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Story Hour - Age of Worms (Alternate) - Sasnak's Game
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<blockquote data-quote="sasnak" data-source="post: 3224217" data-attributes="member: 17088"><p>Okay, we continue then - this next bit extracted straight from a player journal that was just so good, I couldn't bring myself to para-phrase any of it <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite6" alt=":cool:" title="Cool :cool:" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":cool:" /> </p><p></p><p>---- From the campaign Journal of Tolarus - Entering the cairn for the first time ----</p><p></p><p>Personally I hate this place; it’s like the introductory course to that caliginous catacomb of passages they call the mine. </p><p></p><p>As we descended into the dark depths we quickly came upon the slab the brave amongst us used as a bed when staying here. Still here was the cracked petrified bedroll the girl had used here whilst on her stay, along with some of her scattered belongings. Out of respect, we left them where they were. </p><p></p><p>Graffiti covered the walls from the entrance to this spot. All names of previous people who had taken up the dare and spent a night within the cairn’s chilly mouth. Somewhere in here was my own name, though I made no effort to look for that remnant of the past. Quite possibly the names of my current companions were here; and so too would also be that girl’s. </p><p></p><p>We continued on, past walls covered with tubular recesses, which we discovered were responsible for creating the eerie whisper that the cairn is so well known for. Eventually the foot marks in the dust and the name tagging petered out, and we found ourselves the deepest that anyone had been in the cairn in living memory, or written as judged by the walls. </p><p></p><p>Just as the signs of other explorer’s left us, we found ourselves between two alcoves in the corridor. One way was possibly a corridor, but had previously suffered a cave-in, solidly blocking any way through. In the other direction lay a strange and rather large artefact. </p><p></p><p>At first I thought that it must be the remains of a large mirror, but further investigation by the others revealed that it was in fact a broken teleportation gate to the plane of air, or so they said with an air of confidence. </p><p></p><p>The markings on the outside were some sort of glyphs, but we had no comprehension of what they meant; the monk, Calumm Qi Tun, crudely took some examples on a staff he was carrying so we could take it back to show Allustan. Not only did we find this, but the fragments of the mirror, made of a material we were unable to identify, the shards of which were razor sharp. </p><p></p><p>The monk, whilst trying to draw the glyphs, cut through both his sack and his staff very easily with the material. I took a sample of it for my own curiosity into what the substance might be, whether I take it to Allustan or seek some other authority somehow I have yet to decide.</p><p></p><p>As for the gate, I have my fears. Whatever could have come through the gate may have come through the gate. We had no idea when the gate was broken, as the material was unknown to us; all we knew is that in its broken state it was inactive. Our initial assumption was that it was sometime ago, but that assumption was based on the dust over the floor. </p><p></p><p>Potentially, beings from the plane of air would have some control of the environment, sweeping away or leaving no trace of their passing could be easy to them. Not only that, they could in actuality survive further down in the cairn since coming through, not actually needing to venture out as far as the mouth. For example, where does the breeze that creates the whispering noise come from? My assumption was always that it was air rushing into the cairn, but what if it was in fact air from those creatures somehow rushing out? </p><p></p><p>What is certain to me is that we must remain vigilant down here, lest we also disappear. So, from there, we continued further down into the cairn’s haunting depths... </p><p></p><p>---- DM break ----</p><p></p><p>At this point we cut scene to introduce the last two members of the party, a half-orc working for the local militia called Thokk and his charge, a priestess following the goddess of party an frivolity, currently encarcerated (not for the first time) for drunken and disorderly behaviour....</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="sasnak, post: 3224217, member: 17088"] Okay, we continue then - this next bit extracted straight from a player journal that was just so good, I couldn't bring myself to para-phrase any of it :cool: ---- From the campaign Journal of Tolarus - Entering the cairn for the first time ---- Personally I hate this place; it’s like the introductory course to that caliginous catacomb of passages they call the mine. As we descended into the dark depths we quickly came upon the slab the brave amongst us used as a bed when staying here. Still here was the cracked petrified bedroll the girl had used here whilst on her stay, along with some of her scattered belongings. Out of respect, we left them where they were. Graffiti covered the walls from the entrance to this spot. All names of previous people who had taken up the dare and spent a night within the cairn’s chilly mouth. Somewhere in here was my own name, though I made no effort to look for that remnant of the past. Quite possibly the names of my current companions were here; and so too would also be that girl’s. We continued on, past walls covered with tubular recesses, which we discovered were responsible for creating the eerie whisper that the cairn is so well known for. Eventually the foot marks in the dust and the name tagging petered out, and we found ourselves the deepest that anyone had been in the cairn in living memory, or written as judged by the walls. Just as the signs of other explorer’s left us, we found ourselves between two alcoves in the corridor. One way was possibly a corridor, but had previously suffered a cave-in, solidly blocking any way through. In the other direction lay a strange and rather large artefact. At first I thought that it must be the remains of a large mirror, but further investigation by the others revealed that it was in fact a broken teleportation gate to the plane of air, or so they said with an air of confidence. The markings on the outside were some sort of glyphs, but we had no comprehension of what they meant; the monk, Calumm Qi Tun, crudely took some examples on a staff he was carrying so we could take it back to show Allustan. Not only did we find this, but the fragments of the mirror, made of a material we were unable to identify, the shards of which were razor sharp. The monk, whilst trying to draw the glyphs, cut through both his sack and his staff very easily with the material. I took a sample of it for my own curiosity into what the substance might be, whether I take it to Allustan or seek some other authority somehow I have yet to decide. As for the gate, I have my fears. Whatever could have come through the gate may have come through the gate. We had no idea when the gate was broken, as the material was unknown to us; all we knew is that in its broken state it was inactive. Our initial assumption was that it was sometime ago, but that assumption was based on the dust over the floor. Potentially, beings from the plane of air would have some control of the environment, sweeping away or leaving no trace of their passing could be easy to them. Not only that, they could in actuality survive further down in the cairn since coming through, not actually needing to venture out as far as the mouth. For example, where does the breeze that creates the whispering noise come from? My assumption was always that it was air rushing into the cairn, but what if it was in fact air from those creatures somehow rushing out? What is certain to me is that we must remain vigilant down here, lest we also disappear. So, from there, we continued further down into the cairn’s haunting depths... ---- DM break ---- At this point we cut scene to introduce the last two members of the party, a half-orc working for the local militia called Thokk and his charge, a priestess following the goddess of party an frivolity, currently encarcerated (not for the first time) for drunken and disorderly behaviour.... [/QUOTE]
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