drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour - Book II: Inheritance

[drnuncheon]

Session Fifteen, Part Two: Tanaroa

Benares' Journal

Day Nine - The Jungle

The strange giant woman that Dru found in the woods proved to be a godsend - not only did she supply us with meat (of unknown provenance, but a welcome change from our rapidly dwindling supply of smoked fish), but she led us to the 'trail' to the village of men, which she tells us is called Tanaroa. In truth, it is more of a road, at least from the width of it. We should reach what passes for civilization on this island with another day of travel, which cheered us all immensely, especially the gnomish brothers, who have suffered the most in attempting to keep up with us.

Day Ten - Tanaroa

We have found our way to the village, and made contact with the inhabitants there, although there was a tense moment when we were the center of attention of several dozen men with spears, a situation I am not anxious to repeat. Still, we were able to convince them of our peaceful intentions.

Only one of them speaks our language - an old man named Mnembe, who learned it from a 'pale man who appeared from the air' - probably a wizard of some sort. If we can find his spellbook, we may be able to leave the island after all! Di'Fier is dubious about his ability to handle spells of the Fifth Circle but right now it is the only chance we have. The wizard vanished on his way to the 'City of the Gods', which we suspect is a remnant of the civilization that built the great wall that spans the peninsula this village is on - certainly it is beyond the engineering capabilities of the Tanaroans.

The Tanaroans, alas, are a people in dire peril. (I call them the Tanaroans although that is not strictly accurate - they share this peninsula and the surrounding islands with six other villages - Burowao and Panitube are the only names I was able to distinguish.) They believe that they have angered their gods and are being punished for it.

The reason we were so mistrusted is that another group of 'pale men' was apparently blown off course to this island many years ago, and they have been raiding the villages ever since. I will try to put it down in Mnembe's words:

Many moons ago—as many as six men can count on their fingers—there came from far away worshipers of evil spirits. They were pale like the grubs that crawl under rocks, and burnt red by the sun which was displeased at the sight of them. Their hair was as red as the leaves of an ojaba and it grew all over their faces like an animal. They came riding a boat that was a dragon, and they wanted to take the sacred sun-metal for themselves.

They landed at Kirikuka and attacked the people there, burning their long-houses and carrying off the girls and women. Then they moved to Burowao and did the same. And Panitube. By this time the news had reached Tanaroa, and the warriors of the Great Wall left to defend their homes. So when the raiders attacked Tanaroa we did not have the strength to fight them off, and they carried off our women and killed our warriors.

The Council of Matriarchs met for days to decide what to do, but it was the war leaders of the villages that decided it was time for the young men of the villages to go to war. And so the seven villages gathered an army, and Masawa the war leader of Tanaroa went to Goto the Zombi Master, and asked him for the help of the spirits. And Goto summoned a mighty spirit to go with them, and they sailed to the island where the pale men landed and smashed their boat and killed many of them.

But the gods were angered by our presumption, and they sent the dragon-god to punish us for destroying the boat that was his image. Now he rises out of the water or swoops from the sky to eat fish and fisherman alike, and the pale-man raiders come in stolen boats to take our women and our sun-metal.

I must finish later. We are to meet with J'kal, the leader of the village.

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Fifteen, Part Three: Dru Becomes Bored - Danger Ensues

"J'kal is a woman?" Dru said. "I think I could like this place."

Mnembe shot her a wondering look as they climbed the earthen mound in the center of the village. "That is not how it is done where you are from? How primitive." Then he waved them to silence, for J'kal had turned her eyes to them.

The Matriarch of Tanaroa was a wizened, frail figure: small and brown, as all of the Tanaroans, but stooped and bent so as to appear smaller still - yet somehow she dominated the hulking honor guard at her side. A golden medallion hung around her neck.

J'kal rose her arms to indicate the shipwrecked group, and spoke briefly in her native tongue. Mnembe turned to translate: "She wishes to know why you have come here, and what your intentions are for Tanaroa."

