# Byzantium on the Shannon III



## CleverName (Oct 7, 2002)

Well, I'm not going to hope for another story hour as good as the last two, for obvious reasons. BUT for those of you who read the earlier ones, I wanted you to know that Palaestra goes on. 

1) I'm starting a new campaign with some of the old players (Jon Hanna and Keith Martin) and new players on Wednesday. I'll be back with character briefs on Thursday after our character creation session. A writeup of the first adventure will follow after our first real game on the 23rd!

2) I'm re-doing the website - it's under constant re-construction right now, but there's actually some new stuff already there

(Check under Campaigns - Skia Thalassa for the new setup and map)

3) A d20 e-book should be out in  a few weeks that uses one of Palaestra's cities as a background. More on that later.


Here's the intro to the new campaign:

_ The campaign is set around Skia Thalassa (the Sea of Shadows) that separates the two halves of the human empire of Iconium and borders much of Faerie. The area of Skia Thalassa is a bit larger that the Black Sea, but not quite the size of the Mediterranean on our world. 

It is a place of brisk trade and occasional piracy and raiding — of both the more mundane and supernatural (monstrous) kind. Most merchants are well armed and stick to well—known routes. Only a few of the braver and more powerful Iconian flotillas actually stay under sail at night. Most merchants have small boats that put into shore at night. 


Even armed with magic and miracles, it's a scary place for many. There are sea serpents, waterborne dragons, aquatic races, and magical isles that seem to move about its surface. The most common threats are rather mundane, pirates and the destructive force on the sea — the weather. Mighty storm clouds build over its waters and they have sent more ships below the waves than any other power.

Generally speaking the Iconians (humans) have the most advanced ships, but these are relatively few in number. The bulk of trade is done in smaller keelboats owned by private merchants of all the races. Still, of all the "nations," only the Ionians have an organized, well—trained navy. The orcs of Rolgulka have some enormous slave galleys, the ljosalfar are generally regarded as the best seamen, but the Iconians are the most dangerous, ship for ship. Still, the navy can't be everywhere and there's plenty of piracy on the Skia Thalassa — the Iconian navy and patrols only a small part of the sea. 

While large human cities dot the southweastern shores of this sea, they treat much of the rest as a vast, unfriendly Faerie wilderness. They are half right.

There is a strong faerie presence here. One of Rolgulka's largest and most cosmopolitan cities, Varnia, broods over the northeastern corner of the sea. Scattered Cimbri tribes dot the northern shores, and a few rogue ljosalfar jarls have carved tiny kingdoms among the isles and inlets that dot its surface. From its shadows rises the great rock of Jormunsteinn, a seeming contradiction — a sunken mountain. Jormunsteinn's reportedly a single piece of granite, one of their holy mountains and great strongholds of the dekkalfar. (But then again the dekkalfar don't measure their kingdoms above the ground anyway.) Moreover, aquatic faeries, some inimical to all other cultures, are found here as well. 

The straits of Iconium, at the human's capital, experience some of the world's strongest tidal action as salt water slips into the Skia Thalassa — gradually pooling into its lightless depths. While freshwater creatures ply the rich waters above, even the mighty Kraken can live in its dark, salty depths. Generally speaking the areas around the straits and along the shores are saltier than the rest of the Sea of Shadows. _

Thanks and see you soon!


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## Old One (Oct 7, 2002)

*Glad to see the "Return of BotS"!*

Wayne,

Glad to see you guys are coming back!  How is Jon holding up?  I think about him frequently, since my wife and I are expecting our first in February.  Please let him know that others remember.

Looking forward to the new adventures!

~ Old One


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## CleverName (Oct 7, 2002)

*Re: Glad to see the "Return of BotS"!*



			
				Old One said:
			
		

> *Wayne,
> 
> Glad to see you guys are coming back!  How is Jon holding up?  I think about him frequently, since my wife and I are expecting our first in February.  Please let him know that others remember.
> 
> ...




Jon's doing better than I would. I'm hoping he will chime in, I sent him the link. He really did appreciate all the messages sent to the last thread. 

CONGRATULATIONS OLD MAN!!!! Please pass on my best to your wife! That's great news!


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## Gideon (Oct 8, 2002)

*WELCOME BACK!!!!!!!!!!*

If this story hour is half as good as the last two, my eyes will still bug out of my head.

Prayers still float Jon's way.


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## CleverName (Oct 10, 2002)

*Skia Thalassa Characters*

We got through character creation last night. The players started off at 6th level. We have several new classes and a new monster race being tried out, so I'm sure that I'll have a lot to report as time goes by. 


Jon Hanna
Makar Gideon -- Human Sorcerer (6th Level)
Jon's using Monte Cook's version of the class - much cooler, IMHO.
   Makar is a orphan who grew up on board merchant ships -- first as a ship's boy and then hiring himself out as a sorcerer mercenary. 


Keith Martin
????? -- Human Paladin (6th Level) 
   Keith's character believes that Logos called him to Faerie - to what ends he does not know.


David Nickerson
Copoc Kitzam -- Kulkan (Lizardfolk) Shaman (4th level)
   Copoc has been instructed by the ancestor spirit of a dead king to learn why the fae and humans are so much more successful than his kind. David and I are trying out Mongoose Press's version of this class.


Remi Truer
Malcom of the Vacomagi -- Cimbri (half-elf) fighter/rogue (3/3)
  Malcom used to be a great warrior of the Cimbri until he was laid low (level drained) by the inhabitants of a ghost ship. 


Another player, Steve MacDonald, will hopefully be re-joining us in November. Steve was set to play a 6th dwarf fighter until job duties pulled him out of the game. 

We are scheduled to play on the 23rd, but I hope to be able to post more character info next week as their backgrounds get worked out -- perhaps the players will beat me to it...


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## blargney (Oct 10, 2002)

*Welcome back!*

I've thought about you and Jon frequently, and I'm glad to see you're back, CleverName!

I'm looking forward to reading your new adventures!
-blarg


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## CleverName (Oct 10, 2002)

I'm glad you found us again blargney!

Thanks!


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## coyote6 (Oct 11, 2002)

*More Byzantium on the Shannon?!?*

Woo-hoo!

Great to see y'all back again.


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## Ingolf (Oct 17, 2002)

*Brief character intro*

Although born to a well-off noble family, Theon Agricola Ionness missed his chance at the easy life by a simple twist of fate. The younger of twins by a few minutes, Theon entered the world already in the shadow of his older brother Iaccobus. 

Neither brother stood to inherit lands or title from their father Rogatus; the main part of the family wealth was destined for the eldest brother Diocletian; the expense of marrying off several older sisters depleted much of the wealth that might otherwise have fallen to the twins. So it was that Theon found himself bound for the church and, presumably, the priesthood. But clerical studies came to him with difficulty; he far preferred to spend his time sparring with the garrison or riding on a steed he’d charmed the stablemaster into lending him for the afternoon.

Theon felt that the will of God was leading him towards the life of a Paladin; a holy warrior dedicated to the defense and promotion of the one true church. Theon bent himself to this cause, and at last the benefits of noble birth that he’d been denied were available to him. He trained with sword, axe and bow as well as the courtly graves in anticipation of his role as defender and emmisary of the church. Most of all he yearned to ride into battle alongside his fellow Paladins, on the semi-divine warhorses many believed were sent from heaven itself.

When Theon had shown his skill sufficiently and the truth of his calling to the order of Paladins was beyond doubt, he retreated to the wilderness and spent a fortnight in fasting and earnest prayer, beseeching God to confirm his status as a Paladin and show him the path he must follow henceforth. Weak with hunger and exhaustion, he finally fell into a swoon and saw terrible visions of war and slaughter. He awoke to the scent of fresh blood and a strange keening cry. Before him was a most unexpected sight – a strange beast with the head, wings and forelegs of a great eagle, and the body of a horse – a hippogryph. At its feet was a freshly slain yearling deer. Too hungry to question these developments, Theon cooked and ate the kill as the slow realization that he would not be riding, but rather flying into battle began to settle into his mind.

Theon feels that the hippogryph, clearly sent from Logos to serve him as his mount, is a sign, but a sign of what he is not certain. Undeniably a creature of faerie, the beast has nonetheless served him loyally and with great devotion. So it is that the young Paladin has set out from the Old Country of the empire to see what he might learn in faerie itself, while he seeks for a sign of what it is he must do with his life.


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## MavrickWeirdo (Oct 17, 2002)

*Yeah*

Verry kewl so far, but remember this DM doesn't give out benefits (such as flying mounts) without liabilities attached.


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## Ingolf (Oct 18, 2002)

Yeah, well, I've known the guy for 26 years, so I'm aware of the potential for character-screwage


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## Monkey Man (Oct 18, 2002)

*Character Intro II*

Jon Hanna here.  First off let me express my thanks for all of the kind thoughts and words shown on this board in regards to the horrific events in my life.  They are much appreciated.  

Now.  On to why were here…


Character Write up:  Makar Gideon - Sorcerer at Large

	Makar Gideon is a human orphan who grew up in the city of Antioch, a port city on the inner sea.  He has no idea who his real parents were, but ever since his sorcerous powers manifested, he is more curious as to that answer.  He was left at the orphanage when he was only days old.  They took him in, of course, and gave him the name Makar.  Gideon is the surname given to all orphans at the Antioch mission, since Saint Gideon is their patron.

	His early years at the orphanage were harsh and cruel, even by the stereotypical harsh and cruel standards recognized today.  His overseer was Brother Cuthred, a man devoid of any humor or pity.  Mercy was not in his vocabulary in regards to his charges.  Brother Cuthred was destined to rise far in the church.  By the age of eight, Makar had had enough of this life.  He had always loved the sea and the ships.  He decided to leave.

	Makar stowed away on an Alfar merchant ship, the Nidhug.  When he was found, he was taken before the ships captain, Skiold Annarsson.  Skiold decided not to throw Makar overboard just yet.  He thought that they could get a few good days work out of him first.  After working furiously, Makar impressed Skiold enough that the captain allowed him to stay on board as a ship’s hand, as long as he justified the expense of feeding him.  Makar stayed with the ship for years.

	At the age of 13, things changed.  That is when Makar’s sorcery started to manifest itself.  At first the rest of the crew were terrified of him.  Captain Annarsson, however, quickly ascertained the significance of Makar’s abilities, and the earnings potential that they represented.  He made Makar his bodyguard, to keep him close.  Makar quickly came to appreciate his rise in status on the ship, and readily obeyed Skiold’s orders, even when they were not necessarily legal.

The Nidhug traveled far and wide, and got into many adventures.  With a sorcerer who was steadily growing in power, and a hearty fighting crew, Skiold’s thoughts turned more and more towards dangerous outings.  He didn’t shy away from trying to make as much money as possible, regardless of the circumstances.  Merchant voyages came less and less, and soon adventuring was pretty much all the ship did.

When Makar was 23, things went wrong.  Captain Annarsson simply disappeared one night.  Makar had gone to fetch Skiold’s logbook from the captain’s cabin on the Nidhug, and bring it back to the tavern where they were drinking.  When Makar returned, the captain, along with everyone else in the place, was simply gone.  The food was still hot and half eaten, the mug still had a head, but there was no one to be found in the building.  No blood or signs of conflict were apparent.  Makar quickly left and returned to the ship.  They stayed in the harbor for a few days, and tried to determine what had happened, but were never able to find the answer.

Makar is now out on his on, traveling around, finding his own way to make money.  He enjoys adventuring, but he always has an eye out for clues as to his captain’s strange disappearance.


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## CleverName (Oct 20, 2002)

Thanks Jon and Keith -- there's a lot for me to work with (as usual).

Last time Jon's character, Zacarra, mysteriously disappeared for a period of time and ended up making him into a half-formor monster, etc. Now he's craftily shifted the mysterious disappearance to his background NPCs...

Keith, what's the name of the hippogryph? (I suggest something Greek-sounding.)

|-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_|

We will begin the game on board the a Dekkalfar knorr, the Gunnlod. The ship has a crew of 6, including the captain --  a  female dekkalfar named Solveig. The five members of her crew are made up of three male ljosalfar ( Modi, Olyn and Harold) and two dekkalfar named Brokk and Daneb.

There is a small hold and the crew have berths there along with the cargo. The PCs are the only passengers. The crew erects a tarp that you can sleep under during the night.

The captain is a pretty seasoned merchant/sailor, as are the ljosalfar. They are all middle aged for their races. The two other dekkalfar, Solveig's nephews it seems, are rather green. (In many ways, if you get my drift.)

You will have been traveling most of two days from Ainthorpe to Ulvorsi when the adventure hook is set (see the map on the website).


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## Monkey Man (Oct 22, 2002)

*Character Introduction III:  Copoc Kitzam*

Copoc Kitzam was hatched on the shores of Skia Thalassa east of Gelandri, where he spent his formative years frolicking in the bay and eating fish and water bugs with all the other lizards.  He was always dimly aware that he was somehow different, and his brood often thought it strange and delightful that he seemed to have lengthy conversations with his food before consuming it.  This was not strange to Copoc. However.  He often had conversations with shells, rocks, sand, and the waves as well.

     As Copoc grew older and his companions became great hunters and warriors, their differences became more marked.  They would swing their clubs and smash sea turtles, while he would catch glimpses of spirits everywhere, distracting him from his tasks and challenging his sanity.  Although most Kulkas are animists, their beliefs have become mostly ritualistic in nature.  Few Kulkas in his tribe claimed to have seen actual spirits.  Sure, the Shamans of legend brought forth armies of spirits and interacted with them freely, but they hadn’t existed since the egg of time.  Copoc was now finding himself surrounded by wisps of gibbering nothingness, which seemed to tell him that someone or something was coming.

    His tribe sensed something as well and began to shun him out of fear and uncertainty, approaching only when they needed one of his herbal poultices or healing concoctions.  No one understood him.  He was apart and alone until the night his Guardian Spirit arrived.

     The spirit called himself Kanul Yat Balam, the great Ancestor, First of the Kulkas, and he offers to be Copoc’s companion and guide.  Since that time Copoc has gradually pushed away from his traditional tribal homelands.  He does check in frequently, however, and is committed to improving the stature of his tribe.  He has contacted many more spirits and has recently boarded the Gunnlod at Kanul’s urging in order to mingle with other races and learn what he can of their philosophies and cultures.  Although he is a big lizard in studded leather, he appears rather gentle unless provoked.  He alternates between detached distractedness, and zealous curiosity.  Often he can be found gazing skyward and mumbling to himself in a strange tongue.


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## CleverName (Oct 22, 2002)

*Malcom of the Vacomagi's Tale*

Here is the last character entry from Remi Truer's PC:

My name is Malcolm and I am of the Vacomagi tribe; you may have heard of me. True, I grew up an urchin on the wharves of Vacomagus, but for several years I was captain of the Tall Reapers boarding crew on Rotting Curran's boat, 'Queen's Protector', captained by his daughter, the sorceress Ceileidh. Rotting Curran's been charged by Nighean, Queen of the Vacomagi, to make Skia Thalassa a little safer for ordinary sailors and passengers, a great man, even if he does have only one leg. We'd sail around helping folks, chasing off raiders from other tribes, that sort of thing. In return, the people we'd help would reward us (or else). It's an understood tradition out here on the dark waters.

It was a good life. Sure, sometimes we'd run into a group of Vacomagi who'd been charged by Nighean to make Skia Thalassa a little less safe for people out here. Those sorts of contradictions don't really occur to you when you're swinging over a bulwark on a frayed hemp rope you're holding in one hand, fending off the crew on the deck of the ship you're boarding with a broadsword in the other, praying that you don't fall in the water, because there's no way you're swimming in the fifty pounds of armor you're wearing. That was the motto of the Tall Reapers, "Don't Fall!" Most dangerous thing to a boarding party, regardless of what they're wearing, is the water between the two ships. Most likely you'd be crushed, shot or stabbed before you drowned, anyway, so might as well have a little extra protection.

Ah, sorry, sometimes I get a little carried away thinking of the old days. If you think I miss that life, I do, but I can't go back there. Not after what happened about a year ago. It was late afternoon on a cool fall day, much like today. It had been slow and the crew was getting restless when Idwal, saw a small merchant keelboat, not much more than a raft with a sail, being pursued by some kind of warship. 

Ceileidh decided that it wasn't a fair fight, and so we lent our aid. We drew close to the warship, and I'd never seen anything like it – although I imagined it was of human design. It had a sleek black hull, tattered sails, no oars, and it stunk! Ceileidh got Queen's Protector into position, conjured up a nice pocket gale to get us going, and we sidled up to that reeking, black ship before its crew could maneuver away from us – that is if it had a crew. No one was on deck as our grapples suck into its decks and we drew ourselves into boarding position. That's when the Tall Reapers swung onto the deck, but the rotten wood opened up beneath them --  the black ship's belly opened, and a half-ton of maggot-ridden corpses spilled onto 'Protector's' deck and come crawling after us, moaning and screaming. Their skin was thick and moist, their bodies bloated, their faces blue, and the salty smell of the sea could not cover the stench of their rotting flesh. Most of the other Cimbri on deck broke immediately, but my Reapers went to work, wading in amongst the filthy hordes that washed onto the Queen's Protector like a tide of undeath. 

Every time we pushed, sending dozens of Drowned Men back to the sea, more would come crawling out from the belly of the dark ship. The Tall Reapers had taken heavy losses in the fighting, but beyond the first rush, our comrades had come to our aid, and along with Ceileidh 's magic, we were holding our own. We cut the ropes binding the ships together but now the black ship’s crew formed grapples of animate bone and sinew. Before long, the sun was threatening to slip under the horizon. Fighting the undead under torchlight was not a palatable option. Ceileidh ordered everyone but the Reapers to man the oars in a last-ditch attempt to pull away from the black ship. 

As the oars hit the water, pulling us slowly away from the gaping maw of the black ship, the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared and night ruled Skia Thalassa again. From deep inside the ship, something let out a long, low howl, and then my men began to fall. A shape with a white face clamped onto Tenenan, and he was dead before he hit the floor. The Drowned Men continued coming as their master passed through my Tall Reapers. I cannot remember his features, only the White, and triune claw tattoo of the Three Mothers on it’s brow, but I can conjure the chill in my bones I felt when I faced him. It was only luck I did not die by the White's touch as the rest of the Reaper's did. If Ioan hadn't buried his axe in the White's brow, he might not have thrown me overboard, but he did, and so I live where the rest of 'Queen's Protector's' crew died. As it is I’m not the warrior I once was. That thing stole some of my soul from me.

But how did I survive the fall? Even if I hadn't been unconscious, I was terribly weak after the White's attack. I do not know if it was merfolk or a final spell from Ceileidh, but when I woke, I was on the very merchant ship we had saved. They managed to get away from the crippled black ship as it fought the Protector. They found me on their deck the next morning. I don't know what saved me, but I'm glad that I have another chance at life, even if I feel like I'm half the man I was a year ago. It took me six months to get back on my feet, and I've been doing some easy guard work to get some of my strength back, but now I'm striking out on my own. It's not that I don't want to work for Rotting Curran anymore, but I need to avenge my fallen Reapers, and Curran understands that. I don't know if I'll ever feel whole again, but killing the White would go a long way toward quieting the voices.


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## Ancalagon (Oct 24, 2002)

hey, glad you are back, and I'm happy to hear Jon is doing ok.

Haven't time to read the thread yet, but I,m sure it will be good.

Ancalagon


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## Monkey Man (Oct 30, 2002)

*ADVENTURE 1*

Adventure 1: Sailing, Sailing…

	Our adventure began on the Dekkalfar ship, the Gunnlod, captained by the Dekkalfar woman, Solveig.   The boat is a smallish stout Knorr, which the Alfar are so fond of sailing.  My name is Makar Gideon, and I am a human sorcerer.  I wonder as to whether or not I’ll be alive to finish this tale, when all is said and done.  

I was below deck, along with the other passengers making the trip from the Alfar island of Ainthorpe to the city of Ulvorsi, across the Inner Sea.  I had made some small talk with the others, but only knew one of them, Malcolm, from previous meetings.  Malcolm is a Cimbri fighting sailor who has crossed my path a time or two.  He seems like he would be helpful in a fight.  The two other passengers were interesting.  One, Theon, was apparently a Paladin of Logos.  What he was doing on this boat I’m not sure.  I don’t know which Logosian saint he follows, but he seems an all right sort of fellow.  He doesn’t scowl at the Alfar, as some of the more religious types are want to do.  The other passenger is a Lizard man, named Copoc Kitzam.  He is interesting.  I haven’t really met too many lizard folk.  Usually they keep to themselves.  Copoc is fairly outgoing and friendly, although he’s hard to understand sometimes, what with the hissing and such.

We found ourselves being tossed around in the same squall that we had been in for a couple of days.  To Malcolm and myself it was no big deal.  We are seasoned sailors.  The Paladin and the Lizard, however, were a different matter.  Copoc seemed to be a darker shade of green than when we started off.  No one was getting much sleep.  At some point, I heard a strange “Thump” come from up on deck.  Having nothing better to do, I poked my head up through the hole.  Malcolm went to the hole towards the stem of the boat and also looked out.  Through the driving rain and pound wind, I didn’t see anything amiss at first.  I saw the Hippogryph that was Theon’s mount chained to the same spot that he had been throughout the trip.  

Malcolm shouted, “Hey!  There’s some grappling hooks stuck to the side of the boat!  We’re being boarded!”  

I looked to where he was pointing, and then I saw them.  Sure enough, some Rolgulkan Orcs were crawling over the side of the boat.  The other passengers were springing into action.  Theon bounded past Malcolm up to the deck and struck out at the first Orc he came to.  He dealt it a mighty blow.  Copoc and Malcolm also came up to the deck and started in on the Orcs.  I came up on the deck and looked over the side.  Unfortunately, what I saw was not too comforting.  A jumbled up raft, made of anything the orcs could throw together, was stuck fast to our ship via the grapping hooks.  Their raft was held afloat by anything they could use, including rotting corpses.  The fact that they managed to navigate such a vessal in this storm was truly astonishing.  The most disturbing thing on the raft, however, was the demonesque looking ogre who appeared to be leading the pirates.  He was big, winged, and looked real mean.  He was shouting to the orcs in Rolgulkan that they had better kill us all, or he would have their skins…literally.

Thinking that discretion would be the better part of valor, and then realizing that I never actually listened to myself when I had that thought, I let loose with a mighty Lightning Bolt at the Ogre and three of his orc minions.  The orcs were toasted, but to my chagrin I saw that the Ogre seemed to take no damage at all.  He did take notice of me, however, and flew up towards me.  He pulled out this big-assed war ax kind of thing and struck me with it.  It hurt like hell, and I thought I was done for.  Blood was spouting out of my wound far too freely. 

The others dispatched with the remaining orcs pretty easily, but the Ogre was a different matter.  Theon freed his Hippogryph and sprung onto it’s back.  He rode it up towards the flying Ogre and engaged him.  Unfortunately, the results of this were that Theon was flung into the foamy sea.  Malcolm and Copoc did their best, but to not much effect.  Being near unto death, I dove back down the hatch to try to recover.  Unfortunately, the Ogre cast a darkness spell on the lone remaining Orc and threw him down the hatch with me.  I was in utter darkness!  I could hear the fight continue up on deck.

The ogre flew down the other hatch and slaughtered one of the ships hands.  The other passengers followed him down, and continued to hack away at him.  Finally, Malcolm delivered a killing blow on the creature.  As soon as he died, he lost his demonic trappings and returned to being a normal Ogre, Malcolm made sure he was dead.  After a while, the darkness stopped, and the remaining orc, named Boris, was our prisoner.  Solveig was most angry, especially when we found that the pirates had already killed all but one of her crew, including her two nephews, before we knew that they were boarding us.  Boris was spared instant death only because Solveig would need his help in sailing the Gunnlod back to port.  Solveig gave him the choice of dying instantly now, or facing the judgment of her people later.  Not being a complete dolt, Boris chose to remain in servitude.

We all noticed that Boris seemed to be underfed, and not too steady on his feet.  We questioned him on what he and his shipmates were about in attacking us.  He told us that the ship that he was from had been wrecked on an island not too far from here.  He said that a letter that the Ogre, who was named Marsuz, might explain more.  We retrieved the scroll case that the letter was in.  I detected magic on it, and Theon detected that it was evil.  After some discussion, we decided to go ahead and have the orc open it.  A vial, containing a potion known as Demon’s Breath fell out.  This is what was radiating the evil magic.  Boris told us that this type of potion was what turned Marsuz into the demonic being he was.  Theon took hold of the vial, and after ignoring some discussion of how valuable it was, tossed the vial overboard.  

I then read the enclosed letter:


To the Most Terrible Lady Abashag,

Unless you want your cargo delivered in the bellies of my crew, you need to send us some help. We are trapped on Wodlaw’s Isle by an ljosalfar ghost. It scuttled the Merkansk in the shallow bay of the isle and slays any who approach the hulk. I cannot repair my ship or send a large enough force against the ghost to kill it. Wodlaw is sticking by the letter of our agreement and will not lend a hand to our cause, although he is beginning to eye us greedily – he has already gorged himself on the food we brought him.

This began a fortnight ago we attempted to board the same small craft to collect a tribute to the Three Mothers. When its ljosalfar crew resisted, I had my men fire poisoned arrows at the crew. While the arrows found their mark, the craft still eluded me and we were unable to board her. The next night we stopped at one of the larder isles, but as some others and I were ashore to gather water, the little craft, now piloted by the crew’s ghosts, attacked. The ghost on board shot a cone of ice at the bows of our ship and it rent a hole below the waterline. Still Marsuz threw a great stone into the attacking boat and it sunk. The next night it was back from the grave again though, driving my crew from our repairs!

Now we out of supplies are down to eating the goblins, but I am afraid that the desperate situation means that I may be forced to harm the slaves you asked me to deliver to the Porphyry House in Kostelna.

Your priestess Firtha’s magic is not great enough to oppose it. She agreed with me that our only hope to complete delivery to the Porphyry House would be to contact you and trust to your overwhelming might. I dispatched three sets of my crew in hopes that some could make it to you and you could bring aid sufficient enough to stop the ghost. I offer the bearers of this message in sacrifice to you as partial payment for your attention. (Although I humbly ask that you might spare the ogre Marsuz, as he is a great asset to our efforts.)

Hail the three mothers,

Miklos

Captain of the Merkansk


Boris enlightened us on some of the questions we had.   Wodlaw is a giant who lives on this island.  He will usually deal with any travelers by taking tribute in order to get some of his fresh water.  The tribute usually includes food, or a couple of crewmembers for food, or both.  The slaves the Rolgulkans were carrying were bought from a human dealer, which raised some questions amongst us.  Kostelna, where the ship was headed, is a rogulkan city, where many human infidels go to hide.  It is supposedly a city with no rules, where anything is available for a price.  Abashag, who the letter was addressed to, was apparently a daughter of one of the Three Mothers, who are hags who control a great deal of ships.  This Abashag is apparently a powerful being, perhaps a sea hag of some type, who the Rolgulkans believe has power enough to destroy this ghost that is keeping them trapped on the island.

After some discussion, we decided to head for the island.  Theon was all for rescuing the slaves.  I thought there might be something else of value that we could acquire.  After some hesitation, Malcolm agreed to the effort.  Theon flew up and scouted for the island, and Solveig followed as best she could.  Luckily the storm abetted so that we could travel.  When we arrived at Wodlaw’s island, Copoc, who is a Shaman, attempted to speak to the spirit of the island.  After hissing out some mumbo jumbo, he informed us that he was unable to make contact with it.  Theon found the most secluded spot and we disembarked there.  The four of us headed up a hill.  Malcolm, who was scouting ahead, spotted two sleeping orcs, with another standing guard.  He also saw, further beyond the orcs, a Dire wolf guarding a cave entrance.  We assumed that this is where Wodlaw the giant resides.  The orcs were far enough away from the Dire wolf that we thought we could kill them with out notice.  This we quickly did.  Copoc then tried to speak with the spirit of the cave.  After more reptilian mumbo jumbo, he informed us that once again he was unable to make contact with the spirit.  The rest of us looked at him and started to have some questions as to his competence as a lizard of the spirits.  He assured us he was able to talk to them, but that perhaps our presence was disrupting his abilities.  

We headed down a trail away from the wolf, to try and find the camp of the orcs.  We heard an alarm sound ahead of us, and realized that we had been spotted.  The orcs were coming our way.  I used my Alter Self spell to turn myself into an orc, and ran back towards the cave entrance.  With Malcolm hidden behind me, I berated the Dire Wolf, and we both fired arrows at it.  Copoc and Theon hid behind us.  The plan was to get the wolf and possibly the giant to attack the Orcs who were coming up the trail.  The Wolf howled in pain and charged me…


End Adventure 1


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## Ancalagon (Oct 30, 2002)

aaaah, sweet sweet celtic intrigue, got to love it.

so you have a paladin, a sailor, a shaman and a sorcerer?  Interesting mix   I see the paladin was smart enough not to wear metal armor when he was thrown in the sea.


Ancalagon


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## CleverName (Oct 30, 2002)

Ancalagon said:
			
		

> *aaaah, sweet sweet celtic intrigue, got to love it.
> 
> so you have a paladin, a sailor, a shaman and a sorcerer?  Interesting mix   I see the paladin was smart enough not to wear metal armor when he was thrown in the sea.
> 
> Ancalagon *




Yes: paladin, fighter/rogue, shaman and sorcerer. 

We're hoping our fifth player, Steve, will be able to bring his dwarf fighter into the game next month. 

Yeah, after I went over the drowning rules, everyone bought light armor or decided to wear no armor on board ship. Funny that. The paladin bought two suits of armor, just in case. 

Actually, Makar missed the Paladin's dunking. The ogre bull rushed the paladin and knocked him off his mount. He saved himself by plunging his pick into the side of the ship and hanging on until his hippogriff could pluck him out of the sea.


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## CleverName (Oct 31, 2002)

*Round-Robin Storytelling*

The players and I decided to try a new tactic in regards to the story hour. They are each going to take turns spinning a yarn for you. While this may lack some continuity, this should allow you to really get to know all the characters (and not lay too heavy a burden on one player). 

Adventure 2 will be narrated by Malcom of the Vacomagi (Remi Truer).  I'm dying to tell you some of the details, but I want to conserve the ammo for Remi. So, I won't explain: giant, blood, treachery, criticals, dice, fireballs, dire wolf, orcs, even more treachery, loot, goblin jerky, whup-ass, exploding skeletons, sacrifces to the Three Mothers, clandestine conversations, backstabbing lightning, and more magic missles than you can shake a stick at...


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## CleverName (Nov 5, 2002)

*Adventure 02*

A Bad Day For Me isn’t a Bad Day For You_
Malcom of the Vacomagi _ (Remi Truer)

My luck started going sour when I got caught off-guard by that Rogulkan Patrol and received an arrow in my ass for it. True, I then used that arrow to draw out the dire wolf guarding Wodlaw's Cave and set up a bunch of innocent orcs as patsies, but that's all in a day’s work.

So I'm in a tree, and Makar is doing his best impersonation of one of the Rogulkan's we killed, and we think this dire wolf's gonna’ come after us when Wodlaw himself strides out of the cave. I acted like just another branch, and it seemed like the giant has missed me. Makar darted back into the forest and caught sight of the Rogulkan party that was chasing us. Copoc and Theon were hidden in the underbrush, our surprise back-up. Wodlaw pulled the arrow out of the Direwolf, examined it, and a look of fury crossed his face. Our ruse had worked, now all we had to do was survive.

 I decided to try and follow Makar from the canopy and took out my trusty grappling hook. I tossed it toward a promising looking branch. The hook went sailing past the branch, bounced off the trunk of another tree, and clanged to the ground. I noticed two things in quick order, the first being the dire wolf charging toward Makar, who was waving frantically at the Rogulkans and crying out to them in the scratchy, coughing Rogulkan language. The other is that Wodlaw was looking at me, with a rock in his hand! Needless to say, that rock quickly left his hand and almost knocked me out of the tree, perhaps being at his eye level was not the best idea I had ever had.

So I climbed down the tree, ribs aching, and heard a happy chorus of orcish bows being drawn and released in almost-perfect unison, with the dire wolf crying out in pain soon afterwards as a coda.  A crack of thunder, and some Rogulkan cheers soon followed it. And Wodlaw entered the forest. He gazed at me as he strode past and snorted at me in Rogulkan. I may not know Rogulkan, but I know what he said, "Wait here, I'll be back when I'm done with these guys."

I ran after Wodlaw, towards Theon and Copoc, hoping to keep an eye on the battle. Another volley of Rogulkan arrows and the dire wolf was yapping back towards the Giant's Cave. Wodlaw lumbered forward, bellowing his displeasure. The bellow was cut short by an explosion of fire that engulfed Wodlaw, presumably from the hobgoblin, who appeared out of thin air. When the smoke cleared and revealed Wodlaw still standing, Makar, still in Orcish guise, let another lightning bolt go (Oh, how I would grow to hate that spell). Wodlaw was not his wolf, however, and shrugged off the might of our sorceror. The orcs with axes and spears seemed uncomfortable charging the Giant, and held their ground, and I saw one eyeing Makar suspiciously. The archers loosed their arrows again, to little avail, as they bounced off Wodlaw's tough hide.

I notched an arrow and let it fly against him, but, much to my surprise, it sailed past his head, just enough to get his attention. Theon followed my lead and fired, but his aim was true, and a crossbow bolt buried itself deep in the Giant's skin. He seemed suitably unhappy with this turn of events, and came howling toward us. His greatclub smashed through the air, but not Theon's helmet. We stood our ground. Wodlaw winced in pain as a volley of Magic Missiles burst against his back. Behind Wodlaw, the Hobgoblin grinned.

I believe this is when things went sour for Makar, as he took this chance to attack the Hobgoblin. Again, a stinging blast to the back, the Hobgoblin steadied himself, wincing in pain, but still focused on the Giant. Theon and I each took this chance to attack Wodlaw, I with my axe, he with his spear. My swing was wild, and hit nothing but a clump of brush that was around our feet. Theon, once again proving his worth, gave Wodlaw a terrible wound. Still bellowing, Wodlaw smashed his club into me, driving the breath from my lungs, and bringing me almost to my knees. He dealt a similar crushing blow to Theon. Copoc took this chance to mumble something under his breath, repeating 'Talik Kaax' interspersed with hissing and rumbles. For the first time, his terrible spirit powers activated, and the Rogulkans, almost to a man, were wrapped in thick, grasping vines. The Hobgoblin, still free, took this chance to bury an arrow deep in the back of Wodlaw's head, bringing him crashing down.  

