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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 3440295" data-attributes="member: 1210">Across the Blasted LandOur heroes march beneath a maroon sky. The ground is shattered and virtually lifeless; a few weeds poke up here and there, and occasionally there is a dying, wilted bit of scrub, but there is no real sign of life. The Ghost Tower of Inverness recedes behind them as they move into the mountains, following Sir Harth’s map towards this alleged safe cave. Dahlia, wild shaped into a bird, scouts in the air; there are no other visible birds or other flying creatures.The party ascends a mild slope to the ridge surrounding a small dell.  When they reach the top, they see a scene of utter devastation. Below them, the blasted remains of a small dell about a half mile long are visible.  Splintered remnants of trees dot the cratered ground in places.  A huge number of corpses, at least in the hundreds, lie blistered and burnt throughout the dell.  The stink of death drifts up from the carnage.“Ugh,” says Sir Cedric eloquently. “Should we search?” wonders Sir Colder with distaste.“No,” Sir Jorgen opines. “We’re on a mission. Besides, it doesn’t really look like there’s anything left out there worth searching. And the last thing we want,” he gulps, “is for more corpses to attack us!”The party passes quickly through the area. The dead are, to put it mildly, numerous. Here for the first time, our heroes see some evidence of life- flies, insects and other small scavengers feasting on the dead. The sheriff urges the others to hurry, and Colder and Me keep a grim watch for any hidden aggressors. Our heroes’ march through the battlefield is unmolested, but the dead everywhere are unsettling.A few hours later, there is another field of dead- but this time they are different: some kind of small folk. “They look like the guy who kept the death cows,” Sir Colder muses.“Gnomes!” exclaims Dahlia. Dead gnomes, about 100 of them. And scattered in their remains, the shattered metal bodies of about a dozen constructs that look basically like metal skeletons.*“Odd’s bodkins!” exclaims Colder.“Thethe thingth look motht unnatural,” Lord Cedric announces.“Yes they do,” Dahlia confirms. “They’re some kind of machine or something.”“Constructs,” Otis says grimly.“Let’s go,” suggests Jorgen.“Wait a minute,” Otis protests. “We should at least search this area quickly.”“I don’t think we’ll find anything,” the sheriff demurs.“Well, I’m willing to try, but if no one wants to help me, I’ll keep whatever I find.”Jorgen shrugs. “Fair enough.”The others take a break while Otis searches several areas of the field, returning triumphantly, bearing two rods and some kind of scroll.“Well, well,” he smirks. “I found these two rods- as well as this map.” He unfurls it. “The writing is in Gnomish,” he adds, gesturing at the strange characters on the parchment. This map shows much more than the area on the map from the corpse (presumably) of one of Harth’s men, and fortunately Otis can read Gnomish. “This,” he points, “is labeled ‘human capitol’... this is ‘Melgith, safety’... ‘mountains this way (danger)’... this jagged gash is just labeled ‘demons’.”“Fantastic,” says Sir Fwaigo (“Goer” to his friends). “The demons are between us and the capitol.”“I spotted a chasm far ahead,” Dahlia muses. “I’ll bet that is what the jagged line represents.”Perusing the map, Otis states, “Going around the demons necessitates going into the woods, here,” he jabs his finger at the map, “or here, into the mountains marked ‘danger’.”“We can worry about which way to go when we get closer,” Dahlia presses impatiently. “For now let’s get to this cave of safety!”“I’m getting tired,” Kyle whines. “Isn’t it time to rest for the night?”The group pauses. With the sky never much changing, with no sun or stars, it is difficult to rate the passage of time. Their muscles are sore, their bones weary. Kyle is right. So our heroes spend a little time finding a reasonably defensible position before making camp for the night, with fair success... not that there seems to be much to defend against, at least so far.As they bed down, Otis examines the rods he found more closely. Each has a number of glowing crystals on it; each also has a button. The only obvious difference between the two rods is the number of glowing crystals. Otis moves somewhat away from the party and holds one of the rods perpendicular to himself, then presses the button- and he is rewarded by a jet of flame that shoots from the rod! Cackling, he performs the same experiment with the other rod, to similar effect, even as the rest of the party bursts into motion, spooked by the display. Once they realize that it’s just Otis, they relax- but Kyle hurries over. “Master, you should let me have one of the rods,” he pleads. “No,” Otis declares. “I searched them out; I earned them. Perhaps when you graduate.”Sullenly, Kyle slinks away, but that night, whilst on watch, he pilfers one of the rods from Otis.The next morning the party begins to break camp. Otis hurries over to Kyle and demands, “Kyle, where is the rod?”All innocence, Kyle replies, “What rod?”Otis glares. “Give me the rod.  