"She probably thinks we're going to be like those dragon worshipers," muttered Di'Fier to himself. Then, louder: "Please tell her that we are merely victims of ill fortune, and our goal is only to return to our homeland."

Mnembe dutifully repeated the words in Tanaroan, then nodded as J'kal spoke to him. "J'kal will now gaze upon your souls to know the truth of what you speak," he informed them as the woman rose with the help of her guards. With shaking fingers she lifted the medallion and pressed it to her forehead. Slowly, a curved line crept across its surface - a line that split, as in the center of the amulet an eye opened.

That's what the Swamp Hag wants? Dru thought to herself. She can just forget it. There's no way I'm going to tick off the closest thing this island has to civilization.

The eye roamed over the group, then slowly closed, merging seamlessly into the golden face of the medallion. J'kal sank back onto her seat and waved a hand, speaking a few words. Mnembe turned to Dru. "She has ordered that your weapons be returned to you and that you be treated as guests of the village."

"I'll bet we're going to have to go to this 'City of the Gods'," Di'Fier observed around a mouthful of fresh fish. "Even if we don't find the spellbook, well, they're gods. They'd be able to send us back."

"Maybe it's not the gods at all," Dru mused. "Maybe it's civilization. Then we could just get a ship back. Whatever it is, we should do it soon. I'm bored."

"I wanted to study the spellbook we got from the ship..." Di'Fier began.

"Bah, you can do that later. Mnembe tells me that people have been vanishing when travelling between the villages. We should go check it out."

"I-"

"I've gotten us some food," Dru pressed on. "I tried to get you some armor, but that war leader Masawa didn't want to give me any. I'll bet he's tied into this somehow."

Di'Fier sighed, closing the book. "All right. What can it hurt?"

"This seems familiar," said Di'Fier, pushing a hanging vine out of the way so Shesara could duck under it. Of all the hipwreck victims, only Benares and Shesara had elected to accompany the Watchmen on their exploration.

"This jungle? I'm sure we're headed the right way. The path hasn't turned that much," Dru said.

"No, the situation. I mean, here we are again, wandering around and hoping someone tries to kill us."

Benares laughed.

"We got some of our best leads that way," Dru objected. "And plenty of potions. I used to think that my father was deliberately hiring incompetent assassins, stocking them up on potions and sending them after me. His way of ensuring I had a steady supply."

Shesara frowned. "Why would your father send assassins after you?"

"Well, this was right after I had first joined the watch. He's sort of involved in the underworld so he wasn't too - do you hear that?"

"Sounds like...bees. Big ones," Di'Fier guessed. "Probably not what's picking off the travellers, but we should remember this area...maybe we can find some of that royal jelly stuff that Kathkallan had."

"It's getting dark." Benares pulled his makeshift pack off of his shoulders and set it by the trail. "We should think about making camp. I'll gather some wood for a fire."

First watch:

"Dru?"

"What is it, Di'Fier?"

"This clearing."

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't this big when we made camp."

"What the...you're right." A pause. "Should we put the fire out?"

"Then the trees might come closer..."

"Good point..."

Dru scowled at the trees in the misty morning sunlight. As the fire had died down, they had silently crept back to their former places. "I am totally out of my element here."

Benares returned from up the trail. "There's a group of people coming up the trail," he reported.

Without Mnembe, communication with the islanders proved near-impossible - a few moments of conversation had exhausted their knowledge of the tongue ('I am from Tanaroa. I do not speak your language.') but produced only frustration in response. The group repeatedly mentioned Panitube as they shook their heads vigorously and and waving potions with their arms.

"I bet something's gone wrong at Panitube," guessed Di'Fier. "We...will go...to Panitube," he said, slowly and loudly, trying to make gestures to suit his words.

This brought an even more vehement response, as the islanders pointed back the way the Watchmen had come. "Tanaroa! Tanaroa!" they insisted, but Dru was having none of it.