I ran toward the Hobgoblin, greataxe ready. Out of the blue, he asked to know whether I had a ship. I replied, that we did not, and that we had arrived here as a result of a teleportation spell gone horribly wrong.  Again the Gods abandoned me! The hobgoblin snorted disdainfully, "Do not lie to me!" He gestured and loosed a terrible blast that sent me hurtling back through the trees, and behind the Giant's body, where I lay for the remainder of the battle, hoping to go unnoticed until I had a chance to heal.

I heard Theon and the Hobgoblin chatting. Theon admitted that we had a boat, and the Hobgoblin (introducing himself as Brone) said that he would help us if we would promise him a ride off the island on it. One of the Rogulkans did not like the sound of this and began to run, Brone took him down with a single arrow. Copoc killed the last Orc standing with a javelin, and then he and Makar finished off the remaining orcs still trapped in the vines.

Meanwhile, Theon had agreed to allow Brone to join our party, and the plunder of Wodlaw's lair. Copoc seemed upset at this, especially after Brone hissed something at him. Copoc got a little glassy eyed for a moment, and then replied. Brone's face fell at the reply, and he waved his hand in annoyance. I may be misreading this encounter, there's still so much that I don't understand about Copoc and his mysterious ways. I offered to let Brone take over for Boris as the replacement sailor, but he seemed more intent on simply leaving the island.

The less said about the attempt to kill the dire wolf, the better. Needless to say, I missed. Once the wolf was felled, we entered the cave and divvied up Wodlaw's impressive treasure stash, which consisted of:
 · A non-magical platter, ring, obsidian satyr, miniature Cimbri war chariot
 · 2900 GP
 · 3 Potions (enlarge [5th level], levitate, spider climb)
 · 1 Scroll (filter)
 · 1 jar full of an indigo, fizzy oil with a fruity smell (Oil of Slipperiness) 
 · A metal disk with the Cimbri word for 'quiet' on one side and an icon that looked like a door on the other.

When the word 'quiet' was said, the disk would fly forward and then drop. We finally said the word while pressing the 'door' symbol up against a chest. The chest, which had previously been squeaking furiously, now made no sound. A useful object, especially for me, whose done more than his fair share of running away from guards alerted by a squeaky door.

We finished investigating Wodlaw's lair, and decided to check out the Orc's encampment and plan our strike. Brone informed us that the leader of the Orcs was named Miklos, and he had a Priestess with him named Fertha, whose dark powers scared even Brone. Brone went on to quickly sketch out what the defenses of the encampment were. It was never in contention that we would attempt to wipe out the Rogulkan's, but when we saw their outpost, we had to decide whether to take them immediately (with our spell caster's depleted) or at dawn. We had very little time to decide, as it was less than an hour to sunset. I was for going against them immediately, as it seemed that every hour we waited was an hour Abbashag might appear in, but the rest of the party seemed pretty happy to wait for Brone and Makar to recharge before attempting to storm the Rogulkan's camp.

Before I go on let me describe the camp. It was a loose spiral of wooden wall, it looked sort of like a nautilus shell from above. The human slaves were in a cage in the center, archers were on three raised platforms so they could look above the simple wooden wall, and Miklos .  It was on a sandy beach, but still close to the forest. In the water near the camp, eight or nine Rogulkans were staked down in the shallow water. Crabs and gulls pecked at their corpses. 

As our argument over the plan came to an end, Fertha went down to the corpses in the water and began chanting. The bones of the corpses rose out of their earthly shells and shambled into a loose circle around the camp. Theon grinned, I think it had been a while since he faced a shambling group of undead. So we decided to bed down, and wait until morning, when the Orcs would be half-blind and our magicians would be full-power.

It would have gone off great, but I was woken up near dawn by a frantic and shaken Makar. Apparently Abbashag had made a guest appearance on our boat. A few minutes after Theon and Makar had woken, Copoc came out of a light trance, and Theon's Gryphon flew out of the sky, holding Makar's black cat familiar in its jaws and with the Solvieg, the captain of our boat, on its back. The cat had apparently been zapped by the Sea Hag. Nasty business. I've heard tales of Sea Hags, but never met one. Now she had out boat, and was coming toward the island, pulling it. We had to act fast. I quaffed a potion of Bull's Strength, and felt my muscles grow and strengthen underneath my mithril shirt.

Brone turned me and Copoc invisible, and we snuck inside the wall. I was waiting for the Priestess to come out, Copoc for Miklos. A fireball blast to the Wall near the Priestess's tent took out six or seven Rogulkan's, and I plunged into melee with the Priestess -- burying my axe deep in her chest. She mumbled some words, and her skin healed. Theon flew in on the back of his gryphon, and I could hear Makar and Brone taking on the remaining skeletons. A few sharp blows and Fertha went down. Miklos barreled down on us, and I readied my axe. That's when the air began to tingle around me. I looked over my shoulder and saw Makar moving his hands wildly, two orcs attacking him. A flash and a boom later, and most of the skin on my left side was singed and burned, Miklos then smashed me in the head with his sword, and I went down.

When I awoke, Copoc was standing over me, and the orcs were all dead. We stripped off their armor, and tried to decide what to do next.


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## Monkey Man (Nov 19, 2002)

*Adventure 3*

ADVENTURE 3:  Spirits, Dragons, and Giant Hearts

By Copoc Kitzam

	In the aftermath of the battle we were all weakened.  Our bodies were battered and our various magical talents depleted.  I called upon the great spirit Nak Te Kan who proved most cooperative and generous in dispensing his healing powers.  We collected ten human slave women whose ages ranged from their mid-teens to early thirties.  Most of them had tattoos or multiple body rings denoting there status as slaves.  They seemed strangely drawn to Theon.  Perhaps it was because he wielded a shield depicting the ever-popular devices of Logos.  It is a mighty shield indeed, though to the best of my knowledge Theon has never bothered to awaken its spirit.  Maybe if I show him how this can be accomplished he will enlighten me on why so many are enthralled by a god they can never see.  Anyway, I digress.

	The apparent leader of the slaves, named Katella, was unmarked by tattoos and such.  She claimed that her brother had sold her into slavery.  My companions and I debated what to do next.  The debate went on until I began to fear that Abashag would be upon us before we could move.  Solveig took the slaves to Wodlaw’s cave while we continued debating.  Finally we decided to hide inland.  Malcolm would stay close enough to watch the shore and see if Abashag approached the ghostly longship, while the rest of us waited back up at the giant’s cave preparing an ambush.

	Soon a shaken Malcolm emerged from the underbrush, pale and emaciated.  He babbled that Abashag had arrived and that the sight of her had put the whammy on him.  She was angered by the burning orcs and was wielding a living chain weapon, and wearing a bandolier of potions.  Apparently, the great ghost ship appeared in the sky and had dropped down to crush Abashag as well as the front of Solveig’s boat.  Abashag had then surfaced, blasting an eye ray of sorts at some dead body on board.  The ship quickly retaliated, hammering Abashag with a Cone of Cold.  Finally, Abashag pummeled the longship until it sank.

	Makar and Malcolm immediately moved to hide.  I waited patiently in the cave’s entrance with Theon and Brone.  Silently I blandished Yax Che Mal, the Fury of my great club.  Soon I noticed that Theon had a strange look on his face.  I strained to hear, but to no avail.  Suddenly Theon fired a bolt from his crossbow.  A cry of pain erupted from thin air and Theon urged us to attack the floating bolt.  I charged and swung my club.  Yax Che Mal made his presence felt and it was a resounding blow.  Brone threw his sword in the general direction of our unseen foe and then turned, apparently to run.  Theon attacked the beast and it retaliated, revealing itself.  The  hideous visage of the sea hag caused Brone to collapse, convulsing.  Makar and Malcolm attacked from a distance.  Abashag attacked Theon twice and then stabbed me with its living chain/spear thing.  Wracked with pain and knowing I would be unable to withstand another such wound, I called upon Xit Balbac to grease this dread weapon and cause Abashag to lose her grip.  The attempt failed miserably.  Abashag then moved to Theon and impaled him like a fish as Malcolm rushed in.  Theon bore the grievous wound in a manly, albeit bloody manner. Babbling something that we couldn’t make out due to the blood bubbling up in his throat, Theon grabbed the shaft of the spear, keeping Abashag from withdrawing it from his dying body for a second.  With that split second given, Yax Che Mal allowed me to connect with another furious blow, and the sea hag toppled…but too late for Theon.  Makar then blasted Abashag’s corpse, just for good measure.  Abashag had three potions on her bandolier, two of Cure Critical Wounds, and one of Alter Self, which we quickly grabbed.  Makar and Brone had both been weakened from looking at the sea hag, and were in bad shape.

	We were all painfully aware that Solveig’s ship was sinking.  Makar cast a spell of Water breathing on Malcolm and I, and we dove in to retrieve food and Solveig’s lock box from the doomed vessel.  While diving we spotted the ghost ship.  Incredibly it appeared undamaged after its scuffle with Abashag.  Malcolm and I surfaced to confer with Makar, Solveig, and Brone.  The ship appeared to be a Rolgulkan knockoff of an Alfar longship, with a dragon headed prow.  Makar believed it to be the “White Dragon,” a legendary vessel captained by a seafaring rogue named Isolf.  Isolf, along with his band of fellows could reputedly slip in and out of any port unseen.  I determined to try and contact the ghost ship, but I needed more information.  I slipped into a trance and contacted Kamul Yat Balam.  Vaguely he answered me that indeed the ship was sentient.  I dove back to the sea floor and tried twice unsuccessfully to contact White Dragon.  I began to wonder if we were dealing with some sort of ghostly antics instead of a spirit proper.  Cautiously I reached out and touched the boat, showing immense respect, and asking in Draconic if we could be of service to the great vessel.  White Dragon began to rise!!!  I followed it to the surface and climbed onboard, summoning my fellow castaways to join me.

	Bolstered by my unexplained success, I attempted a third trance, and this time was rewarded with a vision.  I saw White Dragon wavering in the heavens.  It seemed to shift shapes briefly, but I was unable to discern the exact nature of the transformation.  Soon it refocused and I could make out a middle-aged Alfar on deck conversing with his crew.  “We have to travel to Wodlaw’s isle,” he said, “And make an offering of Wodlaw’s heart to break the first part of the curse on White Dragon…” The vision faded.  Malcolm quickly offered to retrieve the giant’s heart, and ran off.  He returned a little later with the black and putrid organ, and handed it to me.  It must have weighed 30 pounds.  I knelt and proffered the foul meat to White Dragon.  The Dragonhead shaped prow promptly animated and gulped it down.  The ship spoke!  White Dragon gave thanks and explained that his friends had tried to break the curse before they were slaughtered by the hobgoblins.  Disappointingly, she refused to elaborate on this curse, claiming to have waited eight years before telling her last owners about it.  Quick introductions were made, and White Dragon learned that we polished off Abashag.  She agreed to take us wherever we wished to travel.

	Soon we found ourselves pondering the fate of the slaves.  Brone ingeniously suggested that we use Theon’s share of the loot to set them up and asked Katella where they might wish to go.  Katella agreed that Theon’s money could possibly buy their freedom and asked to be delivered to Jormunsteinn.  Malcolm knew a contact in Jormunsteinn, a free lance Cimbri skilled in Tattoo magic, who could possibly help them out by removing their tattoos.  We then voted to give Solveig a portion of the loot as partial compensation for the loss of her boat.  Eventually we returned to the cave to pay our respects to Theon.  I was very intrigued by the strange rituals that followed.  I remember when my father died we fed him to the muck dwellers and there was much rejoicing among the swamp spirits.  I wondered which spirits would profit from Theon’s demise.  Katella asked that she be allowed to take his shield.  Makar swapped boots with Theon, while Malcolm retrieved his gauntlets.  Solveig took his massive plate mail.  Makar spoke a few words after they had finished looting his body, and we proceeded to bury him.  Although Logos never deigned to show himself, the earth spirit Teiragon seemed well sated, as did Annelik Mox Balas, animus of the worm.  

	After this bit of strangeness I called upon Nak Te Kan for some lesser restoration on Makar and Brone, and we returned to the White Dragon.  Upon the ship asking us where we would like to travel, we informed her of our intentions to take the slaves to Jormunsteinn.  We told her that we would like to stay on for future adventures.  Brone mentioned that he required passage to Kostelna for sensitive business.  White Dragon proceeded to inquire whom he worked for.  Brone claimed to “Serve the best interests of the non-depraved races… that he was being sent to investigate Porphyry House in Kostelna.”  At this point my curiosity and perhaps mistrust of Brone once again surfaced and I asked who he suspected me of serving when we first met.  Brone didn’t seem to want to answer.  He did reveal that he believed the slaves were to be sacrificed to the Yuan-ti, a reptilian race that could possibly be in league with the Three Mothers.  He also hinted at a diabolical and sinister race of Kulkans that live only to serve the Yuan-ti.  Could these be the black Kulkans my tribe has warred with for years, never able to ascertain the source of their dark and loathsome powers?  I must consult soon with Kanul Yat Balam.  Once again I digress.

	When pressed, Brone somewhat explained his suspicions, alleging that the Yuan-ti have been over-paying for slaves with Demon’s Breath manufactured right there in Porphyry House.  I for one am willing to join this “Investigation” if for no other reason than to determine the origin of these diabolical Kulkans.  Makar says that he will help too, as long as the venture is profitable and Brone doesn’t prove to be full of horned mammal defecation.  Malcolm is agreeable as well.  I asked White Dragon if she believed Brone’s story.  “Maybe, but I can tell you that he is no hobgoblin.” Replied the Spirit/Dragon/Ghost/Vessel.  Reluctantly, Brone revealed himself to be human, although he looked different than other humans I have seen.  His complexion was much darker than the humans I am familiar with.  White Dragon asked for help from us to set her sails.  Makar and Malcolm jumped up to assist Solveig in the needed tasks.  I started making preparations to summon a new spirit ally.  What will tomorrow bring, I wondered, as once more we pushed forth into the deep blue yonder…


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## CleverName (Nov 22, 2002)

*Shameless Plug*

For those of you who have enjoyed my machinations as a GM, my first ebook is out: Patrons of Adventure. Please give it a look. 

It has tons of adventure ideas based around 10 NPCs. 

*Thanks!*


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## Ancalagon (Nov 22, 2002)

great story!  Too bad one of the PCs bit the dust so early, but it was a noble sacrifice.

I will check the e-book soon!

Ancalagon


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## CleverName (Nov 25, 2002)

Thanks, Ancalagon. There is a free, 9-page preview of Patrons of Adventure available now.


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## CleverName (Dec 9, 2002)

*Gann MacManus*

Here's the background info on Keith's new  PC,Gann MacManus, a hobgoblin fighter. 


Gann MacManus was born and grew up in Howth on Tir Nan Og, the son of simple fisherfolk. Even as a lad, he was remarkable both for his imposing figure as well as his inquisitive nature. More than once, his curiosity outstripped his judgment, and Gann spent much of his youth in trouble of one sort or another. His plainspoken manner (some would say tactlessness) did little to endear him to those he found himself in trouble with, and Gann eventually found himself in need of a hasty departure from the island and culture of his folk.

He managed to secure a working passage on the far-flung Rolgulkan tradeship "Lost Daughter" and made his way, port by port, to Jormunsteinn in the Skia Thalassa. Though he was by this time an able sailor, he worked for a while as a bouncer, then an enforcer for a local criminal concern, before going to sea again. He has visited every port on the Skia Thalassa, many more than once. 

Before his current but unsteady employment in Jormunsteinn, a Rolgulkan named Arnuz hired him as a bouncer in her brothel in Kostelna. About three years ago a human woman opened up Porphyry House, a fancy brothel in the city, with beautiful and exceedingly depraved employees. Within a year Arnuz had to close up shop – and Gann was out on his warty, but well-muscled ass. 

Lately he has been supplementing his meager income by working as a bodyguard and heavy for a reputable Dwarven merchant, Oiin, who makes frequent trips to Kostelna on the edge of Rolgulka. In that rough burg, one can never overestimate the usefulness of a 6 foot, 5 inch ass-ugly hobgoblin tough.

Gann is not a deft conversationalist or charmer, but his is freakishly strong and huge, even for a hobgoblin. Despite this, he is a canny fighter, as liable to outmaneuver or outwit an opponent, as he is to merely demolish them with sword and knife. When he was still a babe in arms, his father predicted that the giant babe would one day be a mighty warrior as of old, and that with the spear-feat and the feat of the shield rim he would inspire many warriors to his cause. A druid that overheard this said instead that Gann would never wear a shield or own a horse, and to this day he has managed to keep these bans.


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## CleverName (Dec 9, 2002)

*Adventure 4*

An all-expense paid trip to a hive of scum and villany...
_Gann’s story, as told to his erstwhile employer, Oinn, the dwarf..._

So, I went to the Pheasant, like you suggested, and met with those outlanders that were looking for an able-bodied deckhand. Pretty odd group, a human wizard, a weird looking Hob, and half-elf and one of those lizard men, Kulkans or whatever they are called. They were hiding something, I guessed pretty quick, but I didn’t know what. Have to say, that cimbri runt, Malcom or whatever his name is, he sure has a mouth on him. But more about that later.

Yeah, they needed a sailor. Looking to hire a sword, as well. Figured I’d be a good enough fit, seein’ as how I can do both jobs. They were sort of evasive at first about what they were up to, until I made plain I already knew they wanted to go to Kostelna. I could tell right off none of them knew anything about the place, so I filled ‘em in. I told ‘em all about the old ruler, Borysko, how he was overthrown by the “Holy” Triad and put on public display. I told ‘em all about the city guard and their idea of what law enforcement meant, even mentioned that for a measly 100 gold they’d arrange to crucify someone for you. They seemed to get the idea that Kostelna was a sort of rough place, if you can imagine, heh heh. ‘Course later on when we got jumped in the street, they knew it for a fact, but that turned out all right, too.

They seemed interested in the Triad’s ban on worship services, and just like everyone else; they jumped right to the conclusion that the Holy Triad in Kostelna and the Three Mothers are one and the same. Maybe they are, I’m not all that interested in finding out, you know? But anyway, I eventually got through to them that Kostelna isn’t really all that great a place – the Rolgulkans don’t even claim it, for Loki’s sake – but they still wanted to go.

What’s that? Their ship? Uhh, yeah. About that, you were right, it’s, uh, it’s sort of unusual. Look, I can’t really say. I know I told you I’d find out all about it, but I pretty much swore an oath to keep it to myself. Yeah, sure, I know, it’s not like it would be the first promise I’ve broken, but this is – different. I can’t explain, at least not yet. Just trust me, boss, on this one.

So anyway, I signed on for a share o’ the take, if any. Not sure why I didn’t hold out for some hard coin, I guess they just seemed like the sort of folk that would make out alright in Kostelna. Sort of ruthless, you know? They had some caper in mind, I’d no doubt of that. Something to do with the Porphyry house – I thought when they hired me they meant to rob the place – risky, but we both know how much gold that place rakes in, so I figured it would be worth it. If I’d known then what I know now, I might not have been so eager, but anyway.

We shipped out the next tide. Made pretty good time, too – the human and that loudmouthed Cimbri weren’t bad hands, really, and that Dekkalfar woman they had on board was an old sea dog, or I’m the Kraken. I helped ‘em pick a path in through the harbor and we docked down at the end of the wharf nearest the Shunt. Took ‘em there first, got rooms, made sure they knew the rules. Old Lars asked about you, by the way.

Went on something of a walking tour after that, showed ‘em the Porphyry House, of course, but also the Bone Tower and the Skindancer Academy. What’s that? No, didn’t get to see the Bone Tower repairing itself, but I warned ‘em not to stray too near, unless they wanted to become part of the second floor or something. I tried to convince them it would be worth hanging around the skindancer area long enough to see if we might catch one of those crazy performance-torture things they do, but they didn’t seem to like the idea all that much. I just thought it would help them get a better idea of what Kostelna can be, you know? 

Huh? Well, hell’s bells, of course I took them to the Ogre. How could I let them miss that? We went by the place later on, after the little fracas we got into by Kedward’s. They weren’t too wild about that scene, and I have to say, it’s gotten even more depraved than before, if you can imagine. I guess seeing him sliced open night after night wasn’t vile enough - now they’re trimming little pieces off Borysko and eating them raw.

But before that, we went by Kedward’s tower. This group, they knew about Demon’s Breath already, you know? So I thought maybe they might want a word with the man who controls everything else in the drug trade. That’s where Durzen and his goons jumped us. That little lick, he’s such a coward, brought damn near a score of his thugs along. That human sorcerer, though, he fried about half of ‘em right off, and after I tore a piece off Durzen he turned tail and ran. The kulkan priest or shaman or whatever he is, he’d glued a few of the other lads to the ground, so they couldn’t run themselves. We let ‘em go free, sent ‘em after (orc bandit leader), heh, they were none too happy about Durzan leaving them there to get killed.

As it turned out, old Kedward saw the whole thing from his tower. The human sorcerer fellow, he seemed to want a word with Kedward, so we went over. That’s when the Cimbri shot his mouth off about Matylda, Kedward’s familiar, being some sort of freak. I’d, uh, guess I’d neglected to mention to them about Kedward and Matylda making the beast with two backs. You can imagine how he reacted —  I thought the old man was gonna’ turn Malcom into a goat, or a corpse, or something right then and there. He did hit him with some sort of magic, not sure what it was, and I thought that idiot Cimbri was gonna’ get us all killed, but then he backed down real fast and apologized. 

Anyway, Kedward seemed real keen on finding out what was going on in the Porphyry house, which worked out well enough since that’s what we were there to do as well. He didn’t really offer any help, though, just promises of rewards if we could tell him anything. 

We went by the House last of all. Went inside those purple walls, got a good look at the guards and the set up – as far as the main lobby, anyway. That place is built like a fortress. The human and the Cimbri, they hired some of the girls for a few hours, I went outside to case the joint a little bit better and see if we could maybe climb the walls from outside. They met up with me afterwards, and we thought up a plan on how to have the run of the place…


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## blargney (Dec 26, 2002)

*Good stuff!*

I've been off the boards for a long while, but I'm really happy to see that this story's coming along!  I can't wait to read some more!

Have you got any character sheets posted for these guys? 

-blarg


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## CleverName (Jan 7, 2003)

*Thanks Blargney*

Not yet, but I will put them up soon on the main Palaestra site. I'll post it when they are up.


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## CleverName (Jan 7, 2003)

*Adventure 5*

The Cloaca* Monologues
_An unsent letter to Malcolm the Cimbri's Half Brother Mallory_ (Remi Truer)

Mallory,

Remember that big purple whorehouse I told you we were trying to sneak into? Well, our group infiltrated it not once, not twice, but three times in the past day. First we wanted to send in a slightly more expendable guy to do some snooping and check if they any special magic detection set up. We didn't really know where to start, so we went back to that creep Kedward's place to see if he knew a junky or someone we could use. The little imp of his did another little nudie dance, but I swallowed my creep's and acted polite and what.

Kedward gave us the skinny on some poor addict named Forsetti, gave us a bag of whatever the poor schlub was hooked on, and sent us on our way. Nice and easy. Guy's way too nice to us, though, claims he just doesn't want his business taken over like the Porphyry House moved in on whoring. I don't really wanna’ hang around him if we do manage to bring the House down.

Anyway, Brone scraped Forsetti off the floor of the Ogre, put an invisibility spell on him, and sent him on his way. An hour later we met the puke in the Plaza of Hanging Ruins and got the general layout of the place, and a couple clues of where to look, some passages downstairs, a couple rooms upstairs, and Wolvera's (the proprietress of Porphyry) office. He also said the statues seemed to act as guards, and looked around when he entered a room, but could not see him. We gave him his bag of treats, and he ran off. Hope we never see that waste again.

We had to plan our next move, and it came down to me and Gann doing another search of the place, filling in the blanks of Forsetti's little description. I was a little worried, my luck hasn't been the best lately, and I might not have been a lot of good in a fight, but I just put on the game face, talked a little louder, and we were off.

We checked out the bottom level first, searching the smaller rooms, trying to keep quiet. We didn't see much, had a couple close shaves with the servants and madams almost bumping into us, until we got to the third or fourth door down one of the halls Forsetti hadn't scouted. Two of the male servants we’d seen came down the hall dragging this big guy, he was saying how sorry he was -- already looked like he had been worked over by them. Must have roughed a girl up or something. Anyway, they tie him to an upright bed or post, I couldn't really see that much through the keyhole, and one of the servants turns into a snake! The other one picks up the snake, which then bites the customer, and he just dies. Then the first guy reappears, and they're all laughing. I hadn't completely believed Brone, but there you go, transforming snakes.

So we head upstairs to look around, a little freaked out. Gann took the 'detect secret doors' potion, and we found one that lead behind the swank upstairs room, complete with hidden doors into each of the rooms! We also found a door that looked like it went down. I just managed to pick the lock, but our invisibility spell was almost over and we decided to head back out, confident that we had the elements of a plan in front of us. In hopes that it would help me pick the lock again, I poured a little oil of slipperiness into the lock and then closed the door. On the way out I must have tripped or something, because suddenly one of statues started following us down the stairs. Wolvera was down there, too, and said some words. All the plants in the lobby came to life and tried to grab us. We got through the door, I tapped Makar, who was waiting in the lobby, on the shoulder, and we were out.

Obviously, we needed to get into a room upstairs, sneak along the secret passages behind the room, and get back to the secret passage with the lock. Many jokes were made, but we finally settled on a ruse that revolved around watching Copoc… the less said the better. But we needed 2500 gold at a minimum to get a room up there, and our finances were sort of low at the moment. Another visit to Kedward was needed.

Kedward bought our remaining vials of Demon's Breath, giving us the money we needed and some antitoxin as well. We threw our weapons into Makar's magic bag, and set off for a third time to Porphyry House, keeping one or two out, so as not to arouse suspicion. We got into a room with a girl, no problem. Again, the girl ended up looking almost exactly as we described in our “fantasy” to the Madame. She was willing and passive — all of this just made us uneasier as to what was really going on in here. Brone cast Detect Magic on her and said there was a Transformation-type spell on her, but she wasn't a Yuan-Ti. Time was running out thought, so we tied her up, blocked the door into the room, got into the passage, and I managed to get the lock undone, and we were into the secret lair.

There were three chests in the room directly behind the locked secret door, but everyone else wanted to explore before looking into the chests, so we left them. Brone went first down the stairs, and I was behind him, the others followed behind me. At the bottom of the stairs, as Brone came off the staircase, there was a flash of light under his foot, and he was frozen. Almost immediately two lines of acid shot out at the frozen Brone and covered him. Copoc threw a Haste spell on me and we all moved into the room.

I'd like to say that the 5 Green Kulkans and 2 Black Kulkans were worthy adversaries, but we mopped them up with very little trouble. Brone was worse for wear because of the acid blasts the Black Kulkans hit him with, but Copoc healed him up pretty easily. I even got replaced the longspear I had given up at the weapon check required in the lobby of Porphyry house. 

Now that I had a chance to look around, it looked like the room we were in was a holding area of some kind -- there are iron rings set into the walls. There are four doors in the room and two hallways leading out. One corridor heads north and is blocked by a portcullis with a locked wench. The second corridor, the one the Kulkans retreated into, suddenly stops in a dead end after about 25 feet. I can hear some muffled noises coming from beyond the wall…
_________________________________________________

* clo·A·ca: The common cavity into which the intestinal, genital, and urinary tracts open in vertebrates such as fish, reptiles, birds, and some primitive mammals.


GM’s NOTE:
This is a prime example of the danger of combining high school biology and the base humor of gamers. Put lizard folk in the party and mix that with a lot of reptilian baddies and someone has to bring up the physiological differences between mammals and our reptile friends.  You would be surprised how often cloacae can be worked into a conversation, pop culture references, and insults…okay, well, maybe you wouldn’t be surprised…


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## blargney (Jan 7, 2003)

*Re: Adventure 5: The Cloaca* Monologues*

Awesome!  I love reading a good break-in story, are your players professionals by any chance? 



> *One corridor heads north and is blocked by a portcullis with a locked wench.*




You might want to make that "a locked WINCH."  (I actually had to think about it for a second, due to the ever-present wench factor in any given brothel...)

-blarg!


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## CleverName (Jan 7, 2003)

*Re: Re: Adventure 5: The Cloaca* Monologues*

Actually the wench IS chained over the winch, preventing its operation. 

(Some people have NO imagination; you gotta' spell everything out for them...zheesh!)


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## blargney (Jan 7, 2003)

*Re: Re: Re: Adventure 5: The Cloaca* Monologues*



			
				CleverName said:
			
		

> *Actually the wench IS chained over the winch, preventing its operation.*




Hmmm.. is it preventing operation of the winch or the wench?
*wink*

-blargy blarg blarg!

ps - The Classes link on your website goes nowhere particularly useful... I'd love to have a peek at your campaign information if you can fix it up!


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## CleverName (Jan 15, 2003)

*Adventure 6*

Snakes and Winches  _(just for you, blargney...)
Gann goes on with his tail of Kostelan adventure to his former employer Oinn..._ (Keith Martin)

Alright, so we dispatched the kulkans. Nasty business, but the cimbri and I double-teamed ‘em and they went down pretty quick. The doors were all locked, and let’s just say the cimbri couldn’t get elected head of an ogre’s thieves’ guild. We’d have had better luck getting those doors open by bashing his head against ‘em then he did trying to pick the locks.

One hallway looked sort of suspicious, though, and sure enough we found a hidden door in it. The cimbri fella could hear some voices from the other side, so we braced ourselves and he cracked it open real quiet-like – not sure how he does that – and we could see inside. Looked like a prison, more or less – a few cells, some straw tossed around, and on the far side we there was – you’ll think I’m making this up, but I swear to you – there was this, well, it was a Snake Man, essentially. I thought it was a kulkan at first, like Copoc, but then I noticed the legs. Or rather, that he didn’t have any, just this long snaky body below the waist. 

He was talking to this dwarf he had tied to a chair – looked like they’d gone over him pretty well, too. Of course, he was one of your people, you know as well as I do there’s no point trying to beat anything out of a dwarf. I noticed a few of the others, the same servant types Malcom and I saw turn into a snake in our earlier trip inside the place. Standing around them was four of the moving naked statues from the entranceway. Turns out both the human looking goons and the snake are something called Yawn Tee or some such – never heard of ‘em before, but Brone filled us in later. Just then, we had a little work to get done.

Just as we were puttin’ a plan together, the main Yawn Tee, the half snake one, turns and shouts something up above his head. There was a hole or something in the ceiling, someone was up there listening in. He said something about “The others must already be down here” or words to that effect – I got the idea he thought the dwarf was with us. A female voice yelled down some instructions and then the hold sort of closed itself up, not sure how, magic maybe.

Well, even though I knew the dwarf could probably take it, there didn’t seem to be any point to waiting around for the snake-man to work him over any more, and since we had the drop on ‘em, I sort of threw caution to the wind and charged. Let me tell you, those Yawn Tee bastards, they’re tough as hell. That damn half-breed nearly killed me. This crew though, they kept their heads, not a bad bunch in a scrap – good thing too, as it turned out later – and we managed to take down the snake-man and a couple of the others – turns out all of ‘em were Yawn Tee, some of ‘em are just more snakey than others – and even a pair of moving statues as well. That dwarf was as tough as I guessed, he must have been waiting for his chance, because as soon as we came to blows with the snakes he managed to free himself and he jumped right into the fight.

The big fella had a nice looking sword that I nicked, and we scooped up a few other valuable looking items before we decided to get out of there. Good thing we did – one of the less-snakey Yawn Tee escaped during the fight and turned loose one of their pets on us – those dirty bastards had a frikkin’ Hydra down there! We went back out the way we’d come in – that five-headed thing couldn’t fit through the doorway.

Turns out the dwarf was named Urian, some sort of priest, I got the idea, but a pretty good fighter, I’d say. Said something about being on a quest to purge chaos from the earth, or something like that – not my idea of a good time, but you know me, live and let live, to each their own. He’d been trying to find and destroy the source of the demon’s breath for revenge against the Porphyrys House – a friend of his had gotten into some sort of trouble because of it, dead even, maybe. I didn’t pay to much attention to his story, I cared more that we’d picked up another hand in case we ran into another one of those snakemen. He could have been searching for the frikkin’ Holy Chamber Pot Of All The Bearded Dwarves for all I cared – uh, no offense meant, Oinn.

Along with the sword – which was a nice one, good balance, really sharp, too – as keen a blade as I’d ever held, anyway – the snakeman had a few keys. Sure enough, they unlocked the doors in the room where we’d fought the kulkan. One of ‘em turned out to be trapped, but the cimbri managed to deactivate that one the old-fashioned way. After they patched him up, it turned out the room was some sort of sleeping chamber. I suspect it was the snake-man’s digs, and we found some pretty disturbing stuff in there.

Malcom found a stack of papers that looked like orders or instruction to the snake fella. He must have been some sort of priest, but get this – a priest of Demogorgon. Yeah, that Demogorgon – the one your old dwarf grandmother used to tell you scary stories about, the two headed lord of Hell. Turns out these Yawn Tee were worshipping him, and the whole orgy they’d been advertising was part of a big sacrifice. Well, I wasn’t so surprised at that; we’d sort of guessed already. What we didn’t guess was that this sacrifice was supposed to open a gate right to the abyss, straight to Hell – and it would let demon’s breath come pouring out. A lot of demon’s breath. A whole hell of a lot, pardon the pun. 

Anyway, enough of it to cover the whole area - say for a mile or so. You remember that halfling we came across that one time, tried to cut your purse, and I grabbed him up by the ears, then he popped a vial of that stuff and I had to kill him? Remember how I was laid up for a week from the damn bleeding after that crazy little runt almost pulled my liver out when he was on that stuff? Imagine a couple thousand Kostelna residents – not exactly the most peace loving people to begin with – imagine them all whipped up on that crap. It would be complete mayhem. Blood in the streets, murder, chaos – which is what Wolvera, the woman who owns the Porphyrys house -  wanted. She thought this whole thing would turn her into a god, or a major demon, or something.

One other note in there caught our eye – they knew we’d been snooping around. Well, they knew someone had been snooping around, anyway. As soon as the alarm went up, they meant to trap us inside the building and start the damn ritual. I suddenly had a really bad feeling about that hole in the ceiling closing up all weird-like.

The only other way out was through the portcullis or else up the stairs. I had a feeling we might find Wolvera and her sacrifice victims on the other side of those gates, so we decided to see if we could get ‘em both open. Of course my idea was completely wrong, but anyway. The key’s we’d found on the Yawn Tee fit the first winch, sure enough, but the second one, for the second gate, was on the far side. It looked like someone had to already be over there to open it. Of course, the Yawn Tee can turn into snakes, so it’s no problem for them, but what were we supposed to do? I sort of mentioned this out loud, and Brone says “Give me the key” then he turns himself into a rat. All casual like. As if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Now me, personally, I don’t take up with weres normally. But he’d been all right so far, real trustworthy. Still, I had to ask him about it, so I did, I asked him point blank if he was a wererat, and he says no, he was an Acadian Prince. Whatever in the hell that is supposed to mean. He acted like that settled it though, and at any rate the damn gate was up, so we headed down the passage.

