large diamond and a buckler that is inlaid with gold and silver runes.
The Journal:
OOC: Anybody know dwarven?
Edit: Actually, I see that several of you know dwarven, including Rosalia, the only one who can currently even knows of the journal. Ooooorrrrrr any of the other treasure, for that matter...
Rosalia reads, stumbling here and there as it becomes apparent that the creature was mad and his train of thought is sometimes hard to follow. What follows is an abbreviated translation:
Day 1) We set off today to reclaim our escaped property, which has headed sunward through some older/useless/unused tunnels. Our witches sense a great [untranslatable] disturbance above, the slaves seem drawn toward it.
Day 3) We are much sunward. Even those of us who are not witch can feel something strange around us. Numerous sign of the slaves.
Day 4) Strangeness increases. There was a cave in, one of our number was killed. We found water today, so we saved rations and stewed him. We are unsure how we will get back past the cave in, we are not equipped for extensive digging.
Day 6) We have found where the slaves have laired. There are many chambers. We have recaptured some of our property. Something is not right, they do not fear Derro. I took one for pleasure, and it made no sound, ever. It stared at me while I cut on it, and it made me feel things. Not pleasure, but something else beyond, and not from the pain I inflicted. I don't think the creature even felt the pain as its black innards slipped over my hands. It was as though the more pain it failed to feel, the more ecstasy I felt. I will sleep now.
Day 7) Nnnnnnnnnn. Pressing on. Found others, not slaves. [gibberish] Beautiful. They shout in whispers. The worms. [In a different ink, reddish brown, starting a new block of writing as though written later in the same day.] A few of us don't see them. They are not black, they are red. They taste of filth.
Day 9) [Written in large ragged letters.] I UNDERSTAND!
[The writer has stopped noting days passed.]
They have chosen among us those They want.
The chosen have gone inside. Oh, to be with the beautiful ones. I was left to watch over the vermin kobolds, and await Their return.
Further conflict between us is not Permitted. That doesn't stop me from mixing up a few surprises for them, should they go all black on me again.
Something has happened above. Neither of us is willing to leave our lairs to check it out. The vermin watch constantly. I'll leave them a surprise if they so much as breath against my curtain.
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