"Come on, the sooner we get to Panitube, the sooner we can kill whatever's causing the problem," she urged. "If I can't get off this stupid island at least I can take care of some troublemakers."

"I don't know," said Di'Fier. "Maybe we should go back. If we go to Tanaroa, Mnembe can ask these people what happened to the village."

"Bah. We came into this ignorant, why let that stop us now?"

"From what Mnembe told us, we should be about six miles outside of Burowao," Benares said. "But it's getting dark. I don't think we'd make it before sunset."

Shesara collapsed on a log. "We should camp here. My feet are killing me. I just want to lie down and rest them for the night."

"Sounds fine to me. I don't want to run into anything else by wandering around the jungle at night," Dru replied. "I'll take first watch."

As the others settled down to sleep, Dru pulled her rapier from its scabbard and set it across her knees. The magic protected it from the worst of the wear and tear but it never hurt to keep one's weapons in top condition. Besides, the humidity was making the grip swell...

She heard it before she saw anything: a kind of rustling slither. Her eyes snapped up to scan the jungle, the grassy area they slept in...nothing. Wait...was that movement? Something in the grass? Or was it...

"Plants!" she bellowed, leaping to her feet, away from the clutching tendrils. "Attacking plants! Everyone get up! Di'Fier, Benares, get up!" Her rapier, ill-made for cutting, still performed admirably at slicing through the thin vines that groped for her.

Di'Fier struggled to rise. His arms tore free of the rootlets that had encircled them, but the vine around his neck was another matter. His vision swam as he saw Benares in the same position, pulling madly at the plant that choked off his air. Benares' vine began to loosen...but Di'Fier's did not, and the edges of his vision began to darken.

 

[Horacio]

Great update! (as usual, of coiurse, but great update )

 

[Zarthon]

Great update! (as usual, of coiurse, but great update )

I agree

 

[DiFier]

maybe for you but I have to hold my breath untill DR. N posts again

 

[Horacio]

maybe for you but I have to hold my breath untill DR. N posts again

Ouch, let's hope he posts soon

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Fifteen, Part Four: Panitube

Compiler's Note: You hoped I posted soon - and so I have! It was kind of funny watching Di'Fier turn purple at the game though.

Last night marked the end of the Isle of Dread. I have been falling far behind, I fear - I have 200 days of game time and about 2 months of real time to cover. How did I get this far behind?

Not only did I fall behind, I somehow messed up my numbering scheme. Session 14 was stretching longer and longer, mostly because it incorporated all of fifteen and part of sixteen! I'm going back to correct that after this post...but for now, Di'Fier needs to breathe!

Di'Fier struggled with the vine, trying to tear it away from his throat just long enough to gasp another precious breath of air. He could hear ringing in his ears. No, not ringing...a song. A song? The vine shuddered as something hit it, convulsed, loosened its grip a bit...he dug his fingers in and pulled.

Slowly, the vine was forced back, its tiny fibers still groping blindly for him. He forced it away, ducking under his arm and flinging it off, pulling his sword in the same motion.

Shesara's song faltered as one of the vines lashed across her chest, sending her staggering back as she twisted to avoid its clutches. More of the things quested through the grass, and he swung his blade like a scythe. Dru had grabbed one and was hacking away with the edge of her rapier even as it wrapped itself around her throat.

A tendril rose snakelike in front of Di'Fier, and he sent his blade slashing through the fibrous pulp once, twice, dropping it to the ground in three pieces. Benares battered uselessly at the vines with his staff, managing to keep them away from him but little else.

Grimly, Dru sawed at the vine, wishing for just a moment that she had a heavier blade - or maybe one of Ellerand's axes. She could feel the fibers parting, but she could feel her own consciousness fading as well. Slow, too slow. She could see the center of the plant now, a massive knot nestled in a stunted tree...if she could only warn the others.

She tore at the vine with blade and fingernails, falling to her knees. She could see Shesara tugging at the plant, trying vainly to unwrap it from Dru's throat, even as another one crept up behind her. Dru shoved her down, out of the way, hacking one last time at the vine on her before her blade sliced through the air at the new attacker, its arc cutting cleanly through the tendril.