I thought my hunch was gonna turn out right, there was slimy fungus and all sorts of pretty loathsome stuff in that tunnel, and it was headed down to something even nastier. We came into this big room, lots of glowing mushrooms and rot everywhere, and there was a man chained to a pillory right in the middle of it. Makar, the wizard, he got sort of skittish about then and decided to magic us up some invisibility. I’m never one to turn down any sort of advantage, so of course I took it. Of course, we couldn’t see each other, either, but I had this feeling it wouldn’t be long before the action started.

Well, we took about three steps into that room when all the sudden the man chained up in the middle catches on fire. On fire, just blazes up like a damn Alfar funeral boat. Then he looks at us, each in turn, right through that damn invisibility. Or he looked right at me, anyways, like I said I couldn’t see the others, but he was looking at someone. Then he gives us the usual bit about how we’ll all be dead soon enough, his mistress won’t be denied, and all that stuff, draws this big flaming sword, and just leaps right across the room to Makar, the wizard, and takes a shot at him. Set him on fire, too, pretty nasty business.

Then we hear howling noises coming from these little tunnels to the sides of the room. I wasn’t too excited to know what the hell else lived down there, but in a moment more, six of the biggest, ugliest damn dogs I’d ever seen come bursting into the room. As big as damn horses, if they were an inch, I’d swear it on Hel’s . Had these huge spines sticking out of their backs, too, big clusters of them. Only thing was, they couldn’t see us, not a damn one of us! They sort of circled around for a minute, trying to catch a scent I guess. That’s when the least likely thing imaginable happened.

Copoc, the kulkan, he claims to be a shaman. Up to this point, all I’d ever seen him do was mumble in that lizard language they have, wave a bag of something – probably scales and eggshells and swamp water or whatever else lizard men think is sacred – and do what he refers to as “Calling the spirits.” It’s always “The Spirit of my Ancestors” or “The Spirit of Battle” or some similar primitive idea of religion. Now, I’ve seen enough magic and enough temple miracles and all that to know better than to doubt the gods and the sprits and so forth. But the thing was, this Copoc, no matter what spirit he called on, the Spirit of the Egg or the Spirit of Earth or the bloody Spirit of that Bottle of  Brandy over there – they never, ever seemed to answer him. Not once. So, I’d sort of got the idea that he was, you know, a little bit touched in the head. Like one of those human nutcases that claim to be a Prophet or something like that, you know, a little crazy. Or maybe he was just a con-man, either way, I was sure he wasn’t a holy man.

So just about then, Copoc holds up his bag of mud or whatever, and calls on “The Spirit of the Waters” and orders that flaming demon to leave. And, wonder of wonders, I guess the spirit answered him, because that demon turned tail and ran like all the Angels and a couple of saints were after him. I have to admit, I was a bit relieved. Copoc, he looked pretty damn surprised himself, like he hadn’t really expected it to work, you know?

So, we dispatched the howling dogs pretty quickly. Tough customers though, I had a few of those damn spines break off in me, and it damn near killed me getting ‘em back out. Copoc yelled at us to find the demon as quickly as we could, because it was sure to return once “the Spirit returns to the spirit realm.” I wasn’t so doubtful at this point, so we did as he said, and found the demon cowering down one of the tunnels where the dogs had been. 

He talked real prettily, offered us wealth and magic and anything else if we’d spare him, but I didn’t expect the promise of a demon would be worth a gnome’s fart when it came right down to it. And at any rate, that dwarf had a look on his face that lead me to believe there wouldn’t be any dealing with a demon, so we dispatched it. It vanished in a sort of greasy cloud of smoke, back to Hell or wherever I suppose.

We took a short breather about then, and a little bit later, things took a decided turn for the worse . . .


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## blargney (Jan 15, 2003)

*Re: Adventure 5: Snakes and Winches (just for you, blargney...)*



			
				CleverName said:
			
		

> *The doors were all locked, and let’s just say the cimbri couldn’t get elected head of an ogre’s thieves’ guild. We’d have had better luck getting those doors open by bashing his head against ‘em then he did trying to pick the locks.*




*laugh*
This guy has a hilarious way of slagging his companions!



> *He could have been searching for the frikkin’ Holy Chamber Pot Of All The Bearded Dwarves for all I cared – uh, no offense meant, Oinn.*




Ibid!



> *But the thing was, this Copoc, no matter what spirit he called on, the Spirit of the Egg or the Spirit of Earth or the bloody Spirit of that Bottle of  Brandy over there – they never, ever seemed to answer him.*




Ibid!  Poor Copoc.. I take it summoning spirits is a skill-based ability? *grin*



> *He talked real prettily, offered us wealth and magic and anything else if we’d spare him, but I didn’t expect the promise of a demon would be worth a gnome’s fart when it came right down to it.*




"Offer me everything I ask for." -- Inigo
"Anything you want." -- Count Rugen
"I want my father back, you son of a bitch." -- Inigo 

Great write-up Wayne!!!  I love the changing point of view, it's fun seeing the story from every character's perspective
-blarg!

ps - How up-to-date is this story hour right now?


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## CleverName (Jan 15, 2003)

Thanks, blargney.

Re: Writeups

The slams in the writeups are calm compared to what goes on at the table. You shouldn't play with us unless you can deal, or at least take some smak.

You are right about Copoc. We are using Mongoose Press' shaman book. It is great, but David rolls for crapola whenever his PC tries to talk to a spirit. It's become a long-running gag. 

Of course nothing beats the string of 1's rolled by Remi -- 5 that's right, five 1's in a row during a fight.  We all died laughing when Jon reached over and said, "Let me help you out, Remi." He grabbed the offending d20 and threw it all the way across his house -- losing it for him. Remi was known as "The SUQ" for a while after that. 

BUT, I don't write them, I post most of them though. They are all written in character by the players:

Gann, the hobgoblin fighter = Keith Martin
Copoc, the lizardfolk shaman = David Nickerson
Makar, the human sorcerer = Jon Hanna
Malcomb, the Cimbri fighter/rogue = Remi Treuer
Urian, the dwarf fighter/cleric = Steve MacDonald _(Steve's doing the next one.)_

Right now we are a just about a week behind. We try to play on Wednesdays and the writeups tend to hit on the following Tuesdays.


P.S. I finally got some more updates done on the site...


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## blargney (Jan 15, 2003)

CleverName said:
			
		

> *The slams in the writeups are calm compared to what goes on at the table. You shouldn't play with us unless you can deal, or at least take some smak.*




It's a "Please Check Your Ego At The Door" kind of game, by the sounds of it!  (I have a mental image of the beginning of The Blues Brothers, when Jake is getting all his equipment back from the warden...)



> *Remi was known as "The SUQ" for a while after that. *




Pardon my lack of cluefulness, but what does SUQ stand for? *scratches head*



> *They are all written in character by the players:*




Good deal, that must save you a lot of effort each week!  Leaves more energy to be devoted to cruelly punishing your PCs! *wink*



> *P.S. I finally got some more updates done on the site... *




YES!!  I've been wanting to see the classes that you've come up with!  Could you please do the feats and monster templates next?  I wanted to use the unseelie template potentially

-blargney


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## CleverName (Jan 15, 2003)

blargney said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> YES!!  I've been wanting to see the classes that you've come up with!  Could you please do the feats and monster templates next?  I wanted to use the unseelie template potentially
> ...




Done. Take a look. 


BTW, SUQing is how he does at rolling dice...


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## blargney (Jan 15, 2003)

CleverName said:
			
		

> *Done. Take a look.
> 
> 
> BTW, SUQing is how he does at rolling dice... *




Woohoo!  One last request... feats? 
-blargrog

ps - (I was too literal on the SUQ, I thought it was an abbreviation!)


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## CleverName (Jan 16, 2003)

blargney said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Woohoo!  One last request... feats?
> -blargrog
> ...




Okay already!!!!

 , they are up, check it out.


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## blargney (Jan 16, 2003)

Thanks Wayne!!

I'm really glad that your site is coming back together - you've got some of the most inspiring campaign material I've come across.  I'm about to start DMing for the first time, so I'm on the lookout for information that will help me have a successful game.  I'm leaning more and more towards using the Palaestra setting outright, and every bit you post tips the scales even farther in that direction!

I appreciate enormously the work you're putting in
-Kevin


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## CleverName (Jan 22, 2003)

*Adventure 7*

Poison and Ire
_(Editor’s Note: My writeups are entries in the holy journal kept by Urian. As part of the Halaglaz rite, the initiate is expected to present a detailed written record of his exploits to the Halaglaz that sponsored him. Think police paperwork…_Steve MacDonald)

I am Urian, son of Uar, blood of Udil. It has been 5 months, 23 days, 6 hours and 12 minutes since I cursed fate and swore war against the Norns and their agents. 

To date, I have slain twelve by my hand, fire or blade, twelve in conjunction with others, and claimed goods for the life of one. I have seized goods amounting to one bow, one cloak, one set of boots, and coin totalling 36 gold, 3 silver and 2 copper, Jormunnstein weight. I have lost one throwing dagger to fate’s wickedness, and discarded my old boots and cloak by my own choice.

I swear by Odin’s runes that what follows is a true account, may Loki’s eye fall on me should I lie.
_______________________________________________

Having taken up arms with those who slew my torturers (see entry of 5/22/23/19 for details and physical characteristics), we made council in the hallways of the labyrinth. There was talk of abandoning the inordinate city to its fate of gibbering slaughter, especially given the riches that the mercenaries had already claimed.

I made it clear that while I had no especial love for the city, I would not see so powerful an enemy of order as Demogorgon gain a new servitor. Further, it was felt by the others that this escape would be…unseemly. I assume they feared that future employers would look down upon them. 

Escape abandoned, the group elected for their Cimbri master thief to ascend the staircase in order to scout out the route ahead. I have reason to believe that his master’s credentials are filed with no guild or work hall, however, for moments after his ascent we heard a explosion, yell and crash indicating that he had failed in his task. We ascended the stairs at this time, and entered a circular room populated with 4 animated statues (see 5/22/23/19, paragraph 3, section 1 for description), 1 Yuan-ti corpse and the Cimbri covered in the ichor of said corpse.

The statues were eventually dispatched, but not before hammering and chipping that would put a third apprentice mason class to utter shame. In the same room, we discovered a stone door, flawlessly shaped by magic to cover direct access to the hell-bitch’s chambers, and another door, which we followed.

The second door entered into a lightless room. Sensing ambush, the human sorcerer discovered a rune mine etched in the ground similar to the one the Cimbri had stepped on before. I moved around it, and entered the depths of the room.

I must admit that I failed to notice an ambush here, and will accept punish as needed. We were set upon my enemies, numbering two animated statues and two Yuan-ti. One proved himself a magic worker, as he cast a magic net to hold us from charging. He then cast a fear magic similar to the one encountered by me earlier (see 5/22/23/19, paragraph 5, section 1 for description and effects listing), preventing the Cimbri from engaging. Things seemed dire…

They became even more dire, however, as the human sorcerer spoke words of blasphemy and opened a rip to some dark plane. From this issued forth a gigantic ape, wreathed in purplish smoke and brimstone, an obvious servant of chaos and its powers. Fixed fast as I was, it was entertaining to see an agent of the Norns deal out death to its bretheren, as it ripped one statue apart with it’s claws and the throat of a Yuan-ti with its muzzle. The human bears watching, and received it: We took some enjoyment from viewing his struggle to leave the web that held him. I counted 5 minutes and 23 seconds before he tore himself loose.

As he was the only option available for stealth, we dispatched the Cimbri down the corridor ahead, hoping that he would not fail in his mission. We were not disappointed, as he returned with a story of a giant animated statue which guarded the stairs leading to the ritual area. The human sorcerer blasphemed again, bring forth giant fiend wolves forth to harass the statue as we passed through invisibly. Most troubling…

Coming down the passage to the ritual area, we entered a room centered upon a set of double doors, mounted on which was a very impressive lock, half my size if it was anything. The Cimbri master thief was called for, and we watched nervously as he set to work on the complexity before us.

The hated Norns must have set their eyes upon him, for no sooner had he inspected the lock for defenses than it sprayed flaming oil on his form, illuminating him sufficiently for the invisible guards standing near him to lay into his flaming form with their massive halberds. None can know the ways of our bitch-crones, of course, but the halberds seemed excessive for one of his stature.

At any rate, we entered combat with the purple-armored guardians, dispatching them at no small cost to ourselves. All eyes settled again on the lock, and the smoldering Cimbri attempted in vain to open it, with the cries and noises from the far side of the door adding to his anxiousness. 

Twice we had relied on the magic of the human sorcerer, and now it became three as he called up his magics to force the doors, revealing a scene of great slaughter. Pits of boiling water and bodies, three of which were completed, had been set up on the far side of the room, and above the completed ones sat a cackling vapor in the shape of Demogorgon. Defending these were the now-usual rabble of yuan-ti and statues, but added to their ranks was the priestess of the cult.

Tall as a human woman, but dire in aspect she was, covered in head to toe in shimmering scale. In place of teats she bore two coiled serpents, their fangs dripping venom in mockery of the milk of a true mother. She wielded a wicked blade, the edge of which dripped with the blood of sacrificial victims, three of whom waited to fill the remaining pot.

Upon this site, we advanced with the hobgoblin and Cimbri leaping forward recklessly and nearly ending their lives due to this and the actions of a demon that the priestess had summoned. Using the magics granted by the All-Father, I concentrated on my section of the battle, advancing upon the archers defending her, cleaving one in twain and calling her out to face me. 

This proved to be an error, and never again will I taunt the servants of the Norns with false bravado. She was upon me in an instant, and I am sure that only the order’s teachings kept me from being slain by the two mighty swings of her scimitar with its dark etchings laid upon it. I kept my feet, however, and was gladdened some time later to see her dispatched by my companions, causing her followers to flee.

We leave from here to eventual freedom, but first we will sack the remaining rooms as a lesson to all that conspire with wicked fates.


							By my seal and oath,


							Urian Uarson
							On fate’s wheel


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## blargney (Jan 22, 2003)

Woohoo!  Thanks Clevername! 

Steve is really into Lawful (with a capital L) spellcasters, isn't he?  It seems to me that Theodorus espoused a lot of the same ethics Urian does.  He's very good at it, though, so it makes for an interesting read!

-blarg


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## CleverName (Jan 29, 2003)

*Adventure 8*

Behind Glazed Eyes
_Copoc Kitzam _ (David Nickerson)

(GM Note: Nak Te Kan, Kanul Yat Balam, Yax Che Mal, etc. are spirits Copoc speaks to and gains spells from.)

The fly spell cast on me by my Spirit allies was still active after the fight with Wulvera, so I drifted downward to rejoin my comrades. I silently thanked Kanul Yat Balam once more for his timely dismissal of the stinging demon.  For a while I felt that I was losing touch with my guardian spirit and all the other spirits as well, almost as if I wasn’t myself, as if a foreign entity clouding my vision and moving my very limbs.  Although weary after this great struggle, I sensed an even stronger bonding with the spirit world.  

Slowly, Kanul Yat Balam allowed me to see the true extent of his knowledge and wisdom. 

My associates dispatched our remaining foes, although two slithered away through the many vents they scattered around their accursed lair. My comrades gathered a pile of magical loot from our foes.  Skirting chunks of shattered statue and Yuan-ti entrails, I joined them. Urian suited up in some glamered full plate and donned Gauntlets of Ogre Strength gained from the warriors in the outer hall.  I was fortunate enough to acquire a Circlet of Persuasion from Wulvera.  (This will be a tremendous aid in dealing with capricious and sometimes volatile spirits!)

Gann suggested that I also take the Robe of Blending, so I may move among the humans with less notice. After some thought, he decided to don the second suit of plate himself.  Makar took a pink and green Ioun stone and Gann one of a dusty rose color.  Malcolm retrieved a +1 halberd. Brone, or Prince Vahana, as he bid us to call him, chose to give up his portion of the treasure as partial payment to the party.  Finally, Urian hefted the green scimitar of Wulvera, Demogorgon’s tooth – instantly its evil drained him of some of his spirit, such was its evil. He threw it down but then wrapped it in some cloth and claimed it as a portion of his own treasure -- to be returned to his Holy Order, the Halaglaz, and destroyed.

Urian healed Gann repeatedly -- I healed Malcolm and myself. I assured Nak Te Kan that my use of a magical healing device is in no way an affront to her, and that only by her mere presence allows me to do this. 

After some discussion, we decided to continue seeking Wulvera’s office. We entered the ruined hall debating whether or not we should visit Kedward and sell him the “vile” portion of our treasure.  The debate proved to be short lived however, as the mere suggestion of such an act caused Urian’s impressive dekkalfar nostrils to flare.  “Chaos mongers,” he mumbled. (Urian fails to see that there is a balance to all things, and that Chaos cannot be eliminated like leeches.  It may be a lesson that only the spirits of time can teach.)  

Cautiously we crept past the large statue, now inanimate after the death of their mistress, and spied scattered pieces of fiendish wolf, along with some grisly stains and dancing puffs of chaotic fur.  Urian glanced at Makar and shook his head disapprovingly.  Soon we are back at the sealed door.

Urian quickly broke out his pick, as dwarves are wont to do, and began smashing the barrier.  He was successful after nearly ten minutes -- it was an very impressive feat, though almost as loud as tossing a fire cricket into a pocket of swamp gas!  

Passing through, we were greeted by another inanimate statue.  Makar tried detecting magic to no avail, and Malcolm locates a storeroom before sneaking down the hallway to do a little reconnaissance.  To everyone’s astonishment he returns unscathed, and with news of strange noises.  Vahana cast some spells on himself and returned to his half-rat form as we prepared to enter the room.  

Gann threw open the door and we found two great chests, cleverly hiding a huge, fiendish, half green dragon viper!  Malcolm slid in for an attack with his +1 axe and Gann moves in to strike as well.  I am unable to see from my vantage, but I distinctly heard a horrid wail followed by a screaming hiss and several vehement Cimbri curses.  A vile acid breath splatters on Urian as he rushed through the door in a rage to polish off the furious beast.  

After providing some well-deserved healing for Malcolm, we shut the master thief inside the room and let him do his thing – alone. Silence follows, then a brief hum and whooshing noise.  Even the wisest of spirits shall never understand how he is able to dismantle an acid-vapor sprayer, bypass a toxic dust dispensing mechanism, and yet prove incapable of opening the chests!  Malcolm claimed, however, despite the acrid smells coming from his person that this is the case.

We tried an adjacent door and find a library of sorts. Vahana collected a few volumes before we moved on.  I respect the shape-shifter, if not completely trust him by now.  Perhaps finally knowing the identity of our employers will set my mind completely at ease.  

Soon we were entering a laboratory.  Makar was very impressed with the alchemical gear and his eyes lit up greedily.  Unfortunately, we had no way to transport such a load, but were rewarded with four vials of Demon’s Breath and a Yuan-ti scroll depicting a recipe for the dread substance! Urian immediately smashed the vials and Vahana burned the formula to a crisp! I could guess that Malcom and Makar might have had other ideas about what to do with those items…well, doomed Theon would have been happy.

The adjoining room was untrapped -- a bedchamber of sorts -- covered in erotic snake motifs. It provided us with a gift for Kedward.  In a portable writing desk we found a volume containing a detailed account of Wulvera’s plans.  I silently confered with Yax Che Mal, expecting to be rushed by more black kulkans at any moment.  None appeared.  Perhaps they had all fled with their dark masters?  

The journal was written in the snake-people’s language but Vahana translated some interesting parts for us:

“The alchemist Krace's formulae have, after some modification on my part, proven effective. The demon's breath elixir is now a popular item. As with the whores, I have given away twice what I have sold in order to stimulate my market! I have spoken with a representative coven from the Three Mothers about creating a regular supply for them. After my apotheosis, we will be able to deal with them on an equal footing, strengthening our negotiations with them."

…and…

"Krace's long years of exile among the dim-witted Silures should be acknowledged by The Nest and perhaps be put and an end. I have sent word to them via the Shadow Sea."

Vahana told us that "nest" referred to a group of Yuan-ti leaders (like Wulvera) that cooperate to some degree. He went on so say that while Yuan-ti are loyal to their "race," they have no central government/religion and their leadership is balkanized. Strong yuan-ti leaders, usually 3 or more, sometimes form these coalitions called, nests.

Not pausing long to ponder these clues, we also found a key.  Makar discovered that a section of the floor radiated magic, but we ignore this for the moment and rush to the chests.  They contain an impressive stash consisting of 40,000 silver pieces, 2000 gold pieces and 300 platinum pieces, divided neatly into small, 100 coin bags.  It is determined that we shall leave the silver for Kedward to retrieve at his leisure. The rest is ours!

Returning to investigate the magic square, Makar determined that there may be some kind of teleportation effect there. Soon, we heard a faint drumming from below us. Ignoring that, Vahana tossed a bag of coins on the area radiating magic but it just slid across the floor.  Then the drumming became louder however, so we decided to investigate.  At this point Malcolm suddenly gets excited and quaffs a potion of glibness one unbelievable gulp.  I realized immediately that the whole party is reacting to voices - curse these tympanic membranes! Apparently they’ve been listening to voices speaking Rogulkan and common, intermingled with violent choking!  We scramble desperately through the hole knocked in the wall by the dwarf, trying to discern where the voices are coming from and avoid another confrontation.  After some slick maneuvering, Malcolm sneaked down the stairs and glimpsed eight orcs in chain mail, all carrying shields with triangular devices.  Leading them was one of the snake-humans!

I must say that I have never seen Gann truly rattled, but this news disturbed him greatly.  “These are the monks of dire hunger,” he exclaimed, “the cannibal orcs of the Triad that rule Kostelna with an iron fist and an unending appetite!”

“We’re going to be orc-e if we don’t think of some way around them, and they are standing in front of the only way out of here.” 

Never lacking a plan, good or bad, Malcolm asked to borrow my newly acquired Robe of Blending and this is when I begin to comprehend the true genius of the master thief.  He intended to appear as one of the orcs and use his Potion of Glibness to convince them to let him pass while the rest of us make good our escape.  Not being fluent in Rogulkan, Gann taught him how to say a few quick phases that we hoped would distract him. To be extra convincing, he used the robe to conjure up some hideous mouth wounds, complete with a bolt protruding from his jaw.  

Once again relying on invisibility, Gann and I prepared to sneak out.  I sought Kanul Yat Balam’s aid as well, and he lent me his wisdom concerning the fine art of moving silently.  (Being able to observe the material world for countless millennia certainly has its advantages…)  Brone shifted into the form of a dire rat, Makar picked him up and they, along with Urian dimension doored outside the whorehouse. 

Malcolm, with Gann and I following, passed by the guard-orcs and outside into a sea of nearly 6 platoons of the monks!  A captain rushed over with one of the Yuan-ti escapees in tow. And Gann’s words delivered by the glib thief sealed the snake’s doom: “We’ve been ambushed; they have a temple to some snake god in there!” 

The yuan-ti’s eyes barely have time to widen before the thick-bladed dagger of the orc captain spilled his entrails before the doors of the porphyry house!

“Looks like snake’s on the menu boys!”

We all ran for it as the horde went wild with anger and bloodlust. The most basic law of Kostenla had been broken. There would be blood.

We regrouped later at the Rusty Shunt. We wrapped Wulvera’s book with Kedward’s Wand of Invisibility, gave them to Old Lars for safekeeping, and send a half-orc stable mucker to inform Kedward.  As we made our way to the docks we saw crowds of Kostelna’s residents swiftly approaching Porphyry House.  By the time we heard the screams, we were safely aboard White Dragon.  

Of course our transport is curious about Urian.  We surrounded the dwarf and proceed to explain the rule of the ghost ship - “Don’t Talk About Ghost Ship!”  Urian did not relish the idea of being thrown overboard, and so we seemed to reach a viable agreement.  

As we related our adventures to White Dragon we observed curls of smoke rising from Porphyry House in the distance and paused a moment to take pleasure in a job well done.  Evil teems evermore, but Theon would have been pleased to see such a blot put on the face of wickedness this day.  May his spirit find peace now. 

Once out of the harbor, we set sail back to Jormunsteinn and life was good for a few days.  The fish were fresher, the turtles crunchier, and I was able to dive and hunt and bond with Balamob.

I spent hours with Makar, Malcolm, Solveig and White Dragon learning much about ships and sailing, a craft which I’ve come to realize can be very useful so far from land.  I mapped my recent journeys for Nabok Chan, the very essence of Wanderlust.  

Spiritually I have grown, becoming more familiar with my Otherworldly allies, but it was not enough.  I yearned for more, for new and powerful contacts from beyond. I enjoyed a day of basking and endured a night of conversing with Xit Balbac, the crafty spirit of the Shadow Sea. He could tell me a name of one of the spirits of the Deep, but all he would tell me is: “Swim.”

For three days and three nights I tried to summon on of the ancient spirits of the Deep.  Splashing and chanting I plunged into depths which threatened my very survival.  I felt as if I might implode in the fist of Skia Thalassa.

I swam down, down beyond light, beyond life.  I started to black out, but instinct took over and miraculously, I resurfaced, only to be rewarded with curious stares from my comrades and whispers of disbelief that even my accursed ears can detect.  Finally I was able to wheedle a name of one of the Deep Sprits from Xit Balbac and on the fourth day Dalas Salik ascended from the Shadows and held me.

She was and is both beautiful and frightening.  She laughed in tears and cried in mirth.  She was everywhere, in my head, behind me, answering questions I haven’t asked.  Agreeing.  Yes agreeing.  Agreeing to grant me her patronage if I promised to one day retrieve something for her.  Dalas Salik is the most powerful spirit I have ever encountered, with the exception of Kanul Yat Balam of course, so I quickly accepted the offer.  Suddenly I felt I might regret my decision, for this is the sort of thing that foolish shamans of legend did and often lived (or died) to regret.  

I don’t remember surfacing or getting into the boat, I awakened as if from a terrible dream.  All is quiet save the sea.  I reached for my sacred vial, the healing balm of Nak Te Kan.  But my hand closes instead around a black serrated claw fastened to a string of ebony pearls – this was Dalas Salik’s gift, her fetish. Dismissing my reservations, I rose to a new day.  

After all, Kanul Yat Balam watches over me.  He will guide me to my true destiny, and he is not to be trifled with. 

Day six brings an unexpected squall.  I leaped at the opportunity to gain yet another spirit ally, but with no time to prepare my summoning rites, I may prove to be woefully inadequate.  Nonetheless, I attempted to arouse the Wraith of the Raging Storm.  To everyone’s surprise, a watery fey humanoid appears.  It is smallish, but appeared extremely pissed off.  

The aqueous fiend greased Makar and promptly knocked him overboard before attempting to throttle Malcolm and then squirting him in the face.  Giggling triumphantly, it disappeared in a fine mist as I attempted to capture it in a sack.  Never before have I encountered a physical manifestation of a spirit in the material world!  I could hardly contain my enthusiasm!  But, trying to convey the significance of this event to my companions was futile.  They backed away slowly and continued to eye me suspiciously.  Gann told me not to get too excited, it was probably just a baby water elemental or something.

The remainder of our voyage proved most uneventful.  Vahana/Brone informed us that upon reaching Jormunsteinn he must leave immediately to report to his superior, the Akkadian Aambassador to Iconium.  He promised to secure our payment, and to show his gratitude and good faith he presented us with a scroll of Mass Teleportation concealed within a Glove of Storing.  He also provided instructions on how to contact him in the future. 

Upon viewing the rocky heights of Jormunsteinn, Urian seemed increasingly anxious, and asks that the master thief deliver his journal to the head of his order.  He will not get off the ship until he is sent for. He paced relentlessly, threatening the various manifestations of Chaos.  Fortunately, he is unaware that he is surrounded by chaoswisps, tiny mischievous spirits that mock him constantly and poke fun at his bravado. It is inconvenient to not have the sharp hearing of my companions, but I do not know how the rest of them can be content to only view one world. 

______________________________________________

I wonder often about my tribe, and must decide if I, too, shall return home upon reaching the rock city.  It has been many moons since the loathsome black kulkans last attacked my brethren, so I suspect that they will soon rise once more.  The thought that they may now possess the secrets of creating Demon’s Breath plagues me incessantly.  They must be extinguished!  Perhaps my new companions will aid me in this endeavor.  They would be welcomed as warriors all for their brave efforts in purging evil from the land.  I must be patient in deciphering the perplexing riddles of Kanul Yat Balam, and then I must heed them to the best of my ability.

-- Copac, Kulkan Shaman


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## blargney (Feb 3, 2003)

Thanks for the update, CleverName!!

Copoc writes a great story!  (although I must admit that I'm having a little trouble understanding what he is referring to in game terms... :-\ )

-blarg


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## CleverName (Nov 18, 2003)

*Hitting The Reset Button*

Our on-again off-again campaign has been back "on" for a while and since I have a backlog of adventure write-ups now, I thought some of the folks that used to follow the various “Byzantium on the Shannons” might like to know what's up. 

Between adventures 8 and 9 I took a break from running games for a few months, over which time 3.5 came out. When I got the itch to return to the DM's chair, we decided to restart using the new ruleset. Since big changes were already afoot, I asked all the players to review their characters and tell me if they wanted to make any other changes. *Now* was the opportunity to re-tool and re-think. 

I have to say, this was the best experience I have ever had with implementing a big rules overhaul, it gave everyone a chance to really reexamine their PCs and look at how the rules and their character concept interacted. Overall everyone was happier under 3.5 and has been since.

Also during this time, one of the players, Steve, was forced to quit due to a new job...unfortunately that wasn't going to be the only time jobs would take a player away. 

Jon expressed some dissatisfaction with his current PC, Makar, and a strong desire to go back and finish some of the storylines form the original campaign. I could not get a consensus from the old players to do so -- some had also left the game. After discussions with Jon, we came up with a solution; I would bring his old character, Gudlag the dwarven druid, into this storyline -- thus leaving a way back into the old game and its plot threads (http://webpages.charter.net/wpeacock/palaestra/campaigns/tavia/tavia.htm). 

Keith also wanted to change and with the loss of Steve's fighter and Jon's sorcerer, the party was in a pinch. So, he made up a wizard, Andreas Laskaris, with a cohort, a fighter named Dario.

So the new party, freshly outfitted for 3.5 and hopefully creatively re-charged DM, was set to begin:

Andreas Laskaris -- human wizard (Keith Martin)
Copoc Kitzam -- Kulkan (lizardfolk) shaman (David Nickerson)
Dario -- human fighter (Andreas' cohort)
Gudlag Hamarson -- dwarven druid (Jon Hanna)
Malcomb -- Cimbri (half-elf) adventurer (Remi Treuer)


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## CleverName (Nov 18, 2003)

*What has Gone Before*

It would take another 40 posts to encapsulate the twists and turns of the previous story hours. The old party, of which Gudlag was a part, was involved in the machinations of a Necromancer by the name of Volodya. He had started a civil war in a Cimbri kingdom, while disguised as a cimbri ollave (cleric). The PC's discovered the Necromancer's invovlement, but not in time to prevent the war. 

With aid from the Tavians and Lord Vihar the PC's managed to defeat the Necromancer and slay his current incarnation, discovering that he was lich. This was done at the cost of many lives, including that of some dear friends. 

Gudlag swore revenge. 


*Gudlag’s Quest*

Gudlag spent a few months trying to track down leads to the Necromancer's lair, finally he discovered a map in one of the abandoned camps of the Necromancer’s forces in the no-man’s-mountains separating the northernmost Cimbri lands with Rolgulka. 

With this information Gudlag went back to the leaders of the human, Cimbri and Rolgulkans and asked for help dispatching their common foe. 

Gudlag led the group as a representative of the Druids; Cleon a cleric/wizard, represented the interests of the Tavians; Mikel, and Yarislav, two Glitterdeath Immortals, joined on behalf of Lord Vihar; Morin, a Cimbri sorcerer/tattooed warrior, and Vardidamus, a gnome rogue were both sponsored by Brice.

The party walked into a dungeon filled with undead, poison darts and other assorted traps. Vardidamus did his job well protecting the group from the traps until he ran into an airless room bound by magic. Dispels did not work and all that could be done was to watch him die. By this point Gudlag was not even sure if the place even held the phylactery. Perhaps the group was setup, betrayed? 

Encounters with innumerable undead (skeletons, shadows, zombies, ghouls, ghasts and ghosts) followed. After most of the party was killed and eaten, only Gudlag and the humans were left, but they were trapped -- fleeing headlong down a corridor with gibbering wights close on Gudlag’s iron-shod heels. Hal screeched out a warning from Gudlags’ shoulder as he realized that they were not headed towards the exit, but it was too late. There was a flash of blue light and the ground disappeared from below their feet, replaced by air and far, far below, water -- water as far as any could see.

The group had been teleported above the middle of the Skia Thalassa, hundreds of miles from Tavia!

One thing was very strange about the water in which the three landed, other than the fact that water is extremely hard at that height. It was preternaturally cold and black. Cleon went into shock, blood loss, and the bone-chilling cold. Before Gudlag could recover, the dark water took the mage. Gudlag summoned a porpoises and it took him out of the deadly pool of cold water and into the warmer waters of the inland sea. It stayed by his side, keeping the dwarf afloat until a passing Iconian ship, bound for Jormunstein, plucked him from the waters. 


*Gudlag’s Musings*

That black water has haunted you. Was that corridor a trap, or was the teleportation device something else, a means of escape for the Necromancer that you inadvertently triggered? If so, why would he come here? (It has occurred to you that to an undead, drowning is meaningless.) Since you have arrived on Jormunstein you have heard tales of undead pirates and the like...although you have not met anyone who have fought them, and escaped, that is. 

You have not given up on your promise, but Skule did not train up a dekkalfar fool. It was one thing to defeat the Necromancer surrounded by stout allies and in the forest. It is quite a different matter to go after him in his lair -- on his terms -- with folk you did not know well. You have decided that you are simply not powerful enough. One day you will go back, find his phylactery and destroy him forever. You'll need to be much stronger and you will need allies that both match you in power and you can trust not to fail when you meet those horrors again


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## Gideon (Nov 18, 2003)

Heeeeeeee's BAAAAAAAAAAAAAA---ACK!


woo hoo

being a pretty new/crappy dm I understand burnout well...happens to me a lot.  Hope you can avoid it this time.