And give me your spellbook.” Reluctantly, and only after a great deal of complaining, Kyle complies; and Otis scrawls a fat “F” on the first page. Kyle is mortified.Our heroes move forward. They can all feel their bodies weakening due to some powerful environmental effect; moreover, the few of them with magic items are distressed to see them become worn and tarnished while exposed to the maroon sky.** But there seems to be nothing that they can do about it, at least for the moment.The party advances into a hazy area where the very air seems to put the group into a malaise. After an hour, they become slightly sick.“Let’s hope we can get through this fast,” groans Sir Jorgen.As the party moves through the haze, something gradually resolves into visibility ahead: a row of wooden Xes. “Oh crikey,” Kyle whispers in horror. The Xes run in a great long row, receding into the mist and out of sight. There are scores, at the very least, of elves hanging crucified from the wooden Xes. A gulping sound reaches our heroes. They cast about for its source for a moment, and then Dahlia points. “Caw! Caw!” Five surprisingly big vultures, with strange, red eyes and odd, slightly twisted shapes, are crouched atop several of the crucified elves, gobbling at tearing at the corpses. The sight makes Kyle and Dahlia slightly ill. It is but a moment’s work to dispatch the mutant vultures, which are surrounded by a stench so strong as to be nauseating; but they are no match for lances couched in a mounted charge, and for one of Otis’ fireballs.“Search them?” wonders Otis.“Not me,” protests Kyle.“They are crucified,” Jorgen points out. “They were alive. Surely whoever had them captive didn’t leave any good loot on them.”“Good sense, sheriff,” Otis nods approvingly.As the party moves along, the wizard moves up to walk next to Goer. “Sir Fwaigo,” he announces, “I believe that you should have this.” He produces the wavy-bladed dagger that the party found at the top of the Ghost Tower of Inverness. “My investigations have shown it to be magical.”“I use a sword,” Goer points out.“But there may come a time when you will need a dweomered weapon to harm your foe. You may need it.” He sighs. “Besides, it doesn’t appear that it will last for long.”When Otis drops back by Kyle again, his apprentice begins trying to persuade him to let him carry the second rod. Otis reminds him that he has an F. They squabble for quite a while, until finally Otis turns invisible, finishing the discussion.“Fine,” Kyle grumps, folding his arms and staring off into the distance. He gives a start. “Hey, look!” he tells the others. “Some of the elves have been taken down!”The party hurries over to check out the situation and see what, exactly, has happened to the bodies. It turns out that some of the Xes have been ripped from the ground and left to lie; the bodies are partially consumed.“What did this, I wonder?” Jorgen muses.“I’ll scout as a hawk,” Dahlia says, and her form changes in just a few seconds. She spreads her wings and launches herself into the sky. Meanwhile, Otis starts searching the elven bodies, finding the predicted not much. Kyle, meanwhile, says a few words over the dead in Elven. A bottle of whiskey goes around at Cedric’s insistence, burning as it goes into our heroes’ bellies. “Brotherth in armth!” Lord Cedric cries. “Bound together by adventhure!”The party continues marching after building a small cairn for the elves. Soon, they march on, and almost immediately they see a bird- whom they presume to be Dahlia- flying towards them. It leads the party on. Soon they spy a cave, and below it, a blasted crater. Dahlia swoops up and circles the crater, then comes back. Slowly, cautiously, our heroes approach until they can get a glimpse of what Dahlia is trying to tell them. When they do, the thing they see is bizarre and unnatural-looking. A brute of a giant, with three arms and an extra half a face, lounges in the crater. It looks like it’s napping.“Oh boy,” whispers Goer. Next Time: The crater giant!*Think the Terminator without its human outer coating.**Every day in the current environment, the pcs suffer 1 point of Con damage and put a wear point on all their magic items. Three wear points will ruin or reduce a magic item.</blockquote>

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