She stumbled, fell to one knee, and tore at the vine around her neck. It came off without resisting, and she looked back to see that her last desperate attack had parted it. She tried to cry a warning to the others, but her voice wouldn't work.

Di'Fier saw Dru sprinting towards the tree. What is she doing? he thought, his blade cleaving into the dirt. Severed tendrils writhed a moment before stiffening. Her blade plunged into something on the tree, again and again, and finally he understood. With a yell, he leapt over another of the vines and charged.

Dru stabbed at the thing, her rapier thunking into the woody center. How the hell do you stab a plant to death? she thought furiously, her hands numbing from the abuse. She heard a strangled cry, and threw herself backward just as Di'Fier's blade came smashing down, splintering the plant's ligneous exterior and sinking deep into the pulpy center.

And then it was over.

"Is that..." rasped Di'Fier. "Is that what's...been getting travellers?"

Dru shook her head. "No...idea. You sound like Jaffar." She considered that a moment. "...we both do."

Benares and Shesara looked on in silent confusion as the Watchmen laughed.

Benares' Journal

Day Fourteen - Burowao

After the disastrous encounter with the plant(s?), which I have tentatively classified as a variant of vineus assassinatus, we decided to press on to Burowao, rather than risk spendingmore time in the jungle. To our great surprise and pleasure, the 'Zombie Master' here received us with much pleasure, and the ability to speak with us magically.

Perhaps I should say a few words about these Zombie Masters. They are the only practitioners of magic in these villages, and are generally considered to be dangerously insane. Yet for all that they are accorded a place of power second only to the matriarch and possibly the war leader - depending on the village. They are the creators and the guardians of the 'walking ancestors', some of which we encountered in the jungle outside the wall. The walking ancestors are frequently asked to do jobs that are considered too dangerous for the normal villagers.

The Zombie Master seemed rather amused when we told him of our entounter with the vine. Apparently the people of these villages know the signs of one, and did not consider that we would not have the same sorts of plants where we came from. He was impressed that we were able to fight our way free. In any case, we should be able to recognize them in the future.

He also confirmed our suspicions that something is wrong in Panitube - the people that went there most recently have not returned. Today, we will rest, and tomorrow press on to see if we can discover the source of the problem.

For all its silence, the village did not look peaceful. It was too ominously still for that. No animals cried in the forest, no fires burned, no people shouted, no children laughed.

They had waited for the cover of darkness before slipping in, letting the keen eyes of the elves guide them. Di'Fier kept one hand on the hilt of his sword as he crouched low and crept forward towards the stilted longhouses.

"Bottom of the hut," Dru murmured, avoiding the hissing sibilants that might betray their position. "Body."

They crept closer, sliding easily into the shadows below the longhouse. Dru reached out, rolling the corpse onto its back, and into the dim moonlight. "It was bitten," she said, scowling.

"It doesn't look like an animal bite," Benares said.

Di'Fier shook his head. They'd seen enough wounds like that in the aftermath of tavern brawls. "It's not. It's a human bite."

Something about the quality of the stillness changed, and Dru's attention flashed upwards. "There's something moving out there...and it's getting closer."

Shesara knelt, picking up a rock. She murmered a few words over it, and it began to glow. Dimly at first, it illuminated only the companions, but then the glow grew brighter, blazing forth until it seemed like high noon, but for the shadows that streamed away from them.

Greyish, hunched figures scattered back from the light, some crouched on all fours, others loping awkwardly on their hind legs. All were hideous, almost bestial - and yet unmistakably once-human.

 

[Zarthon]

Re: Session Fifteen, Part Four: Panitube

Greyish, hunched figures scattered back from the light, some crouched on all fours, others loping awkwardly on their hind legs. All were hideous, almost bestial - and yet unmistakably once-human.