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## CleverName (Nov 18, 2003)

Gideon said:
			
		

> Heeeeeeee's BAAAAAAAAAAAAAA---ACK!
> 
> 
> woo hoo
> ...





Thank's Gideon. I've been GMing for a long time, and once and a while you have to get on the other side of the screen to get your perspective back. 

I've got my fingers crossed...


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## CleverName (Nov 18, 2003)

*Pre Adventure 9*

Downtime on Jormunsteinn

The Isle of Jormunsteinn boasts two main settlements. Haradrak is the largest surface town, the port city of Jormunsteinn. It is built at the base of the stone spire – the top of which seems perpetually shrouded in mist. Haradrak has at least one sub-layer as well. The docks are carved out of stone and the attached market and warehouses are under town proper.  A large sea cave in Haradrak’ port leads to an exclusive undermountain dock for the Dekkalfar King of Deep Haradrak, Lodur.

Deep Haradrak is the dwarven city that is built in the spire itself. Its galleries wander up and down the granite heart of the island. Few non—Alfar are allowed to venture here. Most business is conducted in one of the surface towns. 

Since the last adventure Copoc and Malcom have been enjoying a weeks-long rest at the Pheasant -- living off of the money they gained against the yuan-ti and waiting for Urian's initiation ceremony into the Halaglaz.

During that time they have heard the strange rumors of a dwarf that fell from the sky over the Skia Thalassa and brought to the island kingdom of Jormunsteinn by a passing human freighter. 

Gann and Makar have since decided to hire on to other vessels plying the trade on the Sea of Shadows. The friends departed, with promises to return. 

Finally the day of Urian’s investiture came and three Halaglaz escorted the Kulkan and Cimbri into Deep Haradrak. They traveled for over an hour, winding far into the depths of the dekkalfar stronghold, finally ending in a small amphitheater. The two dwarven warriors guided them to stone benches. A few more dwarves and two humans were also there. Suddenly the lights went out.

A voice began telling the tale of the Halaglaz.

_Roughly a thousand years before the first human foot touched the soil of Faerie, the dwarves had a thriving metropolis built into the base of Jormunsteinn, where it lay along a beautiful river valley. Their tunnels stretched up into the heart of the Jormunsteinn, and deep below its surface. 

At that time, what is now the straits of Iconium formed a huge natural dam, but some force weakened that wall and sea came rushing into the valley, wiping out the dwarven city at the time of the new king’s coronation – killing most of their leaders and trapping thousands of dwarves inside the spire of Jormunsteinn in a vast, but diminishing pocket of air. Worse yet, dark things swam in those waters and began picking off the survivors. With the king, druids and high priests now dead, many dwarves gave up, some committed suicide. Hope faded in the gloom and gathering waters. 

A few of the novice priests survived and they rallied in face of this doom. They convinced the others to take matters into their own hands. They gathered the best miners and engineers left and set them to tunnel their way above the surface of the new sea, now hundreds of feet above them -- up through the solid granite heart of the Jormunsteinn. The new brotherhood of priests took upon the job of protecting the miners by battling the waters and the creatures it hid. By the time the miners tunneled above the level of the newly born sea, only three of the twenty were left, but the gods themselves marked them with the Halaglaz rune on each of their hands. The Brotherhood of Halaglaz, The Brotherhood of Ordeal was born._

Torches were lit and they saw Urian in his full regalia, hammer ready in his hands. He stood alone in the center of stage below the others. An older Halagaz announced one more test and a trap door opened, vomiting out a creature of terror, a chaos beast!

The fight was long and hard, but the dwarf prevailed. His hands were marked with the Halaglaz rune and all were led to a waiting feast. During the feast Copoc and Malcomb met Guldag, one of the other dwarves in attendance and the two humans -- Andreas and Dario, a wizard and his servant, a warrior. 

Andreas had wheedled and invitation in order to meet Gudlag and the group hit it off and decided to meet again onboard the White Dragon to further discuss their mutual goals.


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## CleverName (Nov 18, 2003)

*Adventure 9:*

New Friends and Obligations
_Continuing the Journal of Gudlaug Hamarson _ (Jon Hanna)


	The last few days have been…interesting.  I have continued to stay in close proximity to the human wizard Andreas, and his body guard Dario.  It seems wise to keep close with these two since our goals remain similar: The ultimate destruction of the Lich we have known as Volodya, or simply the “Necromancer.”  Our last month spent in Jormunsteinn has been refreshing for me, but I’m not sure how much longer my companions will want to stay.  It has been years since I have been to a purely Dekkalfar city, and I must say that I am enjoying it considerably.  I find the dourness and stoic quality of these people is like a balm to me, after having spent so many years in the company of the more spastic races.  I could easily spend much more time here, but I fear that I must soon move on and go about my duty.

	A few days ago I was invited to view an unusual ceremony involving a dekkalfar initiate of the Halaglaz.  His name is Urian.  I have never met one of the Halaglaz, so I was pleased to get an opportunity to see what they are up to.  I was allowed to bring my two human companions, which I did.  Urian went through a ritual in which he fought some type of chaos spawn.  He defeated it, loudly and with much splattering of viscera, and the ceremony was over.  It all went rather quickly.  After the ceremony we were introduced to some companions of Urian:  Malcolm - a Cimbri warrior, Makar - a human sorcerer, Gann - a hobgoblin fighter, and most interesting, Copoc - a kulkan shaman.  I have never met a Kulkan before.  I find his beliefs and abilities to be most interesting.  Andreas and I talked with these men after the ceremony, and learned that they had been involved in some adventures that may have bearing on our quest to discover what interests Volodya my have in this region.  We were unable to discuss anything in detail, however, and Malcolm invited us to come take a cruise on their boat the next day.  We accepted.

	In the morning we met with Malcolm, Copoc, and Urian.  It seems that Makar had been hired to provide protection for an outgoing merchant ship, and Gann had also found other employment opportunities.  It seems that their group is breaking up.  This disturbed Malcolm and Copoc.  They told Andreas and myself that they were in the process of going up into the Cimbri lands to hunt down a group of Yuan-ti who are trying to get a base of operations set up.  I found their story disturbing and offered any assistance I might be able to provide.  Necromancer or no necromancer, my duties as a druid require me to protect Faerie against invaders.

	We were well out of the harbor at this point, and had moved some ways up the coast.  Hal, my rat friend, had climbed up onto the carved dragon head at the prow of the boat.  Suddenly, when my back was turned, I heard him squeal, and fall off into the water.  I went to the side and helped fish the swimming rat out of the water.  He told me that the dragon head had shaken him off after he had relieved himself on it.  I found this unlikely, but after Malcolm and Urian gave each other strange looks, they made us swear vows of secrecy, and told us that the boat was alive.  At this point the dragon head turned towards us and confirmed it.  I was amazed.  This boat is a dragon, apparently, that has been cursed into becoming a boat.  While we were marveling at this, suddenly the boat came to a halt in the water.  The boat told us that it couldn’t move.  Looking over the side, we were amazed to see a group of Sahuagin rising out of the water and preparing to attack us.  There were also sharks circling.  Apparently, they had a water elemental that they were controlling to hold and try to sink the boat.  If it had been a normal boat it probably would have succeeded.  The Sahuagin fired a volley of arrows at us, and the fight was on.  Andreas, Copoc, and myself began dealing out damage to them via magic, while Malcolm, Urian, and Dario dispatched the ones who climbed onto the boat.  These Sahuagin had attacked the wrong boat full of travelers.  There were about 20 of the attackers, lead by a four-armed cleric of some type.  They themselves were little match for us, but we discovered to our horror that there were hundreds, maybe thousands of Sahuagins swimming past us underwater.  They were headed for the docks of Jormunsteinn. 

 It was an invasion!


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## CleverName (Nov 19, 2003)

*Adventure 10*

The Belly Of The Beast
_Continuing the Journal of Gudlaug Hamarson _ (Jon Hanna)


	When we realized that the Sahuagin were invading Jormunsteinn, I quickly transformed myself into an eagle and flew off to warn the city.  The boat itself turned invisible and flew back towards the docks.  As I was flying back to the shack of the harbormaster, I saw a giant shadow moving under the water.  The shadow was immense!  I realized to my utter shock that it was a huge sea Drake.  By Nature’s holy fury!  I increased my pace and flew down to the docks.  I turned back into my natural form and rushed into the harbormaster’s shack.  “You’re being invaded!”  I yelled at him.  “Hundreds of Sahuagin are heading this way now.  They have a sea drake with them.  Sound the alarm!”  The man jumped to his feet and ran to his window.  When he saw that the sahuagin had started attacking boats out in the harbor, he moved quickly.  He had a man light a huge bucket of tar that was up on a raised platform.  This was apparently some type of alarm system.  Huge clouds of black smoke billowed forth.  A man also started blowing on a giant dekkalfar horn.  A loud, low rumble sounded the alarm.

	There was an Iconian war galley tied up at the docks used by the humans.  We could see that the sahuagin were attacking it.  The sea serpent wrapped a coil of its huge body around it, and was starting to squeeze.  “Hurry,” the harbormaster shouted.  ‘The Eorl’s son is visiting that galley.  He’s on that ship!”  I saw a dekkalfar up on the aft deck of the galley.  I turned back into an eagle and flew over towards it.  As I was coming up to the dock, I saw the Dragon ship with my companions appear as if coming out of a mist.  No one else saw it.  

	My companions immediately started attacking the sea drake, and the sahuagin that were swarming up onto the dock.  Urian and Dario attacked the Sahuagin with axe and bow, while Copoc, Andreas, and Malcolm tried to do something to the sea drake.  The head of the drake was quite large, but quick, as one of the humans on the galley found out.  The serpent swallowed him in one quick motion.  Malcolm, quaffed a potion of Spider Climb and litterally ran up onto it’s head and started wailing away with his axe.  I brought forth a fire elemental, and had it attack the coil of the drake that was wrapped around the galley.  The captain of the galley let out an even louder scream of horror than she was already wailing.  Apparently the cauldron of Iconian Fire that was on the galley was a little too close to the fire elemental I had unleashed.  Oops!  Well, that just gave us a new reason to get this over with quickly.  

	I flew up behind the head of the beast, with the intension of using a close combat spell on it, when suddenly it whipped its head around and gulped me down!   The vileness of that gullet is beyond my means to express.  I slid down its throat and found myself in its stomach.  It’s a good thing that I’m a dekkalfar, and can see in the darkness.  I cast a protection from fire spell on myself, as I sloshed around amidst the creature’s stomach juices.  Then I cast flamestrike on the spot I was standing.  BOOM!  The Giant Sea serpent apparently has an aversion for fire in the belly.  Its stomach rolled, and I, along with the other man who got swallowed, was vomited back out.  We landed in the sea with a splash.  The Sea Drake unrolled itself from around the ship and bolted out to sea.  Copoc, who could understand its language, heard it muttering as it left that no amount of money Abashag paid it was worth being killed for.  This name meant something to Copoc and Malcolm, who gave each other a strange look.

	The Eorl’s son, Uller, ran off of the Iconian galley and thanked us.  When he was told that Abashag was possibly behind this attack, he grew quite concerned.  He looked across the bay towards a lighthouse that was on an Island.  When he saw Sahuagin going in to the structure, he became very agitated.  “I need your help, but you must promise to keep a secret.” He stated.  We agreed, and he continued.  “I think Abashag and the Three Mothers are after an item we have hidden out on the island.  I think this whole attack is just a feint, so that they can get it unmolested.  There is no time for the city to get troops out to the island.  Can you do it?”  We told him that we could, and he continued.  “The is a Horn of the Tritons buried under the basement of the lighthouse.  If Abashag gets it, we will be unable to call them to the aid of the city -- perhaps she could even use it to harm the Tritons, who are the enemies of the Sahuagin.  This would be disastrous!”  

	We promised to try our best to stop Abashag, as Uller ran off to see to the defenses of the city.  We got onto the boat, and told it that Abashag was in the lighthouse across the bay.  Apparently there is some history between the boat and Abashag, a sea hag that Copoc, Malcolm and the others had fought before.  They had killed her on an island out in Skia Thalassa, but had not burned her body.  Now she was back.  In all of the chaos of the battle with the invading Sahuagin, our boat was unnoticed as it turned invisible and flew out to the island.

	When we docked at the island, we rushed in and found that some acquatic trolls and ogres had dispatched the Dekkalfar guards.  We set into them quickly.  Malcolm and Dario ran to the front of the fighting, and soon, our enemies were vanquished.  We searched the area and soon found some stairs spiraling down into the darkness.  We headed down, and heard some talking.  An awful voice was croaking out commands.  It was the Sea hag Abashag.  Apparently we were too late.  She and her trolls already had the Horn.  The others rushed towards the room where she was, while Andreas and myself hung back.  Malcolm engaged another troll, and Copoc started speaking with his spirits.  I asked Andreas if he had a spell of Dispel magic available to him.  He nodded that he did, and I told him to be ready.  I cast Rock to Mud on the floor surrounding Abashag and her minions, and Andreas quickly dispelled it, after they had sunk down to their ankles.  Now they were stuck in the stone.  We laid into them.  Abashag cast a _dimension door_ spell, and disappeared.  She popped up in the room with the stairs leading up.  Andreas earned his keep by hitting her with a _feeblemind_ spell.  Miraculously, it worked!  Abashag turned into a gibbering idiot, and fled.  She was much faster than us, and we thought she would get away.  Luckily Andreas also had a _dimension door_  spell, and he teleported back out to the boat.  When he told the boat the Abashag was about to run out of the door, the boat floated up and waited.  When the _feeblemind_ed Abashag burst forth from the door, the boat fell on top of her with a sickening crunch.  

So much for that sea hag…


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## coyote6 (Nov 22, 2003)

I can see her trying to explain that one to the powers of evil: "I had stoneskin, protection from 2 energy types, resistance to the other three. But how was I supposed to anticipate a falling boat!" 

Good to see y'all back.


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## CleverName (Nov 24, 2003)

coyote6 said:
			
		

> I can see her trying to explain that one to the powers of evil: "I had stoneskin, protection from 2 energy types, resistance to the other three. But how was I supposed to anticipate a falling boat!"
> 
> Good to see y'all back.




Yeah, they did not forget to burn her body and cast its ashes to the four winds *this* time. 

From the first time they killed her:

Player 1: "Wow, she was a badass...a sorceress and a green hag!
Player 2: "I can't believe she killed Theon."
Player 3: "Yes, that is a damn shame, but at least he died heroically -- a paladin defending innocents, and us."
Player 1: "Well, we won't have to worry about her anymore. How many more days until we reach Jormunsteinn?"
Player 2: "Why is the DM smiling?"
DM: "About two days.Hmm, hmm. I know that it's been a while since we played, but...what game are we playing?"
Player 3: "D&D, smart a$$..."
Player 2: "Umm, guys, what did we do with the hag's body??
Player 1: "Oh crap, I've been playing for twenty years. I can't believe we forgot..."

Now all they have to worry about is Abashag's mom and coven mates -- the Three Mothers!!!

Thanks, for tuning in, Bob!


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## CleverName (Nov 24, 2003)

*Adventure 11*

The Wonders of Jormunsteinn
_by Copoc Kitzam _ (David Nickerson)


No sooner than White Dragon had crushed the life from the vile sea hag Abashag, we prodded the corpse for treasure.  Unfortunately, several potions were demolished, but we collected a ring of protection, a scroll bearing the spells Haste, Dispel Magic, and Fly, and a ring with the Three Mother’s insignia, slightly bent, but holding three magnificent opals.  Also, we recovered the coveted  Horn of Triton Summoning- possibly the cause of the thwarted sahuagin invasion.  Determined not to make the same mistake twice, we burned  Abashag to black ash and crunchy bone fragments before sailing back to Jormunsteinn.  May her vile spirit dwell forever in the Shadow Realms!

There was much commotion in the streets, a bizarre mixture of jubilant and mournful dekkalfar.  Many paid their respects to those lost in the battle while others reveled in drink and games, overjoyed to find themselves alive.  I noted one particularly boisterous group of dwarves erecting wrought iron hoops mounted on poles and arranged at varying heights.  They wielded mallets forged of a wide variety of metals to propel sahuagin heads, which were surprisingly aerodynamic, through the hoops.  

We asked for an attendant to conduct us to Brathor Goldenhand and we were soon approached by his son Uller, who was directing the massive and increasingly smelly clean up.  Instinct urged me to consume the flesh of my fallen foes, but even I was repulsed by its foul stench.  Perhaps I am becoming “civilized?“  After giving him the horn to deliver to his father, we went our separate ways.  Gudlaug sought others of his faith, Malcolm went out to join in the revelry, and I retired to my inner sanctum to commune with the spirit of Kanul Yat Balam.  It had been too long since I had visited my people, so I inquired about their well-being and voiced my concerns that the dreaded black kulkans might return soon to terrorize my village.  Kanul Yat Balam assured me that all was well and that I was indeed following his path.  He then requested to be further enlightened by the rare extravaganza of capering dekkalfar, and so I slipped into the night and rejoined Malcolm just in time to witness the tabletop finale of his unprecedented yet inspiring performance. 

The ballad (i.e., drunken spectacle) went something like this…

(Currently awaiting Remi’s insert)​
The night was not a loss, however, as Malcolm gleaned some interesting information about the Iconian Ambassador Sir Narses Mandormenos Spartanos.  He had resided in Jormunsteinn for ten years, was fluent in all of the faerie languages, and appeared to be in Brathor Goldenhand’s inner circle.  This was apparently unusual for a human.  He also had a sister named Bacauda who was lobbying for an Iconian temple in Jormunsteinn.  

The next morning a loud banging brought me to instant alertness.  Hoisting my greatclub, I invoked the Fury of Yax Che Mal.  Gudlaug, who had slipped in during the night, opened the door for a bleary eyed dekkalfar who promptly summoned us to convene in two hours time at the citadel of Eorl Brathor Goldenhand.  After I had chosen favored allies from my increasingly impressive spirit entourage and my comrades had otherwise busied themselves, the dwarf returned and we were led into Brathor’s Citadel.  The stone dwellings silently boasted exquisite craftsmanship, though many passages were confining at times and rather difficult to navigate.  They were splendid nonetheless.

When we were presented to the eorl, he was studying gems and referencing passages in a large tome.  He was dressed immaculately, with hints of Iconian garb.  Finally he looked up, introductions were made, and many thanks were offered.  Brathor acknowledged us as heroes and presented us with finely crafted dekkalfar bracelets.  Also he gifted Gudlaug with a war hammer, Malcolm with a dagger, and me with a sleek and deadly longspear.  Brathor then inquired about our part in the battle and was suitably impressed until Malcolm cleverly dropped the name of Abashag.  Brathor’s jaw dropped, his beard further polishing his already lustrous boots.  The eorl appeared shocked to learn that the sea serpent was employed by the sea hag.  Did Uller not tell him what had transpired?  The ensuing conversation was both puzzling and frustrating, a battle of wits, with both parties vying for information while attempting to reveal nothing.  We did learn that Brathor knew of the Coven of the Three Mothers, and had watched their power grow in his lifetime.  He believed they were now commanding vessels of undead!  He was also familiar with Abashag, calling her the Mother’s progeny, and seemed genuinely relieved that we had killed the hideous monster.  Again.  And burned her this time.  All in all it was a very strange conversation, and raised as many questions as it answered.  Was the whole invasion simply a diversion?  An opportunity for Abashag to claim the horn?  Was this just the beginning of an insidious campaign directed by the Three Mothers?  Perhaps the most troubling revelation was the apparent lack of communication between father and son.  It was a very strange conversation indeed.

Before long Brathor Goldenhand’s mood seemed to lighten.  He thanked us again and mentioned that the Iconian ambassador, Sir Narses, would like to meet with us as well.  As we prepared to leave he extended sincere wishes that we remain upon the island for the Festival of Nott, the dekkalfar goddess of spirits and the night.  It was to take place in three days on the isle’s opposite shore.

Kanul Yat Balam’s appearance was forceful and sudden.  He urged me to focus, hinting at a possible traitor in the midst of the dekkalfar.  A conspiracy with Abashag!  The Horn of Triton Summoning was supposedly well hidden.  How did Abashag know where it was?  Who could have divulged such information?  I warned my comrades to be wary.  Advice from Kanul Yat Balam, no matter how vague and obscure, is not to be taken lightly.  And this had been his most straightforward revelation ever!

Slightly unnerved, we kept our appointment with the Iconian ambassador.  We were well met by Sir Narses, and thanked profusely for our part in the previous day’s drama.  Suspecting that we had suffered physical trauma, and obviously unaware of my rapport with the healing spirit Nak Te Kan, Sir Narses offered to heal us and return us to our previous vitality.  He introduced his sister, Bacauda, and she requested to do a spell on me.  I agreed, as indeed I still felt the effects of Abashag’s withering gaze and was quite curious to witness the magic of a human.  Immediately I felt nothing.  No restored vitality.  No resurging strength.  Gudlaug snickered.  I am ever wary of those professing his faith.  Perplexed and slightly annoyed, I resolved to summon Nak Te Kan soon but said nothing.  Bacauda then smiled and promptly restored my strength.  

Soon we were regaled with a sumptuous and delectable eight course meal.  Inevitably, the conversation settled upon the world of spirits.  Bacauda asked if spirits were good or evil.  I chuckled inside.  If only it were that simple.  In vain, I attempted to describe the nature of spirits and the countless wonders of the hidden world in which they dwell.  I extolled the Fury of Yak Che Mal, touted the unwavering strength of the mountain spirits, and raved over the fathomless wisdom of the deep sea dwellers.  Finally Gudlaug suggested that I summon the spirit of a spoon.  

I attempted this with humility and good humor, and surprisingly the tiny spirit was not dormant.  It greeted all, claiming to have been awakened during its transformation into a spoon.  It was extremely chipper, content to transport soups and other tasty morsels to salivating apertures.  Of course no one present could see the wee sprite and it was not powerful enough to physically manifest itself.  

The humans immediately washed the spoon and took it away to be revered.  By Kanul I know not if they mock me or if they just suffer the oblivious fate of the spiritblind!  I forget sometimes how life can be without the spirits.  But it is of no matter.  I live to serve Kanul Yat Balam, unfazed by the ridicule of others.  If he sees fit to reveal himself solely to Copoc Kitzam then so be it!  Forgive me.  I return to my tale.

Following the delightful meal, Bacauda revealed that she had enveloped me earlier in a spell meant to detect evil.  Quickly, so as not to offend, she explained that the serrated claw hanging from my neck had aroused her suspicions and had indeed, she claimed, been touched by evil.  I gazed at the black appendage of  Dalas Salik, razor sharp and wickedly efficient.  I turned to Bacauda, and everyone present, and assured them that the claw posed no danger and that in fact, its spirit had proved invaluable in our struggle against the sahuagin, freeing our vessel from the water elemental that held it fast.

Kanul Yat Balam has bade me to use Dalas Salik’s powers to further his goals, and this I will continue to do , secure in the knowledge that Dalas Salik is safely contained, regardless of her nature.  Still, I will remember Bacauda’s words.

Up until the moment we left, the ambassador and his daughter continued to thank us.  We were presented with three potions- Remove Curse, +3 Weapon Enhancement, and Heroism- along with some delicious and juicy oranges.  As a final gesture, Bacauda offered me a copy of the  Logotheum, the holy book of Logos.  I will study it and learn what I can.  Perhaps it will shed some light on how the humans, among others, have become such a powerful force in this world, supplanting the vast and ancient Kulkan Empire.

Sated and ready to face our next challenge, we departed to find horses for our journey to the island’s opposite shore and the intriguing Festival of Nott.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*DM's Note:* Keith (playing Andreas and his cohort, Dario) found a job just before this adventure so, we had Sir Narses ask Andreas and Dario to bear tidings of the twarted attack on Jormunsteinn to the Iconians officials in Ephesium. He took a lock of Gudlag's hair to later scry the group and attempt to rejoin them (assuming his job schedule allowed.)  

So now I was down to running a game with basically a rogue, a druid and a shaman. It was going to make figuring EL's a little tricky...

*FYI: Adobe pdf of city notes: *Haradrak (279 kb)


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## Old One (Nov 24, 2003)

*Cool...*

Wayne,

Glad to see you and the crew are back...

I am about 1/2 way through all the updates, but just wanted to skip to the end and say welcome back!

~ Old One


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## CleverName (Nov 24, 2003)

Old One said:
			
		

> Wayne,
> 
> Glad to see you and the crew are back...
> 
> ...




Thanks, Old One ! 

[...furiously knocking on wood...]


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## CleverName (Nov 24, 2003)

*Adventure 12*

Koob Konspiracy
_Malcomb of the Vacomagi _(Remi Truer)


A bloodlusting Rogulkan is charging me. I’m surprised, but I’m not surprised, know what I’m saying? I avoid his attack and dismount my horse, I see that his little gnome friend is taking on Gudlag, whose horse does a good job of knocking her about. Hm, guess I should start at the beginning . . .

We’d saved Haradroc from a bunch of fishy-frog-guys (I wrote a song about it somewhere, what were the words, again? Never mind), Sahuaguin or something. The Eorl suggested we check out some local culture, specifically a festival of Nott in some godforsaken little Dwarf fishing village called Adaroth. Still, a party’s a party, so we, Gudlag, Kopoc, and I, headed out there to see if we could rest a little before getting back to more serious undertakings.

The trip was pretty dull. I mean, yeah, there’s some pretty breathtaking 200 foot drops to the sea and what have you, but their buildings have so little style, no color, no . . . verve. We get near Adaroth, pass through a small surrounding forest and . . . well, there’s no nice way to say this but it’s a pit. Sure, there’s a big dais and some votive images of Nott (lots of chariots being pulled by goats), but overall it’s just a grubby little village. We see a dwarf bossing folks around, turns out he’s the Sheriff, and he directs us to an Inn with a hand with too few fingers. We talked our way into the room, and as drab as the town of Adaroth was, the Inn was not. It was loud, and there were all sorts of weirdoes hanging around.

There was a purple guy with tusks and fine robes, there was a blue skinned fellow doing tricks for children, a Cimbri in robes, probably another sorceror, a gnome sorceror (whom Gudlag pointed out had runic tatoos for Loki on her face), and, most obviously, a very loudly complaining orc. He shouted something about ‘Going back and killing them’ to his companions, a gnome, a dwarf, and a calm-looking Losalfar who seemed to be in charge. Gudlag sent Hal the Rat over, because we’re nosy that way.

They were talking about stone giants, but Hal couldn’t really ascertain any more As reward he got to swim in the lutefisk that the Inn sold. I can’t stomach the stuff, so his little show didn’t really affect my feelings about lutefisk one way or the other. It’s a food fit for rat bathing. The part of four across the room had quieted down, and so we got down to the business of finding out what was going on in town. Turns out that there was going to be three contests. The main was Koob, a throwing game that’s apparently very popular. There would also be a blind fighting competition and a sorcery competition. Prizes and honor are great, but we asked the Innkeeper if he had any information on Stone Giants, that’s where our heads were at. 

He said he didn’t know much, but that Thusolo 6-finger, the Sheriff might know something, as might his mother, a mystic of some type who lives in a cave outside of town. Serious business done, we haggled about a renting a Koob set from the innkeep, intent on practicing before the competition. It’s not a terribly hard game, we’re gonna kick some ass come the competition.

After practicing we talked to the Sheriff, he didn’t know anything. The old woman in the cave was amusing, and Gudlag seemed to enjoy whatever smokable was in the pipe she offered, but other than confirming that, yes, there were Stone Giants around, it wasn’t a terribly productive meeting.

Once we came, blinking out into the sun, Gudlag decided to take a scout around, as an eagle, and Copoc and I headed back to the Inn.  There we saw the Gnome who had been with that loud Rogulkan earlier. An idea popped into my head. “Copoc, I’m going to pretend I’m intoxicated,” I said, and threw my arm around the lizardman and began to stagger. Copoc held me up, and we stumbled into the room.

“Woo! That was some strong stuff, eh, Copoc?” I exclaimed. The gnome’s head shot up. “What kind of stuff?” she asked.

“Some kind of pipeweed,” I replied, “There’s this old woman in a cave we went to visit, very nice, shared with us and everything! Wheeeeee!”

It worked, she started talking to us. Turns out her name was Gen, the Rogulkan’s name was Varic, the Losalfar was Haken, and the dwarf was Mert. Gen looked Copoc and I over and said that there might be some work for us, if we were interested, and to talk to Haken about it. She then sped off in the direction of the cave to, I assume, acquire some of the old woman’s smokables.

Gudlag returned, but had not managed to find the Stone Giants. We quickly discussed our plan of action, and settled on a bit of subterfuge. We sent Hal ahead to the room where Gen’s crew was staying, just so I’d know what I’d be walking in to. Hal reported Haken, Varic, and Mert were all there, arguing about something (apparently Varic had peed in someone’s boot). I quaffed a potion of Glibness and walked over to their room. When I knocked, the argument abruptly ended, and Haken answered the door. “Gen sent me, she said I should talk to Varic about work,” I said.

“I’m in charge,” said Haken, unamused.

“Look, me and my friends could seriously help you out with your little giant problem, but we were told to talk to Varic, and that’s who my friends want to deal with.”

We went back and forth, but I could see that Haken really, really needed the help with these giants. He finally acquiesced to my demand, and I took Varic with down to the common room to meet with Copoc and Gudlag.

I noticed, above Varic’s head, a shimmering patch of air. I tossed a stone at it, but to no avail, it remained. Guess these guys didn’t trust their Rogulkan comrade. We set to questioning Varic. They had been searching for something in the woods when they were set upon by a couple of Stone Giants. The Giants were small, and Varic and his party managed to run them off. Varic mentioned that there were some kids there, and, “Just as I was about to put the boot to them,” the big Giants showed up, killed one of their horses, and ran the party off. Now they were looking for help to kill the giants. We asked what they were looking for, Varic started to answer, but was interrupted by the thump of men coming down the stairs. Mert and Haken rushed into the room, and managed to quiet Varic before he blurted anything out.

Haken informed us that, yes, they were indeed attacked by the Giants, and they were looking for help.

“What were you looking for in the mountains?” Gudlag asked, “We need to know everything if we’re going to work with you.”

It went back and forth, and finally Haken acquiesced. He hurried us outside, looking around for unseen spies. When he had us out of earshot of anyone, he told us that they were looking for the tomb of an old Gnome sorcerer, inside of which was a reservoir of Wyrd. Wyrd is basically a liquid form of ‘free spells’ for Sorcerers which allows them to cast any spell they know without depleting their daily supply. Haken made it clear that he was hiring us to help get past the Stone Giants, and that he expected us to the leave the tomb to him and his party. We agreed, as long as we got the loot from the Stone Giants, convinced as we were that they were mindless killers.

At that point, a Druid from a nearby town came running by. Apparently some plague had struck the town, and he was looking for Adaroth’s Druid to help out with containing the spread of the disease. The Druid had promised to oversee the Sorcery contest, and seeing Haken (who had already been asked to be a judge) talking to Gudlag, the Druid asked Gudlag to take over for him. Gudlag accepted, and the Druid ran out of town.

The plague was carried in blood, and killed by creating large, open, bloody sores all over a person or creature’s body (the plague had apparently first struck the town’s cows). It sounded like a messy and unpleasant way to die, simultaneously, slowly, bleeding out and rupturing from within. Haken wanted to use this plague to weaken the Giants. Gudlag, Copoc and I voiced concerns that the plague might spread if we poisoned their water supply, but Haken assured us everything would be fine, and sent Mert and Varic out to get a haunch of infected meat. Varic was equipped with a Periapt of Health borrowed from Haken, and he also had a large, sealed waterskin to transport the infected meat to its intended targets.

This made up my mind. I had gone from disliking to deeply distrusting Haken. He was endangering an entire village, and possibly more, for his greed. Even if it was a stinkhole village with no pizazz, lack of fashion sense is no reason to be killed by irresponsible sorcerers on a power kick. I suggested that we attack Mert and Varic as they returned to Adaroth with their poisonous cargo, but Gudlag and Copoc wanted to wait and see if we could understand their true purpose in all this. So Gudlag, in the form an eagle, followed Varic and Mert as they headed toward the plague town. As we left the common room, where we had discussed this course of action, I noticed Gen hiding behind a table, trying to listen in. I don’t believe she could hear us, but it made me a little nervous.

Gudlag did not return until late that night. Things had taken a strange turn. He told us that he had seen Mert and Varic, after they had retrieved the plague meat, steal into the Giant’s camp, and drop some of the vile beef into the Giant’s water barrel. When they had left, Gudlag took a chance and approached the Giants, trusting in his skills, spells, and innate toughness to get him out of there if the situation got ugly. He told the Giant’s leader that their water was poisoned, and that he and his friends would help the Giants fight their poisoners. When faced with the piece of meat in their water, the Giants agreed to help us, but only if Gudlag presented Copoc and I in a day’s time to help the infected Giants. The Giants also revealed that they were looking for a deposit, said to be in the area, of a substance that blocked the aura of magic. This substance could be used to create magical gear that would not appear magical, a truly great treasure. Gudlag opined that perhaps this deposit had something to do with the placement of the Wyrd, and agreed that if we found the Wyrd, and this substance was there, we would leave it for the Giants.

Gudlag had also seen Varic bury the rest of the infected meat in the ground near the camp, in case something went wrong. A flamestrike later and Gudlag headed back to tell us what had happened. Gudlag saw, on his way back, that Mert and Varic had a camp in the woods outside of town.

After hearing this story, we resolved to meet the Giants as soon as possible. Copoc and I walked out of town a ways and then Copoc flew us to the Giants, while Gudlag flew ahead to make sure we’d be welcomed. We meeting with the Giants was fairly quick. I didn’t have much to add, because it was mostly talk about healing the giants in case they got sick, strictly Gudlag and Copoc’s area of expertise. They cured who they could, and vowed to have enough spells to cure the rest of the Giants the next day (there were 12 or 13 of them, of all ages). We agreed to ride with Haken and his party, but when they attacked the Giants, we would turn on Haken’s group, and drive them off or kill them. We left the Giants, and made plans of our own. We hoped to catch at least a few of them checking on the Giants health, and so Copoc and I camped out in the woods, hidden, in hopes of an ambush. Gudlag headed back to sleep in our room.

The next day was fairly uneventful. Copoc flew us back to Adaroth under the last cover of night, and we all passed out from exhaustion. Hal, whom we had left to spy on Haken’s room before we left, had nothing to report. I slept while Gudlag and Copoc returned to the Giants to finish curing their affliction. When they returned, it was almost night, almost time for the festival.

I have to admit, Copoc may be a freakish lizardman who hails from a strange land beyond my experience, but he is one hell of a Koob player. He singlehandedly won us the Koob championship, and did it without breaking a sweat. I entered the blindfighting contest, and after easily besting my first opponent, I went toe-to-toe with the purple Rogulkan, and lost in a real heartbreaker of a duel. He was a truly valiant foe. The last competition was the Sorcery competition. It was your usual display of wizardly flash. Fireballs, disintegration, that sort of thing. 

After the festivities, Haken said we should ride for the Giants, take them by surprise. I was a little surprised by this myself, but didn’t see how we could turn Haken down without arousing more suspicion. He claimed that Varic and Gen would meet us at their camp in the woods, and so we set out. The forest was dark, and as I squinted through the inky blackness, I thought I heard a twig snap. Suddenly, out of the brush, Varic leapt at me, bellowing, his Rogulkan face twisted in rage. Gen ran towards Gudlag, and Mert dismounted and leapt towards the Druid as well. They had really and truly gotten the drop on us, not that it was terribly surprising. One of them had probably seen Gudlag flying in and out of our room’s window, and Gen had tried to overhear us talking in the common room while we planned what to do about following Mert and Varic, so it was probably her. No time to think about that now! There was a battle to be won!

I faced off with Varic, each of us trading savage blows. I concentrated on him so thoroughly, that I barely noticed when Copoc was set upon by wolves, or that Gudlag was in a spot of trouble. They were clearly trying to kill Gudlag first. Being a Druid his word would have been their death in town, and Haken and his crew couldn’t risk that. My greataxe sang, and buried itself deep in Varic’s flesh again and again. Finally he looked like he had been wounded to horribly to stand, but still his rage pressed him on. I landed a final blow, tearing his chest asunder, and as he dropped, I ran to help Gudlag, who looked to have taken heavy damage. A blow from Mert had dazed him slightly, and it looked as if he would not be able to cast a spell against Haken, who had teleported into a copse of trees away from the road, and was hurling lightning bolts into the fray. I whispered to the Gods of luck, and Gudlag straightened, and fired a tremendous gout of flame towards the trees, followed quickly by a  localized ice storm.

Copoc finished off the wolves, but Mert managed to drop me with a swift blow from his axe. I was almost unconscious, but a few seconds later I heard both Gen and Mert fall along with their allies, and I was quickly brought back to health by Copoc’s wand of healing. We looked over the grim sight of the battlefield, and knew we had been lucky to survive this. Both Copoc and Gudlag’s spells had been depleted badly while healing the Giants, and it was our potent combination of luck and skill that had gotten us through the battle. We searched their bodies, and headed towards the Giant’s camp. They thanked us for helping them, and revealed that they had found a door, unseen on previous explorations, in the cliffs near their camp. We set out to explore this door, and hopefully find the fantastic treasures that Haken had been willing to kill a good and honorable, if extremely large, people for.


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## CleverName (Nov 24, 2003)

*Adventure 13*

Gnomeward Bound
_Continuing the journal of Gudlaug Hamarson_ (Jon Hanna)

We made a brief stay with the Stone giants, during which time we cured the rest of their tribe of the disease that had infected them.  Copoc and I also healed the wounds the party had taken in our battle with Haken’s group of treacherous adventurers.  A day or so later we made our way to the crack in the mountain that the Stone giant chief had told us about, accompanied by a few giant guards.  We were to give any and all of the magic masking crystal that we might come across to these giants.  Of course, we were most interested in obtaining the Wyrd that was supposedly hidden inside.  Malcolm and I agreed that if we could get our hands on the Wyrd, it would be an invaluable item with which to bargain with the Cimbri queen of Vacomagus.

Malcolm, Copoc and I entered the entryway early in the morning.  After traveling eastward down a corridor for about 60 feet, we came to a chamber with a marble statue of a Gnome standing on a tall pedestal.  The pedestal radiated magic, so we decided to give it a wide berth.  The statue was obviously of the gnome sorcerer, Harseth, that Haken had told us was buried here.  He was the owner of the Wyrd that Haken was so intent upon obtaining.   Harseth had died about a hundred years ago, and this was crypt.  Why a gnome sorcerer wanted to be buried on Jormunsteinn is a mystery.  Well, maybe it’s not all that mysterious.  The magic shielding effects of the crystal that is said to be found here was probably the reason.  Harseth probably figured that it would keep adventurous types from finding his tomb and raiding it.  

I guess that plan went to Hel didn’t it?

Copoc and I stayed back while Malcolm searched the area for traps.  There were hallways leading in opposite directions from the room with the pedestal.  Malcolm started carefully checking the passage, which led to the north.  Well, he indeed did discover a trap, as a huge barrel-shaped stone came flying down the hall at tremendous speed.  Malcolm dodged, so the stone kept on coming towards Copoc and I.  We were bowled over, and the stone struck the magical pedestal in the room behind us.  The stone was disintegrated as it struck the pedestal.  Now we knew what the magic effect had been!  Malcolm told us that another magic effect had been triggered when the stone had brushed against him as it rolled down the hall.  Apparently it had an effect that would turn a victim into stone.  Then the barrel would then shatter him into dust.  Nasty stuff.   We heard a noise coming from the direction where the barrel had come from.  It sounded like another stone barrel was being automatically reloaded into the trap.  Malcolm quickly managed to wedge the trigger for the trap safely while we passed.  

We turned into an east leading passage.  I stayed back while Malcolm and Copoc went forward.  They entered a room that was apparently the crypt.  There was a stone coffin that had been opened and searched through, apparently years before.  It looked like someone had beaten us to the crypt and had already despoiled it.  While I guarded in the hall, the others looked around for any secret doors, but found none.  We decided to go back the way we had come and go down the southward passage from the room with the statue of Harseth.

As we started down that passage, we heard a heavy scraping sound echoing towards us.  Much to our surprise and discomfort, a stone golem was coming our way.  Harseth, apparently being a vain little gnome, had fashioned the 10-foot tall golem in his own likeness.  There’s nothing quite like being attacked by a giant stone yard gnome.  This fight was brutally tough.  Not knowing what else to do, I cast _Stone to Mud_ on the golem.  This apparently slowed him up a bit.  Copoc readied his war club, while Malcolm jumped up to trade blows with the creature.  This was a mistake.  The golem was incredibly tough.  I’ll have to study up on them in case I ever run into one again.  It sucked up a lot of damage and seemingly shrugged it off, while it was dealing horrific damage to Malcolm.  Copoc and I tried to help, but we quickly found that our efforts were pretty useless.  The golem dealt a crippling blow to Malcolm, which knocked him unconscious.  In desperation I called forth a dire bear in the hallway behind the golem, and had it attack.  Copoc healed Malcolm back to consciousness. Unfortunately when Malcolm tried to stand, the golem dealt him such a tremendous blow, that Copoc and I were splattered with his teeth, blood, and brains.  His lifeless corpse lay in a pile at our feet.

“By the great spirit,” Copoc blurted, “He snuffed Malcolm!”

“Let’s get the F*** out of here!” I bravely responded

While the bear and the golem were grappling, we drug Malcolm’s body out of the crypt, out to the ledge on the mountainside.  Copoc and I left it there and went back in.  Malcolm had done a lot of damage to the golem, and the bear was continuing the onslaught.  I summoned up 2 dire wolfs to help, and eventually the golem was destroyed.  It had beaten the dire bear bloody, but it was finally gone.  Copoc and I went back out to deal with Malcolm’s body...

Luckily, I had a scroll of reincarnation.  I set about casting the spell.  When I asked Malcolm’s spirit if he wanted to come back, he hemmed and hawed a little, but eventually agreed.  You never know what you’ll return as when you get reincarnated, so Copoc and I were interested in seeing just what Malcolm would be  -- wouldn't a gnome be ironic? 

As his body was reforming, it looked for a second like it had an Alfar shape, but it changed into a true Cimbri form as it finalized.  Malcolm looked like a fairly nondescript, non-tattooed Cimbri.  He was somewhat disgruntled at having been killed, but all in all, it could have been a lot worse.  We decided to sleep the night and return to the crypt the next day.

The following morning, we went back in and continued down the hall where the golem had killed Malcolm.  He didn’t look happy when he saw the smeared blood on the floor.  We kept going down the hall and entered a library.  There were many books and scrolls kept behind glass on shelves there.  There was also another statue of that frigging gnome Harseth.  We eventually discovered that there was poison behind the glass that would flow out if the glass were broken.  

We all thought that there had to be something we were missing, because as far as we knew we had searched the entire crypt by this point.  We started looking for secret doors, but couldn’t find anything.  I said we should go back and check the crypt room one more time, because it seemed suspicious.  We went back in, and this time I came in with the others.  Well, I discovered that the room was actually under an illusion.  My being a druidical dwarf with enough smarts to not be fooled by such things allowed me to see through it instantly.  I saw that the room was actually larger than the others had found it yesterday, and there were passageway leading from it to the east and south.  The stone coffin that looked like it had been despoiled was obviously a ruse to discourage people like us.  We went down the eastward passage, and after dealing with another illusion that made the door at the end appear inoperable, we finally made it into the real crypt room.  After some searching, we found Harseth’s robes, which appear to be very powerful, as well as some wands and scrolls and such.  We also found a Ring of Protection that we gave to Copoc immediately.  As of this point, we had found a good but of loot, but not the thing we were here to find.  

We had not found the Wyrd.

We started down the south leading passageway, and I detected a great deal of magical effects there.  It seems as if there were 5 different magical runes on the wall of the passage leading to a door at the end.  The first was a Rune of Death.  Yow!  I managed to dispel it, after some effort.  We decided that since there was no real rush that wee were dealing with, that we would take as many days as it took to dispel the runes as we went down the hall.   Over the course of the next two days, I dispelled a Rune of pain, a Rune of Insanity, a Rune of Fear, and lastly, another Rune of Death.  Finally, on the door at the end of the hall was an Arcane lock spell, which I also dispelled.

We entered a cavern that glittered with a strange crystal.  We knew we were in the right place.  All of our magical effects worked in the cavern, but you couldn’t detect them.  Very powerful stuff.  In the center of the cavern was a small pool of liquid.  It did not radiate magic, but it glowed with a blue light.  This was obviously the Wyrd.  None of us three could get any use from it, but to a Sorcerer, this stuff is priceless.  We retrieved a small cask from our camping supplies and ladled the Wyrd into it.  Once the cask was full, we plugged it up and stuck it in my magical haversack, which is really quite handy.  

Finally we were done being grave robbers, and we could get to tracking down these Yuan-ti creatures that the others had told me about.  We decided that we would bring a cart from the village up here, and cart away all the books and scrolls back to Haradrak to sell…


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## CleverName (Nov 26, 2003)

*Adventure 14*

Swimming with Oozes

_by Copoc Kitzam, Kulkan Shaman_ (David Nickerson)

	After pillaging Harseth’s lair and bottling the Wyrd we made our way back to the village to relate the tale of Haken’s sinister plot.  We were cleared of any suspicions and before long returned to Haradrak where we sold the many useless baubles we had gathered.  Soon we were dripping with gold and eager to spend our newfound wealth.  We rested for several days while items were crafted to meet our specifications.  I had the magical enchantment suffused within my great club enhanced and Yax Che Mal was well pleased.  Soon an unsuspecting foe shall know his wrath!  

I also acquired a Bead of Force and an Earth Elemental Gem.  Malcolm and I both purchased Amulets of Health and he went on to be fitted for a gleaming new belt.  Gudlaug procured some trinkets as well, but I can’t recall what they were.  The numerous stone spirits drifting through Haradrak intrigued me, but they were mere wisps.  I have failed repeatedly in my attempts to contact the mountainous spirit of Jormunsteinn.  Perhaps more research is required.  My spirit entourage has grown steadily, but I feel confident in my ability to command more powerful spirits still.  When preparations are complete I will attempt to contact Gondoc, the greatest Kulkan warrior to ever crack the egg, friend to shamans of legend, and destroyer of the Black Nest!

	Time passed and we licked our wounds.  We received news of a huge conflagration in Kostelna, with much rioting and many deaths.  This news was quite satisfying.  After leaving word of our destination for absent comrades, we set sail for Vacomagus, intending to present the cask of Wyrd to Queen Nighean (na VAUHN)) and ask her favor in our upcoming battle.  Malcolm claimed to have “been in her presence” and assured me that she would not employ the Wyrd for evil ends.  We talked much on our journey, reviewing what we had learned and building our case.  We would warn Nighean of the nefarious Black Kulkans and their alliance with the Yuan-Ti, a race of shapeshifters and snakes, hypnotists that could cause fear and command dark spirits.  They were in league with demons and the Three Mothers, and more importantly they had possibly infiltrated Cimbri lands.  We had written proof of an alchemist named Krace hiding among the Saluri.  He had a viable formula to create the dreaded demon’s breath, a deadly drug with devastating effects that we had witnessed first hand.  Our case was tight and we felt confident.  We charted the most efficient route to Vacomagus and planned for a relaxing voyage. 

	Nothing ever goes as planned, and this became apparent once more at 3:00 AM during Gudlaug’s watch.  He spotted a floating corpse and several bits of wood banging into White Dragon.  He shook me and Malcolm and we then hooked the body and reeled it in.  Luckily White Dragon awoke in time to vault into the sky and avoid a collision with an old Iconian merchant ship.  Upon close inspection we could see that the ship was slimy and covered with black mold.  It was listing and appeared to be rotten, reeking of dead bodies.  Seaweed entangled the ropes and lines as if it had recently surfaced from an extended submersion.  Even more strangely, an Iconian war galley was protruding from the merchant vessel.

	Suddenly the light dawned.  This was a Three Mother’s Zombie Ship!!!  We immediately rolled the corpse off of White Dragon’s deck.  Gudlaug flew closer in owl shape to _detect magic_.  He was quite successful as the entire ship radiated magic, but a very strong emanation also came from a book placed near the wheel.  Gudlaug detected movement within as well, and this prompted him to cast _greater dispel magic_ on the listing vessel.  Millions upon millions of worms began pouring out of cracks and holes in the wood, causing the ship to list even more and subsequently drawing hordes of skeletons from the hold.  A wraith-like figure also made its presence known, shouting something in a language unfamiliar to me.  I would later learn that it had commanded the skeletons to take the book.  Perhaps sensing the most immediate threat, the wraith raced toward Gudlaug.  White Dragon blasted it with a _cone of cold_ and then became invisible, moving closer to the loathsome vessel.  As the skeletons continued to emerge and congregate on the slippery deck, I called upon the great Xmukane Kan to _haste_ Malcolm and fortify my natural defenses with the strength of _stoneskin_.  One of the skeletons lunged for the mystical tome and quickly slipped down into the sea.  Malcolm and I jumped into the fray and Yax Che Mal bolstered my club with his fury.  Malcolm, however, was most impressive, tearing into the skeletons and dispatching two or three to my every one.  After a brief battle above, Gudlaug finished the wraith fiend with a vicious _flame strike_.  To my amazement he then morphed into a porpoise, diving deep and giving chase to the descending dead.  I will certainly have to find out which spirits this druid has befriended!

	Malcolm and I continued to smash skeletons, wondering if we should follow Gudlaug into the sea.  Just as we vanquished the last of our foes our comrade surfaced, dripping blood and a glistening, bubbling ooze.  He was smiling however, and holding the tome that had nearly slipped through our fingers.  He related how an inky cloud had enveloped him, soon to be followed by poisonous, acidic tendrils.  This aquatic ooze surely would have taken his life had he not transformed himself into an octopus to escape its suffocating grasp and then _polymorphed_ the creature into a tiny, harmless gold fish.  After that, recovering the book from the lone skeleton had been a simple task.

Following a brief rest we searched the hold of the zombie ship.  We located several chests that contained a sum of 5000 gold pieces.  We also stumbled upon a larder of recruit bodies patiently waiting for an opportunity to man one of the Three Mother’s vessels.  We knew that the ship must be destroyed.  A _flame strike_ from Gudlaug proved unsuccessful, so White Dragon suggested that she might be able to tow the hulks apart.  This worked like a charm and both ships sank into the murky depths.

The tome was written in Rolgulkan (big surprise) and in fact harbored a secret compartment.  The spirits were generous, as Malcolm was able to discover a poisoned needle trap without having to suffer its consequnces.  The compartment contained a pitch black sail covered with twinkling star patterns.  We wondered if this may be a magical means for the Three Mothers ships to travel through the Shadow Plane.  Deciphering the script proved this to be true, but also mentioned some sort of draining of some sort of essence.  This revelation caused us pause.  White Dragon agreed to help test it, and also asked to retain the sail if it functions as suspected.

	I retired to my quarters as we continued our voyage, recounting the events of the day and wondering what I might have done to aid our party more.  We had all had some close calls recently-some of us closer than others-and I felt that I had not made use of the spirits to the full extent of their might.  I was, however, feeling closer to Kanul Yat Balam.  At that moment he showed me a way to gain some of his powers for an unlimited duration.  He recited a spell and suddenly I saw my various magical items in a new light.  Not only was my great club anchoring the menacing fists of Yax Che Mal, it was now awash in a magical aura all its own.  Kanul Yat Balam performed another incantation and I immediately knew that this ability to detect magic was permanent.  I felt strangely weakened, but remained hopeful that this vision might prove helpful on some future quest.  Until I can contact the great warrior Gondoc I will be content to do the best I can and listen constantly for direction from Kanul Yat Balam, First of the Kulkans and Master of Spirits.  

Off to Vacomagus!

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*DM Notes:

FYI: Adobe pdf of city notes: *Vacomagus (247 kb)


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## CleverName (Nov 26, 2003)

Just a bump to let you know I added links to some player handouts on adventures 11 and 14. 

While I'm at it: 

* Adobe pdf of the campaign map: *Skia Thalassa (180 kb) 



Happy Thanksgiving.


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## CleverName (Dec 1, 2003)

*New PC*

Kuldar Goldenaxe
(Paul Grenier)


Kuldar is a forge champion, a huscarl for Jarl Geirolf Diamondeyes. He protects a "surface hearth" from enemies. When space underground is tight or a clan wants to expand beyond their allowable limits underground, they build a forge on the surface, often away from Alfar lands. Although vulnerable, there is less competition for resources and all of the fae races value dekkalfar miners and smiths.

Kuldar’s clan operates several of the surface hearths in Cimbri lands – while they often have fine resources, the Cimbri are indifferent miners. Kuldar began as a mere woodsmen for the forge near the town of Trier in Vacomagi lands. His main job was to collect wood (an inferior fuel source to coal) to fuel the fires in their forge.

A giant attacked the forge one day and slew the champion, but Kuldar stood his ground and slew it. Geirolf made Kuldar more than a woodsman — he became the new champion.  He demonstrated the power of axes over hammers (the favored weapon of his folk due to the years of mining and crafting) when dealing with the flesh of giants.  His magical axe was a gift for him from his forgemaster, in thanks for his service.  While cooling the steel in the mountain waters, mineral deposits gave the axe a golden hue that has not been duplicated since – hence his nickname.

Most recently, Kuldar has been under the employ of the Vacomagi queen, Nighean. While protecting a convoy of weapons to Vacomagus (the capital of the Vacomagi), the forgemaster, a master craftsman of axes, was kidnapped in a raid and all of the forges remaining wares were taken.  The forge has been shut down temporarily until the forgemaster can be found and the culprits have been dealt with.

At first, it seemed that the Brigantes had captured the forgemaster and taken his wonderful axes to further their war effort against the Silures. At least that was Kuldar's assumption.  However, the Vacomagi queen has convinced him that it may be the Silures who have captured the forgemaster in an effort to drag the Vagomagi into the battle on their side. 

The queen has an interest in restoring the forge to working order as much as Kuldar.  The forge represents a valuable resource that the Vacomagi use to equip their forces as well as generate tax revenues from its exports. So, Kuldar has agreed to work closely with the queen in an attempt to set things right.  


*DM NOTE:* Kuldar is a 8th level fighter, 3rd level Dwarven Defender. Paul will only be joining the game for a short time, but he will be writing up the next adventure.


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## CleverName (Dec 1, 2003)

*Oops*

Double post removed.


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## CleverName (Dec 1, 2003)

*Adventure 15: Part I*

Axes and More Axes
(Paul Grenier)

_5th Day of Iron, 12th year of Diamondeyes Reign_

*To Great Jarl Geirolf Diamondeyes and members of the Thing*


After spending several weeks in the court of the Vacomagi queen Nighean, I have finally begun my search for the lost forge master in earnest. I now have a better understanding of who may be capable of this treachery and who would have the motivation for such actions against your forge.  In the meantime, the remaining workers and apprentices have been given leave in the city of Vacomagus.  The property that survived the raid has been stored away.

It seems that my original assumptions about the Brigantes were incorrect.  Although they are fond of our axes, their current surplus of freshly minted Iconian gold leads me to believe that if they wanted our wares they would have simply bought them.  I now think that it is the desperate actions of the Silures tribe who have either sacked the forge for their own gain, to stop the Brigantes from further arming themselves, or merely as a ploy to get the Vacomagi to enter their upcoming war with the Brigantes by blaming this treachery on their enemies.

However, the queen is more astute than her rivals give her credit for, and with her help, I am in route to the Silures region to find out more for our clan.  I have been grouped with three companions who seek the Nothrok tribe in connection with the production of the Demon’s Breath potion, a fellow dekkalfar and druid, Gudlag; a Cimbri from the Vacomagi named Malcomb; and a Kulkan, a shaman named Copoc.  

It seems that this band of adventurers was responsible for the riots in that cesspool that passes for a Rolgulkan city, Kostelna, a few months past. They brought tales to Nighean of a threat from the East, creatures called the Yuan-ti. The yuan-ti are a serpent folk who consort with demons, shapeshift, and play with other’s minds. These serpents were behind the distribution of the Deamon’s Breath from Kostelna and have insinuated themselves with the Three Mothers. Furthermore, they had evidence that they had infiltrated the Silures, but little more than that. 

They presented Nighean with a cask of Wyrd — a potent form of socerous magic, of which I know little, and asked her aid in the matter. Nighean pointed out that she could do little, openly, at the eve of war between the Silures and Brigantes Cimbri tribes, without provoking one side or the other. She called forth the ambassador from the Silures and “requested” that the Silures look into the matter of these Yuan-ti. She also publicly commanded Malcomb to attempt to capture one of these creatures – suggesting that he and his go back to Kostelna to do so, telling them that if they brought her one she might be able to concoct some sorcery to discern them magically.

After the Silures ambassador left her court, the queen asked me to go with the trio to look into the matter (and possibly aid in my own investigations into the fate of the forge master). She also privately pointed us towards a lesser Cimbri tribe in the lands of the Silures, the Nathrach, a Cimbri people said to have garnered much wisdom in the arts of healing from a relationship with a race of giant, rams-horned serpents. To aid us in this secret investigation into Silures territory she gave us each a hat of disguise and a magical necklace of silver said to prevent shapeshifting. Furthermore she granted us the privilege of using the Ley, the magical road that encircles Vacomagus for the duration of this mission. Malcom and her conferred and planned to pick me up on board their ship near a shoal off the island to further throw off any hint of our intentions.

If indeed the Silures and/or Nathrach are in league with the producers of Demon’s Breath, and guilty of the treachery against the forge, it may be time to pay them a visit with a few battle-crazed brute squads!

This much is for certain: war in the north is eminent.  It appears that the Brigantes are undeterred by the Vacomagi’s attempts to dissuade confrontation with the Silures.  My main question is “Why would the Brigantes attack the Silures?”  They do not have a border dispute, what would they gain?  Unless the Iconians are behind this war, and have something to gain by the destruction of the Silures, I think the threat to the North may be larger than just the aggressive Brigantes tribe, and the Vacomagi had best be wary. Gudlag seems to think that warfare between Cimbri tribes is as natural as mining is to our people. 

If the Brigantes have an alliance with the Iconians, their plan would most likely be to destroy the Silures then turn on the Vacomagi from both sides.  This will only be possible with the naval support of the Iconians.  If we wish our trade union with the Vacomagi to remain in tact, we’ll need to keep informed about Iconian naval movements and locations of mercenary forces near the Cimbi tribes.

Conversely, if somehow these demons we seek in the Nothrok tribe are at the source of the Cimbri tensions, then the entire conflict in the north would merely be a ruse to keep attentions away from their activities and create a market for the Demon’s Breath potions.  If that’s the case, I may find our precious forgemaster slaving away in a demon’s den.  It’s possible that the Iconian coin isn’t Iconian after all, but rather a clever counterfeit to hide the true nature of funding for this impending war.

My head swims with all of the possibilities and speculations.  I just don’t have enough information yet to be confident.  I will be moving toward Silures tonight, but I anticipate troop movements from both sides within the month and most borders and roads will be restricted if not closed.  It may be difficult, once I find the forgemaster, to return him quickly depending on who is involved.  Our communication may also become sporadic, but I will make sure you are kept informed at every opportunity.


Your Loyal Servant,

Kuldar Goldenaxe of Clan Reist


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## CleverName (Dec 2, 2003)

*Adventure 15: Part II*

*Travelog of Kuldar Goldenaxe*

My new companions headed out of Vacomagus, using the Ley to travel quickly, and hopefully secretly, towards the docks. I had thought Nighean would send me out on another boat to meet their ship offshore, but the Queen barely gave me time to gather my things and then teleported me onto some barren stone, barely above water! Thank the Allfather that the tides were out. Yet the waves were lapping at my iron-shod boots by the time the others made it to the rendezvous point with their craft. 

By means of some magic that I have sworn not to pass on, we sailed all night towards Medoc, reaching it early on the morning of the next day – an astounding feat, but I was happy to get earth and stone beneath my boots again. 

We headed onshore having landed a few miles to the west of Medoc, with plans to pass ourselves off as slavers in the city as we gathered information about the Nathrach. Rather than mask our race, Malcom, Gudlag and I used the hats of disguise to merely masquerade as slave raiders of our own kind. Copoc warped his visage into that of our sole property, a human slave.

We traveled away from shore and encamped near the road to Medoc. I drew the second watch and was surprised by the emergence of a Rolgukan out of the shadows – a slaver by the look of him. He came right to the point. He and his fellows were planning to sell their goods in Medoc, having heard of a Rolgulkan mercenary unit was nearby and looking for supplies. They, having run across a few poor slavers (us), planned to add our slave to their chain. 

I convinced him to have a battle of champions between our two sides, rather than risk the blood of all for a few slaves. I was surprised when he agreed. He disappeared into the gloom for a moment and came back followed by a troll! 

This was no idiotic, slavering troll, but one bearing weapons and armor – two giantish axes, to be sure – one clutched in each clawed hand. Its black eyes were twisted in delight in the carnage to come. The troll got in the first blows due to its long arms, but as soon as I was able to plant my feet, the creature became enraged in its inability to land a solid blow, it then flew into a berserk fury when I sundered one of the axes it bore, dropping its other weapons and snatching at me with its claws! I bore several wounds, but my ire was resolute and its end was near.

When the other slavers realized their great troll warrior was about to fall to my blows they shot at us from the cover of darkness with their bows. Moreover the cowardly troll retreated to regain its strength. A column of fire from the druid’s fingers, the axework of Malcomb, and the blows from the lizardman’s greatclub soon scattered or killed the rest – save one orc that we took captive. The troll enraged at its burning charged the druid and delt him a few blows. But Malcomb and I were on its heals and it fell. I snatched brands from the fire to make sure it was dead. 

Now all we need do is find the slaver’s chattel and our intended ruse should be complete! We plan to search for them at dawn, after Copoc has healed our wounds and we have a chance to interrogate our prisoner. 

For now, I rest.


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## CleverName (Dec 3, 2003)

A Spiritual Interlude

By Copoc Kitzam (David Nickerson)

My dreams haunted me and I could not sleep.  Premonitions of death will do that to you sometimes.  I gazed at the constellations filling the sky and realized that the stars were aligned and that the seven stars that made up Gondoc’s Greatclub would soon reach their apex.

Hours upon hours I had spent in deep trance, conversing with Kanul Yat Balam and various other entities, gleaning what sparse information I could concerning the history of Gondoc and his legendary manifestations.  Of course he was responsible for defeating the Black King and dispersing our evil brethren long before he entered the Spirit World, but I learned that indeed he had since aided shamans, decisively turning the tide in several epic battles.  Unfortunately, he had gone mysteriously dormant and had thus remained for millennia.  It would be possible, however, to awaken this ancient hero, if the stars were properly aligned and a new evil was gathering.  

I was convinced that what I saw now was no coincidence; the time for summoning Gondoc had finally arrived, even though we had just fallen back into sleep after dealing with the slavers. I hadn’t known Gudlaug for long and had just met Kuldar, but one cannot argue with the sky. The summoning had to take place that very night!  

The ritual required a trip to the Spirit World and a show of faith from those wishing to benefit from Gondoc’s prowess.  To gain his favor, one had to relinquish something held dear.  I studied my great club as it shimmered, anxious and bristling with the fury of Yax Che Mal.  I could not believe that Gondoc, master of battle, would strip his devotees of their very means to wage war.  It would be a show of faith and nothing more.  I just had to convince my comrades.  Also, as is the case in all kulkan warrior rituals, a substantial amount of blood would be expected.  This I would supply myself, and not push my luck with the others.  

Fortunately it was Malcolm’s watch.  I would speak with him first because I had known him the longest and we shared similar seafaring backgrounds.  He had earned my trust and I felt that he trusted me as well.  Also, considering his recent reincarnation, I imagined that it would be relatively easy to convince him that we needed more brute force to ward off attacks...even from gigantic stone gnomes. 

“Malcolm,” I hissed as I approached the vigilant adventurer, “I am plagued with dreams of carnage.  We are soon to enter a veritable meat grinder, powered by black kulkans and yuan-ti and a host of other demonic horrors.  We cannot go this alone.”

“Do your…ahh…spirits tell you this?” inquired Malcolm.

“Yes.  But one need not consult the wise ones to see that this is true.”  I paused for emphasis.  “I can now summon a great kulkan warrior and harness his fighting magics to aid us in our quest, but I will need your assistance.  And I will need the others as well.”

“What would you have us do?”

“Simply trust in the spirits.  Trust in me Malcolm.  Lend me your Greataxe.” I explained what the ritual would entail. 

I shook Gudlaug, all the while being eyed suspiciously by Hal.  Malcolm stood nearby

“Gudlaug, wake up.”

“Mmmmm-wait, Bambi.  Come back,” he muttered sleepily.

“Gudlaug,” I continued shaking him, “It’s me.  Copoc”

Startled, Gudlaug bolted upright.  “Copoc, what’s going on?  What the heck are you doing?  Is it my watch already?”

“Copoc has had a vision,” answered Malcolm.

Gudlaug looked at Malcolm, obviously annoyed to be yanked from his dream.  “I was having a vision too,” he replied, “but you don’t see me bouncing around the camp spreading the joy.”

“Gudlaug, we offer our sincerest apologies, but Gondoc’s Greatclub has reached its apex and I need your assistance,” I tried to explain as Gudlaug rubbed his eyes.

“Gondoc’s Greatclub?!  Listen, I like you and all, but…?”

I related my visions to Gudlaug, my premonitions of certain death if we did not increase our party’s strength.  Then I described how we might accomplish this feat.  Although he was initially reluctant to hand over his warhammer, he could sense my apprehension and seemed relieved to know that the Godoc’s Greatclub” I refered to was a pattern of stars in the sky. Gudlaug knew that matters could get deadly serious very soon and after mentally sizing up our party he agreed to help.  Next would come the hard part.

Gudlaug, Malcolm, and I stood over Kuldar, repeatedly shouting his name.  He had taken first watch, and apparently ended it by consuming his body weight in dwarven ale.  A dekkalfar’s unquenchable thirst was well known even to kulkans, but I was truly amazed by this particular dwarf’s capacity to drink – though he was equally skilled with goblet and axe.

“Wake up Kuldar, we are in deadly danger!”

This apparently did the trick, as Kuldar sprang to his feet, axe in one hand and empty goblet in the other.  He looked around wildly, seeking to locate a suitable target.

“…or soon will be,” I added.

Kuldar glared at me as he moved to refill his goblet.  “What nonsense is this?  I see no danger!  No fiend of the night begging to be cleaved?”

“Kuldar, I have had a vision of our demise.  In order to augment our forces and prevent this from occurring I intend to summon the spirit of Gondoc, the greatest kulkan warrior to ever crack the egg, friend to shamans of old and destroyer of the Black Nest.  I need your cooperation and I would ask to borrow your axe for a short ritual.”  I tried to smile.

Kuldar took an immense swig from his goblet and seemed rather disappointed that he’d spilled the contents in his sleep.  “Are you insane lizard?  No one touches my axe!”

Gudlaug chose to intervene at this moment and somehow seemed to calm his dekkalfar brother  “Kuldar, I haven’t known this shaman for long and I have little understanding of his Spirit World, but he is true to his word and I have found his intentions to be noble.  Time and again he has called upon these spirits and, well, something happens almost every other time.  I believe that his ritual may prove helpful to us.”

Malcolm stepped up to support me as well.  “I trust Copoc, Kuldar, a trust scored through months of fighting side by side, enduring hardships together, almost dying and dying.  If he says that this spirit can aid our cause then I for one believe him.  And he has assured me that no harm will come to our cherished weapons.”

“Is this true lizard?”  demanded Kuldar.

“Yesssss,” I said, silently attempting to run through the ritual in my mind.  I had gathered only bits and pieces, and these summonings were always tricky, but I was confident that the weapons would remain unharmed.  After all, Gondoc was renowned for his appreciation of fine arms as well as his strength in battle.  He was proficient with nearly everything and was always eager to try a new weapon type.  He was then just as eager to prove that this new weapon was no match for claws and teeth.  His collection of weaponry, however, was legendary itself, and I could not imagine that he would damage any piece in a non-combat situation

“Very well,” Kuldar grumbled, “but if I find one scratch on that axe, or one dent that was not made by the bones of one of my more robust enemies, then I’m the one that’s gonna be crackin’ some eggs!”

“Fair enough,” I replied gazing skyward once more,  Let us begin the ritual.”

I gathered our weapons, Malcolm’s greataxe, Gudlaug’s warhammer, Kuldar’s axe, and my greatclub and arranged them in a runic configuration, an ancient kulkan symbol representing the path of the warrior.  I then covered them with copious amounts of skink liver oil and dusted them with bone powder.  

Kuldar did not seem entirely pleased.  

I then began preparing my mind to enter the Spirit World.  My eyes were closed and I began to chant, imploring the great Kanul Yat Balam to lend us his power.  I felt for my jaguar’s paw, my claw blade, clam shell, and crocodile’s tooth.  I arranged my necklace of woven swamp grass and caressed the serrated claw also hanging from my neck.  I did not wish to offend anyone upon entering the Spirit World.  Once confident that I had not misplaced a single vial or packet, carving, or any other talisman that anchored one of my spirit allies, I clasped the wrists of Gudlaug and Malcolm and instructed them to take hold of Kuldar.