Hmmm, I wonder... ghouls, ghasts or perhaps something more sinister

 

[drnuncheon]

Session Sixteen, Part One: Eaters of the Dead

"They're all around us," said Di'Fier. At the edge of the light, the creatures circled nervously.

"This light won't last much more than an hour," Shesara said. "I don't think we can outrun them in that amount of time."

Dru looked around. "Into the hut. There's only one entrance, and we can cut them down as they try to climb in. Di'Fier, what are you doing?"

The mage seized another of the huge ladders, dragging it awkwardly back towards the light. "We can break this apart, use it for a fire." Benares moved to help him, and as the elves stood guard, they maneuvered it into the longhouse.

The circle of creatures began to close in as Shesara mounted the ladder and the light retreated.

The light was dimming. Di'Fier shifted another of the thick logs onto the fire, looking out the doorway to see the things loping uneasily back and forth...back and forth, but slowly closing in as well.

A small knot of the things - perhaps braver than most - began to inch their way towards the dying light. In the dimness beyond, others scratched and dug at the ground of the graveyard that sat in the center of the circle of huts.

"Remind me again why we didn't pull up the ladder?" Di'Fier asked, as he lifted one of his crude javelins.

"Because they might try to come up it and attack us," Dru said, holding out her hand for the weapons.

"That's what I meant!" the mage muttered as he passed it over, then armed Benares before picking up one of his own. "On three?"

"Just throw them." Dru fitted action to her words, the wooden shaft arcing out to slam into one of the creatures. A moment later, Di'Fier and Benares' javelins did the same.

The things squealed in rage and pain, tearing the shafts from their flesh and casting them aside.

"Good throw!"

"Shh!" Benares crept backwards into the longhouse. "I hear something..." He cocked his head, listening. "...they're on the roof."

With a hellish shriek, one of the creatures exploded forward, leaping more than climbing the ladder, charging into the blades of Dru, Shesara, and Di'Fier - and crashing down to the ground.

"They can be killed," said Di'Fier. "That's a good start. Now, let's see if they burn." Releasing one hand from his blade, he summoned one of the few remaining spells from his mind, and a globe of slowly shifting flame formed on his outstretched palm, illuminating his face with a hellish red glow. He turned his hand, and it arced towards the cluster of creatures, landing square on top of one.

The creature spun away from the globe, hissing, embers still briefly flaring on its charred skin. Its companions rushed the hut, but Dru and Shesara formed a wall of steel that forced them back, and Di'Fier's spell leapt eagerly on those who fell.

From the darkness behind them: "They're coming through!"

Shesara ducked under the claws of one of the creatures, planted her blade on the ladder, and shoved. Deprived of its footing, the thing scrabbled vainly at the floor, dangling from the entryway for a moment before Dru's blade pierced its eyesocket and sent it tumbling to the ground.

Di'Fier spun, racing to back up Benares - three of the things had come through the roof, and they stank of death. He kept a firm grip on his last meal and swung the sword, but the creature easily ducked the blow.

Benares was already slowing, blood running from a bite on his shoulder, and Di'Fier could see him stiffening - and then a claw raked across his stomach, opening four bloody furrows to a world of pain. Di'Fier slammed his blade into the offending creature, fighting the effects of its claw. He could hear Dru's battered boots charging from the front of the longhouse, and saw her blade flash in the firelight, sending one of the creatures to its fate.

Elvensong drifted through his hearing - Shesara's voice, bouying them up, giving them the strength to fight on as she dragged the motionless Benars away from the combat. His blade sent one of the things crashing to the timbered floor, but the other's claws found him, and his muscles could no longer resist - they locked into place, and the momentum of his swing sent him crashing to the floor.

He heard Dru's voice yelling in rage, a scream of pain, and then nothing.

 

[drnuncheon]

Re: Re: Session Fifteen, Part Four: Panitube

Hmmm, I wonder... ghouls, ghasts or perhaps something more sinister

Why only use one when all three mean three times the fun?

Well, the 'something more sinister' doesn't appear until next update, but...well, you'll see.

J