“We are about to enter the Spirit World,” I said, “Stay close or risk tumbling back into the material world.  I cannot say where you might arrive if this happens!” 

“What did he say?” shouted Kuldar, “I never agreed to any plane hopping!” 

I was chanting in earnest at this point and the incantation was soon completed. 

I opened my eyes.  I never ceased to be amazed by the beauty of the Spirit World.  Although structurally similar to our own material plane, all the colors were brighter and more alive, as if springing from a new palette, expanded and limitless in their clarity and hue.  Entirely new and amazing shades cascaded over our senses.  I immediately observed that my runic symbol had risen and was levitating at our center.  A bluish orange green flame encircled the weapons, sparking and hissing sporadically  I looked at my comrades.  No longer _spiritblind_, they gasped like newborns, as if someone had removed a blindfold and they were seeing for the first time.  Malcolm was startled suddenly by a swarm of scarlet and indigo hummingbirds and nearly leapt beyond my grasp.  

“Stay within my reach,” I reminded them.

As the birds dispersed Kanul Yat Balam was revealed in all his glory.  He appeared as a tall and weathered kulkan with piercing eyes, wise beyond comprehension.  He wore a huge feathered mane, multi colored and extremely difficult to focus on.  His leather harness was studded with silver and gold and he carried an impressive greatclub embedded with scintillating gems and square, obsidian blades. 

“Greetings Copoc’s allies, noble denizens of the material world.  I see that you have chosen to aid my good shaman in his latest summoning.  You have presented fine weapons, all.  Gondoc reveres such instruments above all else.”  The voice came at once from everywhere and nowhere.

“Are you here to help as well?”  queried Gudlaug, able to speak at last  

“Alas, no,”  replied the voice.  Kanul Yat Balam’s eyes appeared to gaze through us into some other reality.  “It is indeed unfortunate, but I can only observe in matters such as these.  I have assisted Copoc to the utmost of my ability.  Now it is up to you.”

Other entities had gathered around our most unusual exhibit and were keen to observe my comrades and me.  I recognized only a fraction of the spirits present and did not know if they were offering support or merely curious.  Regardless, time was passing and I needed to complete the summoning rites.  I produced a well honed steel knife and cut into my palm.  This obviously surprised both Malcolm and Gudlaug, and Kuldar looked at me as if I had been inhaling swamp gas.  I was perplexed myself when my blood leapt from my hand, drawn toward the pulsating rune as if it were magnetized.  The blood stream remained steady, unbroken, flowing straight into our weapons.  The flames surrounding my construction sizzled and licked greedily.  The rune was now drawing out my blood at an alarming rate.  I called out for Gondoc and he did not respond.  Perhaps my offering was inadequate or incomplete?  Feeling a sudden flash of fear I looked toward Kanul Yat Balam, but he was no longer present.  I tried to calm myself, mentally reconstructing the steps of the ritual.  I could not move my legs and realized that I desperately needed help.  If this ritual did not end soon I would die!  

I glanced at my comrades, who seemed to be frozen in place as well.  They had come to aid me, to receive the blessings of Gondoc and fight the good fight, offering their most valued weapons as a show of faith.  Now they were trapped!  The sky darkened and lightening struck the floating ball of fire, steel, wood, and blood.  I was becoming dizzy as my mad creation continued to suck the blood from my veins.  Kuldar and the others were no doubt becoming extremely concerned.  I could hear their voices but could not make out their words.  For some reason my eyes were drawn to the rune.  Our weapons remained unscathed, centered as they were in the maelstrom of fury.  What had Kanul Yat Balam said?  That Gondoc reveres such instruments above all else?  He would never sacrifice our weapons.  There was never a real risk, never a true show of faith!  Gondoc wanted blood.  *The blood of us all*!

I focused as best I could on Gudlaug and passed along my steel blade.  “He wants blood Gudlaug.  Tell them it’s the only way.”

Gudlaug was apparently able to decipher my croaking.  He cut his palm and then handed the knife to Malcolm, who quickly followed suit.  By the time Kuldar received the blade, the warrior rune was already drawing blood from Gudlaug and Malcolm, in addition to my dwindling supply.  

“I’m not doing this,” he grunted, struggling to break free of the invisible bonds that were holding him in place.  

“Do it now Kuldar,” urged Gudlaug in strangled dekkalfar.  

“Fine.”  He plunged the knife into his palm.

Suddenly there was a blinding explosion.  Intense noise and light surrounded me and penetrated to my very core. 

I now sat upon a grassy knoll, my head still ringing, looking up at the swirling rune constructed from our prized weapons.  Gudlaug, Malcolm, and Kuldar were there as well.  Towering above us was an immense kulkan warrior, at least twelve feet tall and bulging with muscles that strained against the hides of jungle cats and threatened to tear the skins of emerald serpents.  His scales were deep scarlet and his jaws were caked with dried blood and bits of flesh.  He gazed down upon us as if trying to determine his most immediate threat only to discover soon after that one did not exist.  Gradually his eyes settled upon me.

“Shaman!” he boomed.  “Who are you that you would dare to disturb my slumber?” 

“I am Copoc Kitzam, from the shores east of Gelandri.  I have come on behalf of my people to request your aid in vanquishing a great evil that walks heavy upon our land.”

“I know not of this Gelandri.  I have lain in dormancy awaiting the birth of the Chosen and the Ascension of the Kulkans.  Has this prophecy come to pass?  Do Kulkans dwell once more in the Hallowed Halls?”

I was stumped.

“Are you the Gatherer?” he continued, “the Restorer?”  He leaned closer.  “Or perhaps the Instigator?”

“I am unfamiliar with this prophecy oh Great Gondoc.”

“Why, then, have I been awakened?”

Although the flames were now gone, lightening struck once more at the levitating warrior rune.  Thunder rocked the countryside.

“The black kulkans have returned, Gondoc.  And worse still, they are growing in number!  We have fought them tooth and claw with some success but have recently learned a disturbing secret.  They have now acquired a sinister ally!”

“Who would make allies with such a wretched race?”

“The yuan-ti oh Great Gondoc.  Shapeshifters they are, man-snakes that can hypnotize and cause fear and command dark spirits to cast their evil magics.”

“Cause fear?  This seems unlikely.”  Gondoc looked skeptical. “I know these foes. I have picked the flesh from their bones and eaten their hearts. The Yuan-ti are the ones who aided the Black Nest in ages past and brought down our great kingdom. Their evil is deeper than the Black Kulkans, stripling!”

“Help us Gondoc.  Help us to spill the blood of our most ancient foes!”  Gondoc still did not seem convinced and Kuldar’s nostrils began to flare.  I suspected that he would soon need to be restrained so I stepped in front of him.  

“The black kulkans are loose Gondoc, and they have grown bold once more.  They raid our villages, pillaging and plundering and mocking your accomplishments.”  Gondoc furrowed his brow.  Encouraged, I continued my tirade.  “It is even said that some black kulkans believe you never existed, that you are merely a myth used to keep women and very small children in line.  They disparage your name and discredit your legacy!  They…”

“Silence shaman!  We shall make them believe!”

I shivered as the _power walk_ ended and we were returned to the middle world, the world of base matter. 

“Hey, where’s the big guy?” asked Malcolm, though I could see Gondoc still and his fury was tremendous.   “It seemed like he was starting to come around.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured everyone, “The ritual was a complete success.  Gondoc is with us now and we are nigh unstoppable.”

“You call that a success?” grumbled Kuldar or Gudlaug or perhaps both.  I didn’t hear the rest because my mind was focused on the Spirit World and in particular on Gondoc.  I smiled when I thought of the terrible wrath he would now deliver upon those who opposed our cause.  

But I also knew the terrible price I had to pay for his service. My friends were now _spiritblind _again, but I could see Godoc standing nearby as the rest huddled back into their blanket for a few more minutes of rest. 

“Remember our pact Shaman. If you cannot give me the blood of our enemies. I will demand your blood, or the blood of your friends.” Gondoc crossed his massive arms and I saw that the red stains around his mouth were no longer dry, but wet with our blood.


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## CleverName (Dec 4, 2003)

*Adventure 16*

How *Not *to Succeed at the Slave Trade

Continuing the journal of Gudlaug Hamarson (Jon Hanna)



After a night of inadequate sleep, we finally got up.

“So Copoc,” I asked, “Did we accomplish anything during that ritual last night, other than sleep deprivation?”

“Oh yesss.” he replied earnestly, “The spirit of Gondoc stands ready to do battle with the black ones.  You whose eyes are still lidded to the spirit world do not see him, but you may rest assured that he is here.”

“Good.  Well, maybe if he’s just standing around, you could ask him to go get us some breakfast or something.”

“I assume you are making a jest.  Gondoc does not work in the food service industry.  No, he will wait on his hot rock in the spirit world until he is needed.  Then, when I ask him, he will despoil the nests of his enemies, and break the eggs of the unholy!”

As we pondered this, Kuldar reminded us that there were slaves somewhere around there that the troll and his slaver friends had abandoned.  I took to eagle form and soon found the chained-up slaves, shivering in the morning dew.  We came over and discovered that there were a couple of alfar, a cimbri of the brigantes tribe, a human, and some goblins.  We hunted some food to feed them while we discussed what to do.  Kuldar was pleased that these slaves had been dropped in our lap.  This would allow us to continue our ruse as slavers, so that we could travel into the Saluri lands unmolested.  Malcolm was not happy about selling slaves, and wanted to let them go.  I was not really interested in actually selling the slaves, but did think we should take them into Medoc, and then decide what to do at that point.  This is what we did.

We traveled on to Medoc.  As we entered town we heard that there was a Rolgulkan mercenary unit camped in the city.  We moved through town until we saw the encampment.  We were to find out that this was a unit of sappers and night fighters called the “Stonebreakers” They were led by a half ogre named Vycos.  We found lodging at an inn near to the mercenaries called the Hard Hand.  We boarded the slaves in the stables, and went about our business.  We did not intend to stay here for long, but did need to rest for a few days and see if we could find some more clues about the Yuan-ti.

We decided that we would sell the goblins to the Rolgulkans, and bring the other slaves with us to eventually let go.  No one was sympathetic to the goblins, and they themselves expected the worst.  Kuldar and I went to the mercenaries to make the deal for the goblins, and we sold some equipment to a dekkalfar who was trading arms near by.  We also learned from the merchant that some humans were traveling with the Rolgulkans, though they rarely strayed from camp.

In the meantime Malcolm and Copoc set about learning of the situation with the war, and to maybe find out some information regarding the Nathrach, the Saluri tribe that we suspected was in league with the Yuan-ti.  They found out that there had been a healer near the Hard Hand, named Solviss, who was from the Nathrach tribe.  She had been called away about a month ago and had not returned to Medoc.   

While Malcolm was waiting in the bar for us to return, he saw a woman who he recognized named Cryda.  He was upset to see her, because apparently she had been a former shipmate of his who had betrayed them.  He was upset that she was not back in Vacomagus where she was supposed to be serving some type of penance.  Malcolm was wearing a new face now that he had been resurrected, so she seemingly did not recognize him.  He talked to her and seemed as if he was trying to pick her up.  At the same time he hoped to find out what she was doing here.  He gave her a false name while he was doing this.  Apparently Malcolm is not a ladies man.  He was foiled on all of his attempts at gaining anything of use, either information or feminine companionship.  Unfortunately, Copoc started talking to her and gave her his real name, even though he looked human due to the Hat of Disguise.  Eventually Cryda left with another woman, and went upstairs to their room.

Kuldar and I came back and we compared notes.  The stonebreakers would buy our goblins.  They were waiting for the second part of a payment from the Seluris before they marched up and entered the coming war.  Vycos was going to come examine the slaves and buy them, which he did.  We went to the stables to check them out.  He was particularly interested in buying the two Alfar.  He eyed them greedily and licked his big half ogre lips.  We did not sell them to him though, and he was disappointed.  We went back to the inn, and this is where things got interesting.

Cryda came down the stairs and joined us at the table we were sitting at.  She was carrying a bucket with a towel over it.  She asked us if we knew of a man named “Malcolm” and his traveling companions.  We of course denied any such knowledge.  She didn’t seem convinced however, and told us that if we saw Malcolm and his friends, that we were to tell them to go back to Vacomagus and to forget about their quest.  She told us that her employers, who we guessed were the Yuan-ti, would kill the group if they went any further.  She put the bucket on the table and went back upstairs.

With trepidation, we lifted the towel and saw a pair of bloody hands in the bucket.  Malcolm and Copoc quickly realized that the hands were from one of their former companions, Gann, a hobgoblin fighter.  We quickly discussed things.  We were all of the opinion that we should confront Cryda and her friend, who we had learned was a sorceress named Brethune.  Kuldar wanted to send one of the Alfar slaves, who was a rogue, in their window to assassinate them, while he kicked in the door.  No one else cared much for that idea.  It was finally decided that Malcolm and the slave would go through the window, while the rest of us rushed the door of their room.

As we walked out to the stables to get the slave, an arrow suddenly sprouted from Malcolm’s back.  From a window on the second floor of the Inn, Cryda was holding a bow.  At the same time a chain lightning erupted outof the darkness of the stables - hitting me first and then bouncing to the party members and the slaves.  It toasted all of them but the Alfar rogue. Worse yet, the obviously invisible sorceress did not re-appear after casting it! 

Kuldar ran towards the only window into the barn and swung at empty space, hoping to connect. He missed. I cast a dispel magic and Kuldar had guessed right, even if her invisiblity had masked her. 

She hissed at Kuldar, waved her hands and disappeared! 

Malcom, having fought off the effects of what would turn out to be Wyvern poison shouted out, "The sorceress, she's up in the inn!" 

I turned into an eagle and flew up towards the assassin's window, as Kuldar rushed back into the inn.  Cryda hit Malcolm with another poisoned shot as he fought to get into the cover of the inn, again it was poisoned.  Then Bethune’s familiar, a pseudo-dragon, flew down towards Malcolm and his sting, the third poison to hit him in a matter of seconds was too much for him. He fell to the ground unconscious. Copoc drove the thing off before it could kill him. 

I thought I was in bad shape from the chain-lightning, but then Brethune hit me with some type of spell I was unfamiliar with which did a tremendous amount of damage.  I was in bad shape.  As I flew over to Copoc (who was trying to follow Kuldar into the inn) for some much needed healing, Cryda shot me with an arrow.  By all Nature’s Fury I was hurting.  

While Kuldar made promises to Vycos in the Inn to help us, I managed to summon up a giant constrictor in the room with our attackers.  Brethune teleported out of the inn, and into the doorway of the stables as the giant snake looped itself around Cryda and began to squeeze.  After some healing help from Copoc, I was alive enough to bring down a flame strike on Brethune.  Although it obviously hurt her badly, she survived.  Her pseudo-dragon familiar did not.  She screamed and teleported away.  Kuldar and Vycos burst into the room as Cryda was about to expire.  She began to change slightly, and grew some fangs.  It was apparent now that she was more than just a servant of the snake people -- she was one of them now.

I dispersed the giant constrictor before it killed Cryda.  I must say that it looked disappointed.  Copoc hypnotized her to find out what she knew, which wasn’t much.  She did agree to lead us to the village of the Nathrach, if we didn’t kill her.  We noticed that the stables and inn were still on fire, and set about extinguishing them.

Vycos demanded his payment from Kuldar for helping, and went to the stables.  He grabbed the screaming, terrified living Alfar slave, as well as the dead one, and left to eat them.  Kuldar just shrugged.


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## coyote6 (Dec 6, 2003)

Ouch. That's gotta be hard on the conscience.


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## Gideon (Dec 6, 2003)

coyote6 said:
			
		

> Ouch. That's gotta be hard on the conscience.




But Alfar is just so darn tasty


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## monkeyman (Dec 6, 2003)

Gudlaug's player here.  Yes, I was bothered by the fact that we gave the Alfar to the half-ogre for help in a fight, especially since the half-ogre didn't end up doing anything.  I stayed quiet though, because 1)  Gudlaug wasn't in the room where the deal was being brokered, and 2)  Slavery is legal in the game setting, so what are you going to do.  Kuldar had made the arraingement legally, and it was binding.  If we had gotten into an arguement about it, I would only have suceeded in getting in a fight with the half-ogre, Vycos.  He is the leader of the mercenary unit that was camped near by.  There were no real good options.


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## CleverName (Dec 8, 2003)

Yeah, 

It's tough adjudicating stuff like that. I don't like putting PCs in moral dilemnas that are as "off the cuff" as that. That is, I don't mind it at all, and in fact, _enjoy_ it when it is a structured part of an overall story. It does bother me somewhat when I feel obliged to have an NPC act so ruthelessly and 'kinda rub the PC's noses in it. That was not my plan, but I could not play Vycos any other way. (Palaestra is meant to have plenty of gray between the black and white moral poles.)

The PCs actually had rather lenghty arguements as to the disputation of the slaves when they encountered them. In the end the PCs decided maintain their ruse as slavers and use the slaves as props and release them later. They even sold off the goblin slaves.

But, I found it interesting that this rather hard-line mollified as time went on. When they got to town and used their prentense as slavers to get a meeting with Vycos (to determine what he might know of the goings on in the area). They were rightfully repulsed when he wanted to buy the Alfar slaves off of them for dinner. This meeting, of course, scared the hell out of the slaves and an 8 ft. half ogre with small army at his back _impressed _ the PCs as well.  

Afterword they assured the slaves that they would be freed after the PCs finished their business in town -- the PCs even used their money to buy weapons, clothing and armor for them, gifts for when they got out of town.

Getting jumped by Bethas and Cryda outside the barn where the slaves were kept was not part of their plan. Bethas' power scared the heck out of them(Gudlag went from 90+ HPs to about 10 in a round in a half.) 

I personally believe that the party *was* willing to _risk _ that some of these slaves might have had to have been sold into slavery when they went to Medoc, due to circumstances that they could not control, in order for the PCs to maintian their ruse as slavers. I do not think the PCs really considered the fact that the slaves could be killed because of the slaves association with the party. Of course *I * say that as the DM who knew the players were being hunted by Cryda and Bethas (and some others) -- there were a lot of factors that were beyond their control. For instance, Copoc did slip up and give Cryda his real name -- that was a genuine, honest mistake that really made her question just who these strange "slavers" were. OTOH, the PCs decided to interrogate a couple of the slaves who they thought had some info on them. They did this in the stable, where I had decided Bethas, with _improved invisibility_ was spying on them (tipped off by Cryda). Then, as part of the interrogation Copoc dropped the _alter self _ spell  (via hat of disguse) and revealed his true, scaly visage to Bethas. 

Quick villian (DM) mathematics:

NPCs looking for Malcomb the Cimbri, and Copoc the Lizardfolk. 

Meet weird slavers in town, and a human named Copoc (not a common name) + find out "Copoc" is lizardfolk = party is disgused = we ambush them and try to kill a couple of them. 

They had no way of knowing that happened of course.

I personally feel that the "good" PCs should be pretty upset about what happened and realize that putting the slaves at risk was the wrong thing to do in the long run, even if the PCs did not directly kill them. After all was said and done, I remember more than one of the PCs saying, "Never again." I think that was learned.


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## AutoSponge (Dec 9, 2003)

har har!

I wuz playn lawful nootral!@!@@!!!!

dat aflarr got pwnzord!

/inside joke off

Kuldar is fairly stoic.  He has a mild sense of humor, but he is constantly reminded of his purpose and the short time he (and I) have to accomplish the tasks at hand.

The slaves were property under the law.  The goblinoids especially were nothing new as a concept of property for cheap labor--he's a dwarf.  Yes they were in danged, but no more than they were alone in the forest staked to the ground.  The first thing I did when meeting them was feed them (someone left that out).

Kuldar's actions wouldn't repulse him, so I don't let them repulse me and if someone in the party makes a comment or shows distaste I think they just don't understand dwarves... they make the same face when I belch at dinner.

So far I'm playing Kuldar true to what I thought he'd be.  I may be playing him too intelligent, but that's suppose to be offset by the tight timeframe I'm working in and his vast experience in political settings.


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## CleverName (Dec 9, 2003)

*Koob Conspirancy*

*Adventure 12 *  has made its appearance, so please check it out (above). 

Filled with Koobigoodness. (Check out the link in the title.)

Thanks!


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## CleverName (Dec 10, 2003)

*Adventure 17 (6/18-19/497)*

Deadly Ascensions
_by Copoc Kitzam (David Nickerson)_


After Kanul Yat Balam had _hypnotized _ the strange yuan-ti/ cimbri amalgamation named Cryda, and we had interrogated her thoroughly, it became clear that we would have trouble getting any useful information.  I asked the wretched creature to give us one reason that we should not kill her immediately.  She claimed to know of a secret entrance to the Nothroc's valley  and offered to lead us to it in exchange for her life. Up until now we only knew vague directions to the Nothroc's vale -- a game trail leading east towards the mountains, a day's walk outside town. Cryda swore an oath to Gudlaug and the Druids that she would not fight us or help her brethren if they were encountered along the way.  

The bloodlust was upon Kuldar.  He was frustrated that the sorceress Bethune refused to be cleaved in our previous encounter, and I knew that his axe would soon put Cryda’s wicked spirit to rest.  It mattered not.  I suspected that any further aid  we might receive from her would be unintentional.  She had chosen her fate.  At least the fanged mutation had provided a small amount of treasure that could be used to further our cause.  We collected some +1 studded armor, a masterwork scimitar, 2 potions of Cure Serious Wounds, 20 platinum pieces, and 400 gold pieces before binding her fast and venturing out to finish our clean up of the barn and inn.

Big Nate was at the inn surveying the damage and we found Vykos dragging out the remainder of the slaves for a feast.  I vowed silently not to masquerade as a slaver in the future, at least not in a way that would put innocents at risk.

We explained to Big Nate how we were assaulted in the inn by Cryda and her mistress Bethune.  We also offered to pay restitution for the ruined barn.  As Kuldar handled this well, and Gudlaug inquired of Nate as to where we might find the residence of Solviss, the Nothroc healer that had vanished from the town, and also that of our attacker, Bethune.  We suspected that the two might somehow be connected.  

It happened that Bethune resided some miles outside of town, so we decided to visit Solviss’ home first, before leaving.  As Malcolm sought and removed the various traps protecting the healer’s dwelling, Big Nate glanced at our work from the porch of his inn across the street.  He appeared to be stockpiling water buckets, perhaps to ward off future conflagrations.  He shook his head and quickened his pace when Kuldar smashed the door open.  

Soon we found ourselves in some sort of herb emporium, with narrow stairs leading up.  Slowly ascending, Malcolm probed for traps once more.  There was a yelping noise as Malcolm deftly dodged a wicked spike that was no doubt dripping with poison.  He then announced that the place was now free and clear.  The two rooms upstairs proved  to be a bedroom and a lab of sorts, the walls covered with scrolls describing various herbal concoctions.  I was regretting that I had failed to complete my training in herbal lore when a patch of writing on one of the scrolls caught my attention, pulsating rhythmically in a bizarre hue.  As I approached the scroll, I silently thanked Kanul Yat Balam for bestowing upon me this magical vision.  I could now see the various auras given off by enchanted items.  I also imagined that I saw a snake uncoil from the scroll and strike at my neck.  Momentarily startled, I shouted perhaps too loudly “Hey friends, I think I have located another trap!”  Slightly annoyed at the laughter erupting from my comrades, I turned to see that Andreas and Dario had mysteriously joined Kuldar, Malcolm, Gudlaug, and our prisoner! 

Confusing explanations followed, in which much was revealed.  I was quite surprised to discover that I had indeed located a trap-and set it off!  A _Sepia Snake Sigil_ I was told.  I had been cloaked in amber energy, unable to move or think.  It sounded far fetched to be sure, but there was no other explanation.  

Having finished with their pressing business in Ephesium, Andreas and his cohort Dario had scryed Gudlaug and then teleported to his side.  Andreas had subsequently been able to free me from my prison, a fact that I am most thankful for and will remember.

We informed Andreas that we were hunting for the Nothroc, a sept (sub-tribe) of the Siluri in league with the yuan-ti, and that Kuldar had joined us at the request of Queen Nighean of the Vacomagi.  We had only one clue -- that a yuan-ti operative named Krace was, or had been, embedded within the Nothroc.  After recounting the story, Gudlaug focused his attention once more on Cryda.

“Did you ever have contact with Solviss?” he asked

“I saw her at the Nothroc village.”

“What is the connection between the yuan-ti and the Nothroc?”

“There are lots of Nothroc now loyal to the cause. The others are our prisoners.”

“What cause?  Scaly supremacy?” blurted Andreas.

Cryda smiled and her brusied and bloodied fate was lit with some insane joy, "I was told that you destroyed a lesser leader of the Yuan-Ti, Wulvera. No matter. Krace was her better. Krace has layed the eggs of your kind's destruction all about you. Krace has restored to us, Galavesh, who is greater and more Terrible than any. You will join us, or die. The eggs are already hatching..." 

Sickened at this point, Andreas described a hideous new spell that he had recently acquired called _acid fog_.  If Cryda was intimidated, she still failed to speak more.

We were soon distracted from the interrogation as Malcolm discovered a cubbyhole behind the hanging scroll trap.  It contained several additional scrolls detailing a list of herbs, and also a note written in cimbri  questioning the need of some of the items.  Someone had sent Solviss shopping.

I wasn’t sure if it was the recipe for a potion, but I did use my herbal knowledge to identify most of the ingredients.  My teachers would be proud.  Some of the herbs were not indigenous to this area, but common in the southern climes.  Also there were some low grade narcotics and poisons- herbs that only kulkans cultivate as far as I know.  Very strange.  Malcolm also found lots of potion brewing equipment and sniffed out a secret compartment in the headboard of the bed.  It contained scrolls in old cimbri, extremely fragile, that recounted  tales or myths of the Nothroc.  We took these as well as the ingredient lists.

After collecting our cart and donkeys we departed.  We noticed two men leaving the Medocii fort and heading into town, but continued our trek for about three hours and then set up camp.  

That night we studied and rested as Malcolm captivated us at the campfire with stories from the scrolls he had discovered.  Two stories we found particularly interesting and perhaps relevant to our current quest.  One described an ancient Cimbri tribe and their discovery of a mountain valley with one end filled with fetid swampland. They entered the valley and encountered a strange race, the ard-nothroc, which Malcomb translated as "noble serpents." These ram horned serpents formed a bond with the charismatic leader of the Cimbiri. The leader of the ard-nothrac presented the chieftain with his very daughter, and the Nothroc tribe was born of that union. The Cimbri continued to protect the ard-nothroc in exchange for the serpents' great wisdom and knowledge as alchemists and healers.  

Another tale revealed a terrible civil war within the Nothroc tribe.  Apparently a powerful creature "with a head like a nest of serpents" found its way into the vale and resided there for a time. Some of the nothroc tribesfolk fell under its sway and led some of the cimbri astray, effectively splitting the tribe an engendering a war. Finally the ard-nothroc rose up with their protectors and fought this creature. When the destruction had ended this agent provocateur had been bound up and sealed in a barrow.

The next morning we continued our journey with Cryda in the lead.  She was apparently content to lead us to this Nothroc stronghold with its mysterious “back entrance,” and slyly neglected to make it clear that Bethune’s residence was in the opposite direction.  At around midday we found ourselves in a clearing of sorts, deeply forested on both sides.  (When a voice from the sky suddenly made inquiries about our marching order we knew that there would be trouble.)  

Several of us heard a terrible whooshing din and we turned to see the very grass in our wake being flattened to the earth by an unseen force.  This invisible blast approached too rapidly to dodge, and we were shaken to our core as a black dragon suddenly appeared, soaring overhead and laughing. A terrible miasma of acidic gas engulfed us and most of our poisons and all of our water spoilt. 

Two of my potions of neutralize poison were clouded and I heard gasps of dismay from Malcolm and Kuldar as they lost potions as well.  The dragon spun in the air ahead and I recognized a chance to test the mettle of one of my newer spirit allies- Ikali Mox, the Living Storm!  Fingering Tempest, the ice blue gem that anchored Ikali Mox to this plane, I called upon her to rush toward the earth, pummeling the black wyrm with a column of turbulent air in an attempt to bring him before us.  The _downdraft _ failed and the dragon continued to fly unperturbed.  Was it my imagination or did he glare at me?  Still quaking inexplicably, I was unsure.  Dario fired an arrow and missed.  The black dragon hung in the air, laughing, and we could see that he was both horned and fanged, and also covered with a swirling patter of green scales.  In retrospect, I felt rather fortunate that Ikali Mox had failed!  

Gazing upward and with a mixture hope and fear Cryda cried out “Cyranog!”

“You know this wyrm?” shouted Kuldar, grabbing her arm.

“Of course!  Cyranog helped Krace to unlock Galavesh’s prison and was rewarded with ascension, like myself! Now he guards the unascended traitors.” Cryda struggled to against her bonds.  

Malcolm fired another arrow and missed.  Cyranog laughed again, then retreated, lazily to the east just as suddenly as he had arrived. When would he return?

He was replaced, however, by three new reptillian shapes in the sky.  I grasped my blade fashioned from the claw of a devil cat and implored Xmukane Kan to encase me once again in stoneskin.  Just as the three wyverns descended, Bethune teleported several yards in front of us with four cimbri guardsmen.  Gondoc appeared before me and chaos ensued.

Like a rabid pack of blink dogs, Gondoc’s spirit minions were leaping and snapping at his thighs and elbows, begging to be released into the fray.  Deeming himself the master strategist, Gondoc directed me, or I should say commanded me , to attack the sorceress.  I think he forgets sometimes who, exactly, is running the show!  Maybe I have not gone toe to toe with the Black King after fighting my way through his dread nest, but I know a thing or two about who is posing a threat!  Gondoc was happily preparing to release his _ghost dance_ when Andreas dropped an acid fog on the sorceress and her four defenders.  The towering spirit was disappointed at first, but seemed well pleased by the screams that soon erupted from within the sizzling mist.  

“Save me mistress!” hollered Cryda, and began running forward.  Kuldar, who was already charging, turned to yell, “Stay put wench!”  When Cryda continued attempting escape, Kuldar rushed her and cut clean through her torso.  So much for our guide.

Malcolm meanwhile continued firing at the wyverns, and several of his shots rang true.  Suddenly the sorceress and three of her, now steaming, cohorts appeared behind us.  We were all exasperated by this constant teleporting, so I had Xmukane Kan haste Dario in hopes that some extra speed would prove useful.  As Dario hurdled toward Bethune she shouted in draconic for the wyverns to “get the sorcerer!”  All three monsters swooped toward us, but luckily Gudlaug had prepared a chain lightening and was able to kill one while severely injuring another.  Wailing in agony, the second wyvern  closed on us, slashing me with its jagged claw.  I was knocked aside, but hardly felt the blow through my stony flesh.  Andreas roasted my attacker with a scorching ray before it could continue its assault while Kuldar and Malcolm decimated the third wyvern.     

Stamping his feet and howling, Gondoc would be denied no longer!  He released the spirit warriors of his ghost dance and they surrounded Dario, Bethune, and the three remaining cimbri.  They seemed to be awaiting instructions so I directed them all at Bethune.  The maddened pack tore into her immediately, ripping and raking with delight as they strove to drag her down.  She screamed with rage and then _Bamf! _ She was gone once more.  

Xmukane Kan was growing jealous at the attention being given to Gondoc and urged me to enter a barbaric frenzy and demonstrate his might.  Dario had already killed two cimbri, however, and the kulkan spirits were practically devouring the unfortunate one who remained, so I chose to refrain.  I did not wish to become a liability or pose a threat to my companions.  Xmukane Kan does much to protect me in battle and I will reward him soon with an impressive display of his barbarian rage. 

All of the dead wyverns were _ascended_,  covered with green scales and horns and other nasty protrusions.  As we inspected the dead cimbri and collected our loot we discovered that they were mutated as well.  We salvaged three mighty +2 longbows  and some masterwork studded armor.  The cimbri also had a total of nine potions.  The vials were indeed surrounded by a magical aura, and strangely enough were labeled in a neat script as cure light wounds and cure critical wounds.  

I withdrew from my comrades to bleed myself and make sure that Gondoc was sated  He had surely proven himself to be a worthy ally.  I noticed several crows circling a small cottage set in the woods and then returned to find Malcolm and Kuldar greedily drinking the potions.  Suddenly Malcolm keeled over.  He was pale and shaking and drooling a lot.  I shook him but he did not respond.  Before long he was green and well on his way to full blown _ascension_.  Guldlag cast a neutralize potion, which seemed to slow the trasfromation. Andreas cast a _break enchantment_ and that seemed to finally disrupt the transformation.  Within minutes the weird coloration was gone and Malcolm appeared to be normal.  

We inspected the remaining potions, all cure critical wounds.  We discovered that these, and in fact all of the vials, were marked with the Nothroc symbol -- includig the ones taken from the orc slavers two days ago! Kuldar secured the tainted elixirs, claiming to be immune to any ill effects.  This did not strike me as a good idea, but I must admit that Kuldar did not appear to ascend.  At least not in the manner that Malcolm had experimented with.

We approached the cottage and were welcomed by the stench of charred flesh emanating from the corpses of fifteen Siluri.  There was a damaged wagon and a strong box that had been cracked open.  We assumed that there would be a Rogulkan mercenary waiting in Medoc for the second half of a payment that now would never arrive.  Vycos would not be pleased. 

Inside the cottage we uncovered two crates of neatly labeled vials- healing potions of deadly ascension.  There was also a list of destinations including Silurus, Medoc, Trien, Perna, Arras & Laon.  All checked off.  

Now some of this began to make sense. The mastermind of this insidious scheme would start a war between the Cimbir, weakening both tribes and manufacturing troops for its cause at the same time.  Gudlaug summoned two ravens and sent messages to the half ogre Vykos in Medoc.  

The hastily scrawled parchment read: "Your payment is not coming. Someone has killed the messengers and stolen the gold, we found their bodies about 10 miles up the road towards Silurus. Beware potions marked with the horned serpent, they are poison." 

Andreas also suggested that he send Kuldar and Gudlaud to deliver _dream _ messages via a spell. It will be interesting to see what this means and how it will be accomplished. 

Of all the spell users I have encountered in my travels none of them have been trained in the old ways.  I have heard rumors of non-kulkan shamans, but in reality they seem not to exist.  It is difficult to fathom, but I have witnessed these mammals harnessing magical forces -- powerful forces -- while bypassing the Spirit World entirely  I feel that I must learn more.  

None of my ancestors had this ability, but the Spirit World abounds with those who have followed this path.  The lost souls of wizards and sorcerers and priests call out to me as other spirits, searching for a shaman to latch onto, desperate for a means of ingress into our world.  Many are the emotions I sense in passing, with a mixture of motives.  I must find one who can further the goals of Kanul Yat Balam.  I will give him a peek, let him gain purchase in our reality and then see what he can teach me.  As always, I look to my Guardian for guidance.

We gathered our goods together and set off towards where we believe the trail to the nothroc villiage lies, determined to get closer and then wait until nightfall when we have the best chance to have the dream spell function. The targets, Sativola and Nighean, must be asleep for the spell to work.


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## CleverName (Dec 10, 2003)

*Dream Message 1*

*Kuldar's Dream message to Queen Nighean*
_(Paul Grenier)_

As your trusted and loyal servant, and per our agreement, I have assisted those your highness requested to seek and return a Yuan-ti specimen.

We are being forced to go directly to their base of operations and will not be able to return with a proper specimen any time soon.  However, we have learned enough that you can probably find a Yuan-ti or at least their servants very close to Vacomagus -- perhaps too close.

The Nothrok tribe of Siluri has been creating and distributing potions of healing with their symbol on the label.  We have reason to suspect that these potions have been delivered through the northern territories of Vacomagus but not within Vacomagus proper.  These potions do have curative effects, however they also have a chance to transform the imbiber into an "ascended" creature, something closer to a "pure-blood" Yuan-ti.

[I'll create an image of the dead Cimbri, Cryda, with her fangs. ]

These ascended creatures seem completely loyal to the leaders of this cult. It is my belief that the Nothroc intend to incite the entire northern region into a war to create demand for their potions.  An army will instantly be under their control if this is allowed to happen, and their plans for the Vacomagi are unknown--but I assume the worst.

A wizard friend of the group I am with learned that this transformation can be stopped by a "break enchantment" spell.  However, we do not know if it can be reversed and even after death the transformed beings retain their snake-like attributes.  While I'm not a study of magic, it seems that it is a potent substance indeed and something that could be the undoing of all Cimbri peoples.

Most recently the Rugulkun band of mercenaries in Medoc, waiting for their payment from Silurus, are a wild card.  Their payment was sacked by the Nothroc.  The mercenaries may decide to collect their payment from Silurus hides, they may fight for themselves to plunder all in the Cimbri war, or they may just go home--although I suspect they will not. 

Wish me luck.  We will soon begin our assault in earnest.  But be wary of spies in your court.  There have been two attacks on us now by a sorceress and her Yuan-ti minions.  [I'll also try to summon a vision of Bethune.] Only the members of your court and the guests present that day knew of our plans to travel toward Silurus.  Someone has involved this sorceress, Bethune.  While she has not been successful in killing anyone, she is difficult to catch and  seems to be bringing more help each time.  If we do not reach the Nothroc, she alone will be the reason why and all hopes for averting this most dangerous war may be dashed.

Be wary, be well.


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## CleverName (Dec 10, 2003)

*Dream Message II*

*Gudlaug's Dream Message to Sativola*_
(Jon Hanna)_

Sativola.  I, Gudlaug, come to you in your dreams via the magic of a human Wizard to warn you of a grave danger.  The queen sent us to discover information regarding the Yuan-ti invasion of the Silure lands.  We have found some information which promises harm for more Cimbri than just the Silures.  We believe the Yuan-ti are hidden among the mountains of the Saluri with a tribe known as the Nathrach.  They have been brewing a potion that can heal wounds, AND turn the drinker into a Yuan-ti servant.  The victim will gain snakelike features, and will presumably be under the control of the Yuan-ti.  Large amounts of this potion have been distributed among the Silures, the Brigantes, and in some vacomagi cities.  We don’t think they have been distributed in Vacomagus itself, but we can’t be sure.  If any healers that you know of have received healing potions from the Nathrach, they should be destroyed.

We believe the Yuan-ti are behind the upcoming war between the Silures and the Brigantes.  They will play both sides against each other so that there are a large amount of casualties.  When these casualties drink this healing potion, they will become slaves of the Yuan-ti.  The longer and bloodier this war is, the more victims there will be.  We know that the Yuan-ti have been in this region for some years, so they could have brewed a tremendous amount of the potion by now.

We also think there may be a Yuan-ti spy hidden in the queen’s court.  The Yuan-ti had agents waiting for us in Medoc.  They knew where we were going and when we would be there.  Be careful.

We are continuing on to find the nest of the Yuan-ti and kill them.  We have learned of a Black dragon that they control.  We have also heard rumors of some type of demon that has Yuan-ti connections.  We will proceed carefully.”


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## CleverName (Dec 16, 2003)

*Adventure 18*

Drinking Gudlag's Water
_by Andreas (Keith Martin)_

The following morning, their Dream messages delivered, Gudlaug and Kuldar discussed how best to proceed into Silurus – and how best to prepare for whatever might befall them there.

“We’ve no provisions left” Andreas reported. “The passing of the black drake not only ruined our healing and other magical elixirs, it fouled our drinking water and spoilt our food as well. I don’t fancy walking all the way to the Silurii homeland on an empty stomach.”

Gudlaug sighed. “How quickly you forget, my human friend. I’m a Druid. I can certainly find more than enough game and fodder along the way to keep even Kuldar’s belly full. And if need be, I can make water.”

“Big deal” Malcom replied at once. “Hell, any of us can make water. In fact, if you will all excuse me a moment . . .” The brash young Cimbri walked off behind a nearby tree to demonstrate his point.

“If it’s all the same, I’d as soon not lower myself to . . . drinking Gudlaug’s water” Andreas said. 

“Bah, that’s not what I meant and you all know it!” the dwarven druid blurted out. “Our provisioning need not concern any of you. Of more pressing concern is what do we do next?”

“Go to Silurus. Kill everything.” Kuldar said at once. “That’s the plan I’ve advocated from the beginning.”

Andreas bodyguard, Dario, rolled his eyes at this, but said nothing. The group fell into debate about how best to proceed. Kuldar and Malcom advocated using Gudlaug’s magics to travel via the shadow plane and thus cover the distance in as short a time as possible. Andreas and Gudlaug were less interested in this approach, both being somewhat familiar with the danger inherent in such a plan. In the end, they elected to travel by foot, keeping off the road as much as possible, and relying on Gudlaug’s woodcraft and magic to both enable them to pass undetected and find the path towards the high mountain valley where the Nathrach dwelt.

The first evening out, replies came to the previous day’s magical Dream messages. Gudlaug learned that the druidical order had been informed regarding the apparent plans of the yuan-ti as well as the tainted healing potions. From the court of the Vacomagi, Kuldar learned that the identity of the suspected spy had been uncovered and he had been dealt with.

The next day, Malcom spotted a group of mixed cimbri and half-orc warriors moving up the road towards Silurus. Gudlaug spied them out in the form of a bird and reported that they seemed by their dress to be both Brigantii and Silurii, as well as a few strange lizard seeming creatures. Copoc was intrigued at this report, ever hoping to find the connection between the yaun-ti and the Black Kulkan of his own myth. 

“Here’s our best chance yet to get started. Let’s ambush ‘em and wipe ‘em out!” said Kuldar. “How many, you think?”

“Fourty, at least.” Gudlaug replied. 

“I’m good for twenty, you lot handle the rest” Kuldar said. He hefted his axe in anticipation. 

“I doubt we need concern ourselves with them overmuch” Gudlaug said. “My guess is, this is but a tithe of those who will soon be coming up the road towards the Nathrach. I think these are deserters, essentially. The first few to fall victim to the tainted healing draughts. All well on the way to becoming like our late friend Cryda – half yaun-ti themselves.”

“We could shadow them” Malcom said. “Follow behind, out of sight, and see what becomes of them.”

The group agreed to do just that. Gudlaug continued to cover their tracks, and Malcom kept the Cimbri band in sight. The rest of the company followed at a safe distance. They seemed, by all accounts, to be making directly for the valley of the Nathrach. That night, more magical sendings arrived from Vacomagus. More fighting was breaking out, and an assassin – possible Bethune herself – had delivered a tainted kiss to Kegan, who fell ill at once.

Andreas brought up the group’s plan – or lack thereof. “As usual, we seem to be charging headlong against a foe about which we know little, with no real course of action. What, exactly, are we planning to do when we reach the Nathrach region?”

“Well,” Kuldar began, “I propose that we . . .”

“Cut them all in half?” Dario finished for the dwarf.

“Something like that, yes” Kuldar replied. “You catch on quick, for a human.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer a plan less likely to result in us all ending up dead, or worse.” Andreas said. “Taking on the entire Nathrach nation doesn’t seem like such a plan to me.”

“We need some inssssight into Bethune’s actionsss” Copoc hissed. “Some clue asss to her plansss.”

“I have a scrying mirror in my haversack” Andreas mumbled, half to himself. “If I had some possession of hers, something she’d owned or handled, I might be able to see what she was doing.” 

“What about the potions?” Malcom said. “We know she was involved with those. If she didn’t actually brew them she at least handled them.” 

“It’s worth a try, I suppose. Let me see one of them.” Andreas prepared the components for his spell.

With the potion in hand, he made a few passes over the mirror, saying things in High Illerian that none of his companions could understand. “Bethune is a sorcerer and an accomplished one at that” Andreas warned the group. “Her will is strong, this may well fail or even alert her to our presence. Shall I proceed?” As no one seemed to object, or have any better suggestions, Andreas went one with his incantation. Slowly, the surface of the mirror clouded over. He seemed to see, as from a great height, a collection of buildings. Warm light spilled out of many windows, and Andreas was gripped with a momentary twisting, sickening feeling in his stomach as his point of view seemed to fall rapidly towards the largest structure in the town. With a rush, he seemed to fall through the roof of the building, down into some chamber below . . .

When the scrying trance ended, Andreas reported what he’d seen to his companions.

“I saw Bethune abase herself before a great serpentine form, a massive, scaled creature with arms ending in cruel, taloned fingers and a broad, flat, snake-like head.”

 “Krace . . .” Copoc mumbled. “Aye, that would be Krace.” Malcom affirmed.

Andreas continued “To one side of the cimbri sorceress was a map, clearly showing all of the cimbri lands north of the Skia Thalassa. Small potion-bottle icons dotted most of the Siluri and Briganti villages. Krace seemed to be congratulating her. She gestured towards another map, this one apparently of the Nathrach valley. I could make out what seemed to be a vast swamp, lying between the valley entrance and what I guess to be the Nathrach city. Just north of that swamp as a marking that looked rather like a cave mouth. Depicted over it was the form of a horned serpent, chained and bound.”

“The ard-nathrach crypt, perhaps?” Gudlaug said. “The resting place of the original Nathrach, those that the tribe supposedly takes its name from?”

“Perhaps.” Andreas agreed. “It was not clearly marked, at any rate.”

“If it is, though, it bears investigation” Kuldar said. “Our list of allies could use a little lengthening.”

“What, you don’t want to cut them all in half?” Dario asked. “losing your edge, master dwarf?” Kuldar scowled in reply. “Look, lad, I’ve had about enough of your lip. Why don’t we . . .”

Andreas interrupted “Why don’t you both simmer down, there’s more. On that same map was a palisade fence, it looked to me as if it closed off the end of the valley itself, so it mut be some miles in length. It seemed to me Bethune was reporting a tally of something – five score markers were depicted near this symbol, and as she spoke to Krace, Bethune added a few more.”

“In another day or so she’ll add another forty, I guess.” Malcom said. “She probably reports on the effectiveness of the tainted potions in gathering new ‘converts’ to the cause.”

“I hadn’t considered that. You may well be right. I saw one other thing, most troubling. I saw a shadow fall over both figures, Bethune and Krace both hurled themselves face down in fear and abasement. They looked fairly terrified to me.”

“What cast this shadow?” Gudlaug asked. “I could not tell, but it had a singularly un-nerving outline. A large creature, certainly, and its head seemed to – writhe.”

“Writhe?” Copoc said. “Like a snake?”

“Like many snakes. It was our snake-headed demon, of that I am fairly certain. I saw only the thing’s hand – a very large and powerful looking hand, at that. It gifted Bethune with what looked to me like an entire skin, flayed from a living man. Or a living elf, I suppose.” Malcom looked a bit queasy. “Whatever it was, it was – tattooed all over. And it was still moving. Bethune donned it as one might don a silk robe and it – joined itself to her, is the only way I can explain it. When this was finished, she looked even less like a Cimbri than before. Her skin was decidedly scaly looking.”

“Wonderful.” Gudlaug said. “She slips further and further into full-blown reptile-hood all the time!”

“That’s not all. When this was finished, Krace gave her a case of wine, which she took and then magiced herself off somewhere. My spell ended at that point. I think she teleported herself someplace.”

“Wine? A case of wine, you say?” Kuldar said. “I think I’ll need you to make use of that dream message again, wizard. The Vacomagi import a great deal of wine from Siluri. Some of it at least comes from the Nathrach.”

Andreas made preparations to do so, and allow Kuldar to warn his people against the possibility of tainted wine. Gudlaug, Copoc and Malcom debated the merits of attempting to reach the cave or crypt that Andreas had seen on Bethune’s map. All seemed to think this was a wise plan, though of course there was considerable danger involved. 
“North of a swamp, it looked to be, you say?” Said Kuldar. “Black dragons live in swamps. We know they’ve a black dragon involved in this plot.”

“Cyranog” Copoc said. “Cryda named it Cyranog. She seemed to know about it.”

“And she said that Cyranog guards the unfaithful” Malcom said. “At least, I think that’s what she said, we didn’t get a chance to discuss it at length, her desire to chitchat was cut a bit short by Kuldar’s axe.”

“Bah. She had it comin’” Kuldar spat. “I told her if she played us false, or tried to flee, I’d see her dead. So I’m a dwarf of my word.”

With all in agreement to seek out this cave, the group set out the next morning on the last leg of the trip to the valley where the Nathrach dwelt. By late afternoon they approached the palisade fence that Andreas saw on Bethune’s map. The group of forty partially-transformed Cimbri were there already. A few yaun-ti guards examined them closely before allowing any to pass through the gate.

From hiding, the group concocted a plan to pass the gate and seek out the lair of Cyranog. Gudlaug would transform himself into a bird and fly ahead, seeking out the swamp and the cave, if possible. At a pre-determined point, Andreas would scry him out and then use his magics to teleport the entire group nearby. Gudlaug unpacked the last remaining gear from his mule, Gertrude, then sent her loose to make her way back towards Vacomagi as best she could. “She’s uncommonly bright for a mule” the dwarf said. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, just fine.” Dario thought he detected a bit of uncertainty in the dwarf’s tone, but said nothing.

The group put this plan into action, and Gudlaug, in the form of a great night bird, had little difficulty spotting the hunting ground of Cyranog the drake – the panicky wildlife was his first clue. The sudden appearance of the dragon, as it dove into a small herd of deer was his second. Luckily, dragons take little interest in the doings of screech owls, and the druid was able to scout out a potential camping spot with no troubles from the drake. At the appointed hour, Andreas spied out the dwarf’s location and brought he group there via his magic.

“Sleep as best you can, we’ll likely be tangling with the thing tomorrow. I spied the cave, it’s a few short miles north of us, just outside the swamp proper.” Gudlaug said.

“Know any charms to ward off the thing’s acid breath?” Kuldar said. “I mean, I have no need of them, but the others might want a bit of protection . . .”

“Aye, I do, as does Gudlaug I am sure” Andreas said. “It will take more than that, though, but I have a plan . . .”

The next morning, the company made their way towards the cave entrance, spells prepared, and a plan of action in mind. Outside were a few scaly-looking characters, including what Malcom at first thought we a group of Kulkan – Copoc’s people. Suddenly, the shaman hissed through clenched teeth “Black Kulkan! Scourge of the ancient nest! You will die by my hand!” He pulled forth his great, two-handed war-club and charged. It seemed to Andreas that he cast a spell of some sort first, but he had never seen the lizard-man in such a red rage before.

One of the Black Kulkan quickly revealed himself to be more than it appeared on the surface – a great pair of black wings unfolded as he charged into battle. He belched forth a line of caustic bile that burned Gudlaug and Malcom as they came to grips with the others. Cyranog’s brood were quickly overwhelmed, however, between the battle frenzy of Copoc and the axe and spear work of Malcom, Kuldar and Dario. The half-dragon hissed something in draconic (which Copoc could have translated for the group, were he not in a berserk frenzy) and the last few black kulkan withdrew quickly into the cave itself, leaving the scattered and wounded others to fend for themselves.

The group quickly dispatched these few and then made hasty preparations to enter the lair itself. Abjurative magics in place, they made haste, hoping to catch the drake where it could not use its powers of flight to dictate the course of the battle. Malcom crept forward invisibly to position himself for best effect, but the smell and hearing of a dragon are at least as keen as its eyesight, and the drake seemed to guess at the half-elf’s location. With a spell, it plunged the entire cave into pitch darkness. Only the two dwarves could see Cyranog and his two surviving black kulkan lackeys.

Andreas cursed and spent a few precious moments dispelling the gloom. Malcom charged, but his blows were easily tuned aside by the dragon’s thick scaly hide. Dario rushed the kulkans while Gudlaug called up a mighty pillar of flame, which badly wounded the drake and felled one of his defenders.

“First blood!” the dwarf cried. “Get at him, quickly, Malcom won’t last against that thing.”

Indeed, the dwarf’s words were almost prophetic, for Cyranog unleashed a terrible torrent of claws and venomous bites at the poor Cimbri. Malcom, sorely wounded, fell back as best he could towards Copoc, who readied some healing magics. Kuldar closed with the drake, and dealt it a few terrible blows – any doubts Dario or Andreas had about the dwarf’s ability to combat something other than a bound and terrified cimbri captive were dispelled. 

Cyranog turned his attention towards Kuldar, and the dwarven defender was sorely pressed to bear up under the drake’s assault. “I thought you had a bloody plan, mage!” Kuldar cried out.

In answer, Andreas let forth a shimmering, ruby beam of energy, which struck the drake point blank. The dragon visibly grew weaker, its massive muscles shrank, the mighty wings and tail seemed to droop feebly. “That’s more like it!” Kuldar cried. The dwarf threw himself into the fray again, while Dario and Copoc dispatched the half-dragon kulkan.

But victory was elusive, and Cyranog was canny enough to know when he was beaten. The dragon withdrew, and slithered down a passage in the back of the great cavern where it laired. With a cry of rage, the dwarf gave pursuit, charging down the twisting passage as best he could. The dragon was just fast enough to stay outside the reach of his axe, and the tunnel emerged at last in a large chamber with a pool of foul-smelling liquid. Into this Cyranog the black dragon dove, even as Kuldar cried out curses at him.

“Damnit, you big scaly coward! Get back here and take what’s coming to you!” The others burst into the room behind him. “Bah! The damn thing’s given us the slip! Some plan, wizard.”

“That was but half the plan, dwarf. I didn’t expect the thing to turn tail so soon, though the spell of enfeeblement I hit it with was especially potent. It must have been sorely wounded.”

“Damnit, anyway” Gudlaug said. “We’ll not get a better chance at this. I tire of our foes fleeing just as we are about to finally strike them down, first Bethune and her damnable hit and run tactics, and now this!”

“The fault is mine.” Andreas said. “The thing shrugged off a few of my spells, I should have been better prepared. Next time, I’ll take a simpler approach.”

The group gathered at the edge of the pool. “Who here is our best swimmer?” They all looked at Copoc. The lizard man looked none to excited about chasing a black dragon into the murky depths. “I can’t breathe water, you know . . .” he said. Suddenly Malcomb pointed towards the back of the chamber.

“Look, there. Looks like a passageway. As much as I hate to leave Cyranog behind us, we may find what we came here for in that direction . . .”

[Game mechanical notes – Anyone who doubts the usefulness of the Empower Spell feat need only have been present for that battle. One Empowered Ray of Enfeeblement sent Cyranog from a strength of 23 to a strength of 8. Of course, the dragon wisely decided to haul ass at that point – more’s the pity, as Andreas never got to fire of the Everard’s Black Tentacles spell he’d meant to use to pin down the weakened dragon. As I said, though – next time, a less complicated plan.]


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## Gideon (Dec 17, 2003)

*Shamans*

Clevername, how is the mongoose shamans book working out for you?  My players are embroiled with some of them and I would like to simulate a spirit based system of magic more than a druidic base.  It is getting to be about time that I am gonna need some numbers.  Thanks for the opinion.


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## CleverName (Dec 17, 2003)

Gideon said:
			
		

> Clevername, how is the mongoose shamans book working out for you?  My players are embroiled with some of them and I would like to simulate a spirit based system of magic more than a druidic base.  It is getting to be about time that I am gonna need some numbers.  Thanks for the opinion.





I definitely would reccommend it with some caveats.  I really like how the interaction between the spirits and the shaman works out -- _lots_ of good roleplay potential as the shaman tries to keep his mob happy. In game play it seems balanced, but David is really into his character more than powergaming -- YMMV.

But it is a fair amount of paper prep work, since the DM and player have to prepare each spirit beforehand. The template provided is too complex for my liking, and  David and I are working on re-doing that.

 Here's Gondoc for example:

*Gondoc, Legendary Kulkan Warrior*

*Description:* Gondoc appears as a Large Kulkan with deep red scales dressed in the skins of emerald serpents and jaguars. His maw is always caked with dried blood. He is an ancient _hero_, but craves blood above all else. 

* * Favored Ally	

*Level: * 8

*Domain:* Warrior (Invocation DC 18)

*Anchor*: A small ceramic bowl caked with dried blood.

*Pact/Tasks: * Each day as a Favored spirit, Copoc must spill the blood of self or allies equal to 1/10th of Copoc's maximum hit points, or sacrifice (1 hour ritual) the blood of enemies equal to current hit points x 10. 

*Granted Power:* +1 to all attack rolls

*Spells: * 
1st  — Shield, Enlarge Person
2nd — Ghost Combatant (CotW), Bull’s Strength
3rd — Curse of the Impeding Blades (MHb 34)
4th  — Magic Vestment, Inflict Critical Wounds
5th — Ghost Dance (CotW), Slay Living
6th— Tenser’s Transformation
7th — Gondoc’s Club (Mordenkainen’s Sword)
8th — Iron Body


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## cipher (Dec 17, 2003)

*while we're talking nuts & bolts...*

What adjustments, if any, did you make to the Shaman when you changed over to 3.5?


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## CleverName (Dec 17, 2003)

cipher said:
			
		

> What adjustments, if any, did you make to the Shaman when you changed over to 3.5?





The only adjustment is that we changed to the 3.5 versions of the spells. This can be significant since each spirit's base allotment of spells (and therefore the spells available to the shaman) are based on a domain (a la the cleric)

Not as a part of a 3.5 redux, but to make it fit into Palaestra, I also changed the way the Spirit Plane worked. I did not like the fact that is was, in many ways, the Plane of Shadow, with whitewash: 


The Spirit Plane (The Spirit World)

The Spirit Plane is the land of light, life and generation, the iconic ideal and potential of everything that is or has been. Those that believe in reincarnation also see it as the point of return for those beings returning to life. It is not the resting place of the dead, though a spiritual analogue for everything that has ever existed in the material world still resides in the timeless word of the spirits – so, in some way everything that has died exists in the world of the spirits, as do extinct animals, ancient lost civilizations, and creatures and places yet to be. 

One way of thinking of the relationship between the Spirit Plane, Palaestra and the Plane of Shadow would be to think of a flower and the sun. The flower represents the physical world, or Palaestra. The flower’s shadow upon the grass is the shadow plane, and the life-giving light of the sun is the Spirit Plane.
Objects on the plane of the spirits are larger, more colorful, more energetic than their Material counterparts – the air is filled with blossoms, mists and cool breezes, like the perfect springtime morning, as if the rocks, rivers, mountains and clouds were about to stir into full wakefulness. It is the land of healing, recuperation and generation, a beginning time that never ends. When the sun breaks through the mists from time to time, it reveals luminous blue sky and nearly blinding light.

Periods of morning twilight, corresponding to night on the material plane, do occur, but there is effectively no night on the Spirit Plane.

While all of this sounds wonderful, keep in mind that the Spirit Plane is not “Good.” Don’t forget the cancer is but life run amok. This is the trap of the Spirit Plane and why the wise do not abuse its curative powers, lest the Spirit Plane lash out and destroy them. 

The timeless, or more accurately, time_full_ nature of the Spirit Plane makes it nearly useless as a shortcut between points in the Material World, for those purposes, the Land of Shadows is better suited. 

*TRAITS*


_Normal Gravity:_The usual rules for ability scores, carrying capacity, and encumbrance apply in the Spirit World.


_Timeless: _The effects of time are diminished on the Spirit Plane, creatures do not age, thirst or hunger – the effects of poison and disease are suspended, although damage, including initial damage, is not regenerated – poisons and disease merely lie dormant.


The danger of such a timeless plane is that once one leaves such a plane for one where time flows normally, conditions such as hunger and aging do occur retroactively. The Spirit Plane can effectively become a prison to those who fall under its spell.


Creatures may still eat or nap for pleasure, without any harmful effects.


_Infinite Size:_ The Spirit Plane extends in all directions – a chaotic mish-mash of all terrains and ecologies that have, do or will ever exist in the real world.


_Sentient:_ The Spirit Plane is a spirit in and of itself, representing the spiritual essence of Palaestra. There is a 1% cumulative chance per day of the plane responding to interlopers by leading them into a nidus or sending some of its emissaries to attack the trespassers.

Alignment Traits:


Minor Positive Dominant: Just as the Shadow Plane has a connection to the realm of Negative Energy, the Spirit world is connected to the Positive Energy plane. All creatures gain Fast Healing 2 as an extraordinary ability for as long as they remain on the Spirit Plane. Some small regions on the Spirit Plane, called a nidus, have the major positive-dominant trait, however, see below.


Minor Chaos Dominant: Lawful creatures have a –2 to all Charisma checks on the Spirit Plane.


_Mildly Neutral Aligned: _This has no real effect on play.

Magical Traits:


_Enhanced Magic:_ All healing spells are treated as prepared by the Empowered Spell feat, although they don’t require higher spell slots. All Divination spells are treated as prepared by the Extend Spell feat, although they don’t require higher spell slots.


Impeded Magic: All spells that use or generate shadow or darkness may fail when cast on the Spirit Plane. A spellcaster attempting to cast a spell with darkness or shadow in the descriptor must succeed at a Spellcraft check (DC 15 + the level of the spell).


All creatures which suffer ill effects from sunlight have the effects doubled on the Spirit Plane.

*Travel to the Spirit Plane*

The Spirit Plane is linked to the Prime Material, the Positive Energy Plane, The World Tree and the Ethereal Plane. Coterminous Portals can be found linking these planes from the Spirit Plane, although they are often guarded. It is a matter of some debate if the Plane of Shadow actually touches the Spirit Plane – such portals, if extant, must be well guarded.
Shaman are the only spellcasters that normally possess spells granting easy access to the Sprit World, although other, generic plane-hopping spells, such as gate,  will work as well. 

*Travel on the Spirit Plane*

The Spirit Plane actually overlaps Palaestra, but it is not exactly coterminous due to the timeless nature of the Sprit World. A single locale in our world effectively has an infinite number of versions of itself in the Spirit world, one for each moment in time. The metropolis of Iconium in the year 450’s spiritual analogue (it’s idealized state) exists as does the same plot of land a hundred years ago, and the thousand years from now. A field in Palaestra may be, in turn, mountain, a lake, a castle, a forest, a desert and a field – because that is the “life cycle” of the area, and the Spirit world contains all those potentialities. A person could spend a lifetime wandering around a 10-ft area.

If a person jumped onto the Spirit Plane traveled “north” for three days, he or she could find that he or she only traveled a few feet or thousands of miles. First, calculate the distance the person would have traveled. The actual distance traveled is 1d10x1d10% of the distance that would have been traveled on the Prime Material Plane. 

Persons experienced with the Spirit Plane learn to mark their point of entry with one of their possessions from their home plane. This signpost will allow the traveler to return to their exact point of entry, rather than be catapulted hundreds of miles off course. A traveler who wants to find the direction to a signpost must make a DC 15 Knowledge (the planes) check A signpost must be left each time the traveler enters the plane and they cannot be reused, nor can previous signposts be located.

*Time Travel*

The Spirit Plane always returns a creature leaving it to its correct time, so you do not have to worry about weird dilation effects. 

*Nidus*

A nidus is a section of the Spirit Plane that contains a portal to the Positive Energy Plane. These areas have the major positive dominant trait and are very dangerous. 

A creature in a major positive-dominant area must make a DC 15 Fortitude save to avoid being blinded for 10 rounds by the brilliance of the surroundings. Simply being in this area grants fast healing 5 as an extraordinary ability. In addition, those at full hit points gain 5 additional temporary hit points per round. These temporary hit points fade 1d20 rounds after the creature leaves the major positive- dominant plane. However, a creature must make a DC 20 Fortitude save each round that its temporary hit points exceed its normal hit point total. Failing the saving throw results in the creature exploding in a riot of energy, killing it.


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## Gideon (Dec 17, 2003)

Thank you  for the quick and helpful response.

Next, you work at a university, can you convince them that finals are the bane of all existence?


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## CleverName (Dec 18, 2003)

Gideon said:
			
		

> Thank you  for the quick and helpful response.
> 
> Next, you work at a university, can you convince them that finals are the bane of all existence?




Actually, *I have* convinced everyone, but your university...sorry. 


Buona Fortuna, Gideon!


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## CleverName (Jan 7, 2004)

*Adventure 19*

Secrets of The Ard Nathrach
...or Copoc Gets the Munchies...
by Malcomb (Remi Treuer)

"I must be insane!" I thought as I ran down the hall after the Dragon who had wounded me so terribly just moments before. I heard a great Splash and Kuldar's curse. Gudlag was just ahead of me, and, after a slight pause to confer with me, we both dove in, he as a porpoise, and myself, trusting in the magic of the torc around my neck, as a salmon. We swam frantically through the underwater cavern Cyranog had escaped into; coming to an opening, we breached the surface of the cool cave water, and took a quick glance around what must have been Cyranog's lair. Piles of coins, and busted chest, and many other items lay scattered around the dank hole, but Cyranog was nowhere to be seen. We continued our way along the underground river, and it finally burbled up from underground, the sunlight almost blinding me. Once again, no Cyranog. He must have gotten away.

We swam back towards the cave, and came upon Copoc, Andreas, and Dario swimming towards us under the effects of a water breathing spell. We all came up in Cyranog’s lair, and, warily, lest the Dragon had become invisible again, advanced on the hoard of treasure. We didn’t meet a blast of acid, and continued toward the huge pile of coins, and . . . a coffin.

The coffin had clearly been opened before, but before curiosity got the best of me, I turned and asked Andreas, “Where’s Kuldar?”

“He ran off towards that sealed portcullis instead of joining us underwater.”

“Ah well, what he doesn’t know what hurt him, eh?” I said, and broken into a wide grin, my hand sweeping around the room of loot. I then turned back to the coffin, and did a cursory check for traps. The top of the coffin appeared to have been ripped off a long, long time ago. Any traps had been set off then. Gudlag examined it with his magical vision, and inside the coffin there was a powerful magical force. We pried the top off the coffin, and revealed a body, clearly human, still armored in a beautiful set of plate armor and holding a sword. I checked the body, and again came up with nothing. I noticed Andreas glancing over the various symbols and signs etched on the corpses accoutrements.

“By Logos, it can’t be! This is a body of a knight of Saint Uriah, the demon-slayer! The inscription reads ‘Selucius Megas Tagaris.’ ”

“Excellent!” I exclaimed, “Who better to find before fighting a demon?”

Andreas glanced at me, and wrinkled his head in thought, “What is an iconian knight, in so ancient a livery doing so far into Faerie? His coffin was moved here recently, but he has been dead at least two hundred years -- maybe more”

“According to legend he came to the Cimbri lands to help fight a terrible demon. He apparently succeeded, but was never heard from again. This must be his famed sword.”

Dario reached into the coffin and lifted the sword from the dry corpse’s hands. It immediately began to glow brightly. 

"A Holy weapon of St. Uriah,” he whispered, in awe. 

Gudlag rolled his eyes out of sight of the humans, but we all nodded, hoping we’d find more answers if we explored the rest of Cyranog’s cave. We collected the nearly 8,000 in gold (in various currencies) and swam back to main cave. Dario took the weapon and armor -- with a prayer to the knight and their shared god. When we emerged, Kuldar was nowhere to be seen, but the portcullis gate was smashed to bits, so it wasn’t hard to surmise where he was.

There was a stairway downwards, which we dutifully descended. At the bottom there was a thick, sweet smoke coming from several torches and braziers. I had to fight off the wooziness, as did the others, or so I thought. A look that could only be described as… a grin, spread across Copoc’s face. His inscrutable expression seemed wide, and placid.

“Are you alright, Copoc?” Gudlag asked.

“I’m just fine, just fine…” hissed our now-baked lizard companion.

We pressed ahead and came to a large room with four cages in it. Three of the cages held Cimbri of various stripes, while the last held a pack of stoned, yet still surly dwarves. Kuldar was trying to bring the dwarves out of the stupor caused by the sweet smoke (the smell reminded me of that old dwarven grandma’s cave back in Adaroth), but had not yet freed them. I fiddled with the locks, and freed them. The dwarves piled out and thanked Kuldar effusively. The largest was Tokar — the forgemaster that Kuldar had been whining about ever since we met him.

We then turned our collective attention to the other cages of captives. When we addressed the cage with only four Cimbri in it, they smiled and changed into 30-foot-long snakes with huge ram’s horns! We had finally found the Ard Nathrach! I immediately freed them, and, assured by the Ard Nathrach that the other captives were their retainers and friends, released them, as well.

The leader of the Ard Nathrach was named Tyrell, and he told us that the sword Dario was carrying belonged to an ancient Iconian hero,  who had come to help the Ard Nathrach put down a terrible demon named Galavesh. The hero defeated Galavesh – driving him into the tomb, but at the cost of his own life. The Ard Nathrach had buried the knight with great honor, and continued living, even though Galavesh had severely reduced their numbers.

“Why did you need an Iconian to help you?” I asked, “You guys are huge!”

“We are large, and though our aspect is fearsome, we are a peaceful people,” he replied, “We are healers, not fighters. Moreover, this creature that we call the Donas Nathair, the devil serpent, had a hide that protected it against our most powerful weapons and our spells were often ineffectual as well. Our king, Bel, cast a mighty ritual and asked the Fates for a weapon to defeat the beast. He had a vision of a human knight – creatures unknown to us at that time – which lived far to the south. Bel and some of the Cimbri Nathrach ventured there and persuaded him to come. He saved us."

I looked abashed, “Where are the rest of your kin?”

“We are the last Ard Nathrach,” Tyrell looked sullenly at the ground, “Galavesh has returned, with the help of his servants Krace. Galavesh murdered all but us, and sacrificed our leader, Bel, tearing his heart out at the altar of his unholy temple.”

The room was thick with emotion.

“We must drive this demon from our midst,” raged Kuldar.

“Indeed!” said Gudlag, “But first we must leave this place and formulate a plan.”

We all nodded our assent, gathered our large party, and set off from the cave into the swamp. Taking Tyrell’s counsel, we discussed our plan of action. Once we were in the swamp Andreas teleported, the forgemaster, and three apprentices, back to Vacomagus. Andreas would speak to the Queen about a plan of attack, and then teleport back to us. Tyrell would remain with us, and the other Ard Nathrach would take the remaining captives we had freed and hide in the swamp. They were apparently very adept at this, and we trusted they could keep out of trouble for the day or two it would take to end this little war. When Andreas reappeared, he brought tidings from the Queen. She had ended the war between the Silures and Brigantes by threatening to join the war on the Silures side if the Brigantes didn’t back off. 

It also turned out that one of the Yuan-ti had impersonated the Brigantes queen and almost succeeded in poisoning the King – we had little doubt our sorceress friend was behind this. Nighean had also assembled the Vacomagus army, and was going to teleport them behind the great fort/roadblock that we had passed earlier, and attack it from behind! They would be attacking tomorrow at noon, in order to give us time to plan.

Andreas also brought us some Resist Poison potions and some oils to anoint our weapons. These oils would align our weapons as Good (as in Divinely Good), and hopefully make them more effective against an objectively Evil creature like Galavesh. We had requested these from Nighean, and, in her wisdom, she bestowed them upon us.

We were quite happy with this turn of events. It would mean that we would not have to deal with that large force, but just the core of Galavesh’s force. If we were lucky it would just be Krace, Bethune, and Cyranog, and, of course, Galavesh itself. With our party together again, Copoc took us, including Tyrell, to the Spirit Plane.

The Spirit Plane was wide, and riotous with color, with immense forests and air filled with pollen and golden dust. There seemed to be no real correlation between our positions in the ‘Real’ world. We healed extremely quickly, wounds closing, shattered bones knitting almost instantaneously. It was creepy, but peaceful. Copoc went about summoning the soul of the dead Ard Nathrach king, Bel, and when he appeared near our camp, at the edge of a small ghostly wood, Copoc spoke with him in whispered, revered tones.

When he returned he told us that King Bell wished us luck, and that we should not attack Galavesh at anything less than full strength. Copoc also clenched his fist and hissed. He finally revealed that Galavesh was the same being who had razed the Kulkan civilization, and helped create the dread Black Kulkans as his servants. This worried us greatly, Copoc was no slouch, and to destroy his kind would be a monumental task. I blanched for a moment at taking on such an awesome foe, but was soon drawn into the planning of our assault.

What we finally settled on was that we would ride Tyrell and Gudlag into the Nathrach town and attack the temple by air. When we touched down, the magic users would cast a number of spells on Kuldar, Dario, and myself. Chief among the spells was enlarge, which would give us both an intimidation and added hit bonuses. We would also be shielded from either Acid or Fire attacks. I would also have Bull’s Strength. Hopefully I wouldn’t be as thoroughly outclassed as I was in our last battle.

Our party healed, and the spellcasters replenished, we came back to our customary plane of existence. We calculated it would take us two hours to reach the Nathrach village, and so we set off just under two hours from the Vacomagi attack. As we came into sight of the village, we heard, far in the distance, war horns sounding. I wished my brethren luck, quaffed my Bull’s Strength potion, and held on. The four guards in front of the multi-tiered temple in the village quailed as they saw us set down and fall upon them with our intense fury.

We quickly disposed of three of the guards, but the fourth ran inside the temple. Kuldar bellowed and ran in after him. A blast of acid caught Dario in the face from inside, and suddenly a lightning bolt hit us from the side! That was Bethune’s signature! She was outside with us, but I could not see her. Kuldar engaged Cyranog, and an old face stepped out from the darkness inside the temple. Gann, my old companion, charged towards me, bellowing. He had changed, though. In addition to the protruding fangs in his mouth, his arms had been replaced by two writhing snakes, holding his customary falchion in their clamped mouths. I stood toe-to-toe with Gann, exchanging blows, barely conscious of what was happening around me. I could hear Gudlag and Andreas chanting and casting. I chanced to glimpse over my shoulder as Gudlag cast a spell that made the outlines of the invisible forms of Bethune and another (must be Krace!) appear in sparkling lights.

I heard Kuldar curse, and wished him luck against his mighty foe. His curses turned to laughter, and I soon heard the clash of his greataxe against the tough draconic hide. Gann continued to pummel me, and I was near my limit, bleeding from a dozen deep wounds, when Gudlag called a small lightning bolt to strike him, and he fell in front of me. That’s when things got really bad. Tyrell, in the form of a great moving tree, was, along with Copoc, engaging Krace. Both were taking mighty damage from the Yuan Ti leader, but he seemed to be worse for the wear. Lightning and fire hit Krace and Bethune again and again, and finally Krace fell, but Bethune gestured and a wall of fire sprung up around our entire party (save Kuldar, who was too far away to be trapped). I almost passed out then and there, but Copoc healed me, and I staggered to my feet. Andreas and Gudlag continued launching spells at Bethune, but she must have had many, many magical shields and charms cast upon her, for none found their mark. I fired my great bow at her, to no avail. Finally, Dario charged through the great flame wall, and began hacking at Bethune. At last she fell under his attack and a volley of fire from Gudlag. At nearly the same time, I heard Kuldar curse again, and, wishing him great luck, heard his cry of dismay turn into a whoop of triumph. The great dragon screamed and fell in a great pile to the floor at almost the same moment Bethune did.

Breathing heavily, I looked at my battered comrades. We had to decide whether to wait, and allow Galavesh the chance to escape (and almost certainly be killed in the encounter), or heal, and give the demon a chance to re-form his forces? All I knew is that I hurt, and that without Galavesh, it would only be half a victory. 

A quick scouring of the bodies of our enemies revealed a trove of treasures:

*Bethune*
Weapons: +1 shortspear, +1 Mithril Chain Shirt
Magic: +2 Ring of Protection, Cloak of Resistance +3, Salve of Slipperiness
Potions: Fly, Cure Serious, Remove Blindness/Deafness
Coin: 2,530

*Krace*
Weapons: +2 Shocking Greatclub, +1 Large chainmail for anathema
Magic: Ring of Mind Shielding, scrolls (create food and water, wind wall [5th caster], restorations [7th caster]), ring of sustenance, elemental Gem: water, Silversheen, Stone salve
	Potions: Cure Serious, Remove Blindness/Deafness
	Coin: 5000

*Gann*
Weapons: +2 Falchion, +1 Mighty Composite Long Bow (+3), +2 Mithril Chain
	Coin: 3000


Copoc reminded us of Bel’s warning and he once again took us into the strange refuge of the Spirit Plane. 

Tomorrow, Galavesh would die, or we would die trying to slay him.


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## CleverName (Jan 14, 2004)

*Adventure #20*

Galavesh Meets His Maker
(Or Merrshaulk Returns to the Drawing Board)

_By Copoc Kitzam_ (David Nickerson)

We spent nearly a day in the Spirit Plane, reposing in its rejuvenating embrace while we formulated our plan of attack. Our many talks with Bel and Gondoc both added to our knowledge of Galavesh and bolstered our courage, but at the same time left us with the distinct impression that we may all very well die. Bel continued to insist that we build our strength and devise strategies that would prepare us for a number of possible mishaps. Gondoc, impatient as always, wanted to attack immediately. I think that he has grown rather fond of Kuldar, especially after the bit with the dragon. At any rate, the time for action was soon upon us. I wanted as much as anyone to end the menace of Galavesh once and for all, but I felt a growing sadness as I ended the Spirit Jump and returned us to the material plane. It had become increasingly difficult for me to leave that wonderful place and I was filled with an intense regret. It soon dissipated however, as we materialized near Krace’s headquarters and I was reminded once more of the atrocities inflicted upon my race by this abomination’s master. The druid Sativola was there, as were many Cimbri warriors. Bodies littered the landscape and it appeared that Sativola was directing an effort to seal the compound. He spied us at once and approached immediately, both relieved and surprised. “We thought you were dead!” 

“A close call,” replied Gudlaug, “but we merely retreated to rest and regain our strength.”

“Excellent work,” Sativola said. He looked us up and down, obviously impressed at what we had accomplished. “We burned the corpses that you left behind.”

“Good idea,” I said, and we all breathed a sigh of relief, plagued as we were by visions of our fallen foes returning.

“Galavesh is inside,” he continued. “We sent in fifteen of our best and brightest warriors to destroy him. They all have perished.” He walked over to a lumpy puddle of goo that vaguely resembled something that once was humanoid and nudged it with his boot. “Melted down by Galavesh’s acidic venom.” Sativola shook his head regretfully. “I summoned a terrible storm to pummel him and he has retreated inside. I entered the compound in rat-form to investigate, but having seen what Galavesh can do I dared not go too deep. We thought it best to seal him inside.”

“That never works,” grumbled Kuldar, “you’ve got to lay into these things with a good solid axe…”

“We believe that we might be able to destroy this monster,” interrupted Gudlaug, and the rest of the party nodded in agreement. Gondoc was salivating blood and urged me to speed things up.

“We must proceed with the utmost of caution,” warned Bel with a no-nonsense intensity.

“Nonsense,” retorted Gondoc. “We’ve all seen how your strategy works.” At this point, his face twisted in agony, Gondoc feigned having a still-beating heart ripped from his chest. All of my ancestor spirits had a good chuckle, and even Kanul Yat Balam seemed to crack a brief smile at Gondoc’s antics. The Ard-Nathrach king, however, was not amused. “And what of your tactics heathen? What price have you ultimately paid for your brash folly?”

“Folly? Whose descendants number in the _tens_ you legless blunder?”

“Knock it off before I dismiss you both,” I said without meaning it, but my ploy seemed to work. I anchored both of these powerful spirits to this reality, and neither wanted to leave before seeing this through. 

Apparently I had spoken rather loudly, for I found that Sativola was studying me intensely. “Who are you talking to?” he inquired. 

“No one,” Gudlaug quickly answered before I could even try to explain the nature of spirits and their relationship to the world around us. “It’s a long story.”

Finally we prepared ourselves to enter the compound. I called upon Gondoc to _enlarge_ Malcolm and Kuldar and to grant _bull’s strength_ to Malcolm and Dario while Xmukane Kan likened my skin to stone. Gudlaug and Andreas placed various protections upon themselves, Dario, and Tyrell. The entrance was very dark and we could hear nothing so Andreas cast _invisibility_ upon Malcolm and charged his favored dagger with a _light_ to prepare him for scouting ahead. Bel had endeavored to give us every possible advantage, and at this point suggested blessing one of the dwarves with his _true sight_. Grasping the Ard-Nathrach tooth that anchored Bel to this plane I allowed the spell to be cast on Gudlaug. Following the spot where we suspected Malcolm might be, we moved down the hall and into a larger room. Andreas recognized this as the place where he had _scryed_ Bethune and Krace days before. There was a door straight ahead of us and also one to the left. We heard a chanting from this direction and suddenly the room was plunged into deep darkness. Invoking his strange yet familiar magics, Gudlaug _dispelled_ the darkness and began preparing to turn the stone door into mud. Just as he completed this task, I convinced Xmukane Kan to _haste_ the entire party. We crept down a short hall that opened into a large room housing the Yuan-ti Anathema, Galavesh. Sprouting six snake-like heads, the creature was hideous and it towered above us all. A large quiver rested upon its back holding several javelin-like weapons that appeared to be crafted from spinal columns. 

Galavesh began taunting us immediately. “Bow before my mightiness and I may allow you to serve as my slaves!” he bellowed. Gondoc was about to explode and his spirit warriors were snarling and snapping like mad. I still could not see Malcolm, but Dario and Kuldar moved closer only to stop and shrink back as they drew near. I gripped my newly acquired shock club and thought wistfully of Yax Che Mal, but I knew that my place would not be on the front lines in this battle At this point Andreas stepped up and was able to counter the _aversion_ that afflicted Dario, Kuldar, and apparently Malcolm. Tyrell moved forward as well and the three warriors surrounded the boastful beast. I could only assume that Malcolm had moved behind Galavesh to gain a flanking advantage. Gudlaug chose this moment to unleash his dreaded _flame strike_, and I fully expected the monster to be reduced to cinders. Unfortunately, when the flames had diminished we could see that Galavesh was annoyed but apparently unconcerned. But we had drawn first blood! He struck at Kuldar, Dario, and Tyrell but missed on all three counts.* “Your pitiful little band cannot harm me,” he prattled to all who cared to listen, “for I am….. Galavessshhh!” He drew out the last syllable, ecstatic to hear the sound of his own name. The Anathema faltered momentarily, however, as our warriors four struck. Weapons glistening with oil and divinely good, each hero left his indelible mark in the creature’s resilient hide. Tyrell ripped a gaping wound and Kuldar’s axe was devastating as always. Malcolm delivered a mighty blow further enhanced by his magical belt and Dario slashed and stabbed with deadly accuracy. I thought for sure this unholy abomination would fall! Alas, he did not. In response to this awesome onslaught his demeanor altered slightly and he seemed to focus on Dario “I remember that sword!” Galavesh gazed with hatred at the Holy weapon of Saint Uriah- the very blade that had once carved his doom. Gondoc was becoming abusive because I had not yet initiated the ritual that would release his kulkan horde, but I did not know the full extent of my companions’ capabilities and thought it prudent to expose any weaknesses that Galavesh might have. Kanul Yat Balam and Bel readily agreed, and Kanul began an incantation to reveal his vulnerabilities. The behemoth took extra damage from Holy weapons, was resistant to electricity, and was immune to acid and poison. I could only hope that this information would prove useful. An acrid smell filled the air as Galavesh lashed out against my comrades, amazingly missing all four.* 

The warriors all retaliated, dealing more damage than I had ever witnessed in a single combat, yet still the brute stood. Gondoc had become insane with rage by this time, and I allowed the swarming pack to pour forth, their teeth and claws phasing in and out of this reality as they rushed toward their intended prey. Gondoc laughed delightedly as his ghost minions ripped and tore into the offensive flesh of Galavesh Once more the creature’s demeanor changed, and this seemingly indestructible horror looked straight at me with penetrating eyes. “I will save you for last shaman!”

Galavesh remained the braggart, but his anger burned and I wondered momentarily if he could see Bel and Gondoc standing beside me. I focused my full attention on directing the spirit warriors!!! Meanwhile, as Kuldar and Tyrell swung away, Galavesh struck once more, grappling and constricting both Dario and Malcolm in two of his serpent-like appendages. We were assaulted by an acrid odor as Galavesh began to muster his deadly acid. The color of his hide changed before our eyes, becoming a little more nauseous if possible, and he brimmed with confidence, unaware that Andreas had imbued my comrades with acid protection.

Gondoc’s death pack converged on Galavesh once more, but he seemed to shrug off the wounds that now covered nearly half of his enormous form. As Gudlaug and I discussed the possibility of unleashing some elementals to put more pressure on Galavesh, Andreas blasted our foe with a ray of enfeeblement. I had seen this powerful spell work previously on Cyranog and it proved just as debilitating to the Yuan-ti Anathema, allowing Malcolm to break free and roll to safety. Kuldar and Tyrell continued their attempts to free Dario while Andreas prepared a feeblemind spell. Exuberant as they were to exert themselves in the material world, Gondoc’s warrior minions were becoming frustrated and yearned to attack the nearest and most vulnerable targets. It took all of my concentration to keep them locked in on Galavesh. They clawed and chewed at the towering monstrosity, unaffected by the acid that gushed from wounds as they tore off strips of scaly flesh. The feeblemind failed, but Andreas was desperate to save his bodyguard and finally he put Galavesh down with an empowered scorching ray. We all stared at the demonic fiend, not believing that it was truly over. I was shaken briefly as I imagined (?) two small bits of stringy meat moving ever so slowly toward the core of the carnage. Was it regenerating? Illusion or not, it was soon dispelled, as Kuldar, Malcolm, and Dario pulverized the corpse with axe and sword. As we moved out of the chamber to investigate the door we had seen earlier, Gondoc stood fast over the heaping mound of shredded flesh and entrails, arms folded across his massive chest. He looked perplexed. “What, we’re not eating?”

The door was indeed trapped, but Malcolm disabled a device that was designed to drop the room’s very floor. Thankful to avoid the unknown perils below, we moved into a small alcove filled with scrolls. These proved to hold vast amounts of valuable information. Eight of them comprised the diary of Krace, interspersed with alchemical formulae and drawings. We determined immediately that we would destroy any formula that revealed the recipe for demon’s breath. The diary was written in both Yuan-ti and common.

 From skimming the scrolls we learned that ten years ago the Emperor of Navinda, a Yuan-ti city in Akkadia, decided to send an expedition to Skia Thalassa. He chose Krace, a respected priest of Merrshaulk; Wulvera, one of his most trusted spies; and Ophia, one of his courtiers. Unknown to the other two, Krace had motivations other than the spread of “scaly supremacy” and the undermining of the Akkadian Princes’ wealth from the distant West. He wished to locate an ancient evil, the Anathema known as Galavesh. Wulvera settled in Kostelna and set about taking over the prostitution and drug business. Ophia ensconced herself with the Three Mothers- notably dwelling in a floating palace/port called the Shadow Barge. 

When Wulvera and Ophia learned of Krace’s plans to unleash Galavesh, they drove him from the “nest” leadership. He had hoped to return to their good graces via the Demon’s Breath formulae. Adept and determined, Krace managed to strike up a friendship with the Nathrach and eventually learned the whereabouts of Galavesh’s prison (an old barrow) in the swamps. While searching for the barrow, Krace encountered a black dragon named Cyranog. They formed an alliance and the dragon helped Krace and his followers to free Galavesh Krace turned Cyranog into a ti-halat, and Galavesh gave it the scaly skin graft-making the dragon’s armor almost invulnerable. Cyranog moved its treasure into the old tomb, becoming a warden for Krace’s prisoners and a guardian for the holy weapon that Galavesh fears.

About two months ago, two of the Yuan-ti purebloods that escaped the temple in Kostelna came to Krace and told him of Wulvera’s fate and the adventurers that killed her. They also warned Ophia, the third Yuan-ti leader who lives with the Three Mothers.

Ophia and Krace set about hunting down Wulvera’s murderers. They mostly used Bethune and Cryda for this, but there were reports from unnamed spies and it seemed like Ophia had also joined the search. They were never able to locate the sorcerer Makar, but found Gann in Ulforsi, and Copoc and Malcolm in Jormunsteinn. They captured Gann, tortured him, and converted him to the cause.

I thought of our first encounter with Cryda and felt a rush of guilt. Although disguised at the time, I had helped to reveal our location when I spoke my true name. This had subsequently led to an ambush by Bethune. I would have to be more careful in the future, but truly, who could have imagined that Copoc was such an uncommon name among the mammals? 

We were also fortunate enough to discover new information from the scrolls concerning Galavesh- the chosen of Merrshaulk. Three scrolls were of Kulkan skin and written in Kulkan script. They were difficult to decipher, but revealed that Galavesh was driven out of his birthplace, Navinda, by nobles who were obviously jealous of his power and majesty and resentful of his rightful rule as their god-emperor He fled the West on a ship and discovered a large city of Kulkans called Tikul on a snow-capped and mountainous volcanic isle.

Outside of the city Galavesh encountered a nesting pair of black dragons in some swampland Some escaped Kulkan slaves from Tikul were living with the dragons as their servants Galavesh used magic and potions to turn them all into his worshippers, and then helped to foment a revolt among the slaves of the Tikul, bringing hundreds into his power. He then used scaly skin grafts and the sorcery of the dragons to transform several of the Kulkan slaves into great warriors. They proceeded to sack Tikul and forced the rightful rulers into the swamps. For a period of about five years the Black Kulkans held sway, turning the tables on their former masters. 

Eventually a hero arose among the dispossessed Kulkans driven from Tikul. His name was Gondoc After several failed attempts to unite his people and drive off the Black Kulkans and their new God Galavesh, Gondoc called upon one of the nearly forgotten dark gods of the Kulkans, Chac: the Blood Rain. Gondoc used his newfound powers to route the Black Kulkans and destroy Galavesh’s most prized and evil creation- the Black King. But the price was terrible. Gondoc’s own two children were sacrificed to Chac. Galavesh cursed the city to never flourish again and fled north this time, swimming eventually into Skia Thalassa. 

I was both shocked and disappointed. Gondoc’s sacrifice seemed severe and also quite insane! I remembered being warned as a child of the horrors of Chac and the Blood Rain. No rational being would ever dare to approach this dark god! But then no one had ever accused Gondoc of being rational! I considered the dire circumstances and determined that I was not qualified to judge him. After all, the future of my entire race hung in the balance and the scales had been tipped in favor of Galavesh and the Black Kulkans. I was just thankful that I had not been forced to face Chac and the Blood Rain! Few can comprehend such evil, powerful enough to swallow Galavesh whole and spit his black bones in the face of Merrshaulk

We walked out into the sunlight to find Sativola and his Cimbri preparing once more to seal the compound. Myra, the Siluri Ambassador to the Vacomagus Court, was also present. Everyone was surprised as we emerged, and there were hushed whispers as monies were exchanged. Gudlaug approached an unbelieving Cimbri, lighter now by several weeks pay, and said “Never bet against the dwarves!”

Questions filled the air and I unwisely suggested to my comrades that we ask White Dragon about the Shadow Barge. “You guys know a dragon?” asked a very loud Cimbri. Sativola was staring at me once again.

“White Dragon is just a nick name,” Andreas assured everyone, covering once more for my slippery tongue.

“Yessss,” I added, “a very knowledgable fellow.” Gudlaug quickly agreed. Luckily, such a close call reminded us all of our surroundings. Collectively we made a mental note to carefully monitor what was said in mixed company. We were somewhat relieved when Sativola dispatched some Cimbri to burn the remains of Galavesh. Whispers of white dragons continued amongst the remaining Cimbri warriors however.

Myra offered to teleport us all to Vacomagus for a celebration. This invitation was well received to be sure, but we announced that first we must retrieve our ship and attend to a few other pressing matters. “Well let’s get the talking ship and go!” blurted Kuldar. 

“You guys have a talking ship?” inquired another very loud Cimbri. Soon everyone was chattering excitedly about talking ships. “Strong dwarven ale’” Gudlaug suggested with a smile. Sativola did not appear entirely convinced.

We were all exhausted and what followed seemed a blur. Kuldar, having successfully completed his assignment, teleported back to Vacomagus with Myra. Andreas teleported Gudlaug to Medoc so that he might convince the Rogulkan captain Vykos to take his troops into Siluri lands and annihilate anything that even remotely resembled a snake. Sativola grew feathers and flew away. When Andreas and Gudlaug returned we had a serious discussion about how best to deal with Kuldar’s blunder and the growing “talking ship” buzz.

My mind wandered. Kanul Yat Balam reminded me of the very first spirit that I had ever cajoled, a mischievous chaoswisp named Gopas. He had served me well and his only wish had been that I aid him with his practical jokes. On several occasions we had arranged elaborate rituals centered on the burning of vision weed. We had then set about making my spiritblind brethren believe they could now see the spirits! Gopas had then cast his spells and we shared many laughs as rocks and bushes called out the children’s names and sent them on silly quests 

“Magic mouth,” I suggested. “Problem solved.”

Everyone agreed and Andreas teleported off to procure a wand of magic mouth to attach to white Dragon’s rigging.

Soon we had boarded White Dragon. He was not pleased with Kuldar’s indiscretion, but seemed at least temporarily satisfied with our solution. After hearing our adventures and of the ensuing battle with Galavesh, White Dragon surprised us by revealing that he had decided to go ahead and test the shadow sail. He was weary from its use, but informed us that it indeed provided a means of entering and traveling through the Shadow Plane. Gudlaug was anxious to try it as well and read a few pages from the instruction manual. We immediately phased into the Shadow Plane, and I must say that it was a most wretched place! It was dark, and cold, and everything seemed shrouded within an impenetrable mist. I was able to communicate with Kanul Yat Balam, Gondoc, Bel, and Ikali Mox, but my lesser spirit allies seemed to fade away. They all urged me to leave and I agreed with their assessment. This place was the antithesis to the comfort and splendor of the Spirit World. I felt as if I were trapped, suffocating. I shivered uncontrollably. It was similar to the way I felt performing the summoning ritual for Dalas Salik…

Gudlaug read some more text and brought us out of the Shadow Plane. He was thoroughly exhausted, but satisfied with his mastery of the transition ritual. I was very happy to be home and sailing for Vacomagus.

We arrived in the Cimbri city already heroes! Queen Nighean feasted us and granted us boons. She offered us aid, free passage through her fair city, and also said that we would always be welcome to stay in her court. Malcolm was commissioned as a captain in the Vacomagus “Navy.” All in all we were treated as royalty. We told our tale over and over and were questioned incessantly about the Yuan-ti, Galavesh, and talking ships! I was most grateful when the Queen agreed to pass along any information she might receive concerning the location of Tikul We all agreed that our first order of business would be to locate and destroy Ophia. We would spend a month or so in Vacomagus, sort through our treasure, and then hunt down the last of the Yuan-ti “nest” and the Three Mothers

This having been decided, I asked my comrades for their future aid in locating the lost city of Tikul. Despite their many obligations, Andreas and Dario agreed to help “Of course, of course,” Malcolm proclaimed, raising his wine glass in a toast. “You have been a fast friend Copoc.”

“Copoc is never fast,” Gudlaug replied, joining the toast. 

“Well now, that would depend on how long I’ve been in the sun wouldn’t it?” I corrected. 

For unexplained reasons my friends thought I had delivered some sort of punch line. They laughed and laughed but refused to explain the joke. I swear I will never understand mammals!


**GM NOTE:* I hit a few more times than reported, but not much more. As with any of the fights at the climax of a story arc, I make my rolls in the open. Most of the time I needed something like a 6-8 on the die to hit, and true to Copoc's tale *most* of the time I missed! 

Ack! 

Even *Keith* (Andreas'player) was rollin' better than I, and that's saying *a lot*!

 So it goes sometimes...


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## CleverName (Jan 14, 2004)

David, 

You did a great job with this. I especially love the fight between Bel and Gondoc.


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## CleverName (Jan 21, 2004)

*Adventure 21*

Draconic Rashômon

_*GM's NOTE:* The last session was one in which I pulled out each PC for a bit of solo gaming as the party went through a month's downtime. I asked each player to write up their experiences. Unfortunately, we got some mixed news. Remi found a job, but it will mean that he will be out of the game for at least a month or two._

*Andreas' Telling (Keith Martin)*

Andreas shifted nervously from foot to foot, awaiting his audience with Queen Nighean. The typically silver-tongued wizard was unaccustomed to dealing with someone in her position, and he feared his glibness would desert him. Even in Iconium, his home, where he was well versed in the customs and protocols of the Nobility, he was unaccustomed to dealing with actual Royals. In the court of the queen of the Vacomagi, he was entirely out of his element. He tried to pay attention to the matter currently before the court, but was unable to keep his thoughts on the affairs of the cimbri. He thought again on his unexpected discovery of a Logosian shrine right here in the heart of eastern faerie.

He was on his way to the docks to confront a certain cursed White Dragon with a few insights he’d had when he noticed it for the first time – a small archway, and beyond, a simple mosaic figure on the wall, a figure of St. Attalus. A warrior-saint so puissant that the bodyguards of the High King of the Faerie had declined to slay him when they might have, out of respect for his skill at arms and devotion in battle, Attalus was well known as the foremost warrior of the early days of the Iconian empire. Andreas himself revered Decius, the Saint that had devised (or stolen, as the fae would have it) the secrets of arcane lore, previously the domain of the fae alone, and made them available to man forever afterwards. But he could not fail to recognize the Patron of Paladins, with the famous flail in one fist and the ever-present tankard of ale in the other. As he watched, a young human stepped out of the doorway, dropping a few silvers into the plate as he did so. Andreas, of course, could hardly pass by without at least investigating.

The shrine itself was small, simple, and somewhat sparse – Attalus, Andreas thought, would approve, assuming of course that at least one convenient tavern was nearby. The cleric was a middle aged man with a long cimbri-style braid, named Christobel.  Andreas conversed with the man for far longer than he’d intended. As they spoke of various matters – the priest’s cimbri wife, his past as an adventurer, the blind eye turned towards his church by Queen Nighean in exchange for his failure to proselytize, a thought came to Andreas.

“Tell me, Father, even though we are in faerie, this place where we stand, it’s holy ground, yes?”

“Indeed it is. Consecrated by the Bishop of Ephesium when the church was founded. It is hallowed ground whereupon any rite of the church may be performed.” Andreas thought a moment. “Any rite, you say?” 

“Yes” the cleric replied. “Any rite requiring a sanctified location. Marriage, confession, confirmation . . .” 

“Burial? What of burial?” Andreas said. “Well, yes. If need be.” The priest said. “Though few of the faithful have passed here in Vacomagi, and as most are sailors they typically are buried at sea . . .”

“Father,” Andreas began, “You may know a story of a knight of the Holy Order of St. Uriah, the slayer of demons, who supposedly passed into faerie and out of human knowledge many years ago. I know the truth of that story.”

The priest’s eyebrows arched in interest. “Do go on, my on. I suspect you have much to tell me.”

Andreas was startled from his thoughts by the sudden clash of arms. Spears on shields were not a sound he was expecting in court. He reached reflexively for the leather pouch of reagents at his belt and brought to mind the words and gestures of a half-dozen abjurative enchantments. He had excused Dario for the day, certainly not expecting to need a bodyguard in the court of the queen herself. Suddenly he realized that no one else seemed the least concerned. No panic, no shouts of fear or outrage, indeed the queen’s guards had not moved a muscle. The sound he’d heard was that of a retinue of some Cimbri noble – he wracked his brains to remember the man’s name even as the herald was announcing him to the court. “Really” Andreas mused to himself. “Now comes the interminable bragging before he gets to the point – some neighboring lord has stolen half his calves, or something, and he seeks redress.” Andreas thought on his plans to recover the remains of the ancient knight of St. Uriah from the lair of the dead drake Cyranog and inter them in the little church. The priest had seemed quite pleased when he’d offered to pay for the project himself.

Dragonkind had played a prominent role in his life lately, he thought. Or at least, dragonkind and faux-dragonkind had. He tried to concentrate on the complaint of the faerie lord before the queen – he was wrong, it was sheep in dispute, not cattle. “Must have been some damn spectacular sheep to bring it all the way to the queen herself” he mumbled. “The lord, he’s her favorite” the Cimbri next to him said in accented Iconian, and with horror Andreas realized he’d mumbled aloud. “They were raised together” the man went on. “there’s some as say he and she have been more than just sovereign and subject, if ye take my meaning” he leered. Andreas did his best to appear uninterested. Queen Nighean was the powerful monarch of a sophisticated realm, but in many ways her court seemed quite rustic to the Iconian, though they would no doubt be equally put off by the eness formalities of human politics. He tried to concentrate on the phrasing of his request, but not surprisingly, his mind wandered again and again to the revelation that the White Dragon, the ship he and his companions had sailed the Skia Thalassa on, had made to him earlier in the day.

Of the crew that had originally befriended the White Dragon, Andreas was personally familiar with only Malcom and Copoc, the lizard-man. He gathered that a human paladin had briefly been privy to the secret of the talking, cursed ship, but the unfortunate knight had been slain in a confrontation with a sea hag during that episode. Another wizard had apparently known about her as well, but of his fate no one seemed to know much. When Gudlaug and Andreas had been rescued by, and then befriended and joined forces with Copoc and Malcom, they had been made privy to the secret as well, and both had sworn never to reveal it, as nearly had the loose-tongued dwarf Kuldar.

Since that time, Andreas had come to regard the ship as something of a friend. It had been instrumental in the destruction of the sea-hag Abashag, the same fiend who’d slain the paladin – Theon, his name suddenly came back to Andreas, Theon Agricola. But even beyond that act, The White Dragon had in all ways been a trustworthy and faithful companion. Even so, all Andreas knew of the thing was that it was not really a ship at all, but was in fact some other manner of thing under a dread and powerful curse. The others had told him of how they’d slain a giant and fed its heart to the White Dragon, thus breaking one-third of the curse, but beyond that he knew little of the creature – or had known little, prior to that very morning.

Andreas tried again, with little success, to pay attention to the court of Queen Nighean. Now she was hearing a complaint between two sorcerers, the issue of the missing sheep having been settled, at least for the moment. Andreas’ command of the fae tongue was good enough to get by on most of the time, but the subtleties of court language escaped him. He could not fully understand the nature of the complaint, even though he suspected he might be intrigued by the details. He wondered what the two arcanists would think if they knew of the shape-changed, cursed creature floating as a ship in the harbor below. He thought again on the course of reasoning that had led him to confront the White Dragon that morning, and of the conversation that followed  . . .

“Clearly, and I mean no disrespect by this, but clearly, you, ah - you are no dragon at all.” The serpentine masthead regarded him with eyes cold and black as the bottom of the sea itself. “I am not an expert, exactly, but I know a little of the ways of dragons, white dragons not least of all, and they are – well, to put it bluntly, white dragons are ruthless, stupid and altogether violent. Not like you at all, really.”

“Was crushing Abashag to paste not violent enough for you, mageling? I can arrange another demonstration if I must.” The masthead-dragon smiled, but Andreas frowned. “Not at all, it was quite – aggressive. And what’s more, a little too clever for a true white dragon, who would have breathed forth her breath upon the thing, perhaps, even despite my having already pointed out that she was warded against cold. Furthermore, you’ve had any number of opportunities to betray us, and you’ve not done so - also rather un-draconic. Or at least, not very appropriate for ‘Draco Blanco’, if you take my meaning.”

The back orbs were unreadable, but Andreas imagined that the dragon-ship rolled its eyes in a good natured way. “You are my friends, if I may say so. One does not betray one’s true friends. You as well have been faithful to your promise to me, yes?” It was not really a question, for the ship was well aware that, despite the carelessness of Kuldar, its secret remained safe. Andreas smiled. “Yes indeed, though that does not weaken my argument at all – white dragons do not exactly make friends of humans, half-elves and dwarves. Snacks, certainly, slaves, possibly, but friends – never.”

“Perhaps I am an exceptional white dragon.” The ship replied, although from the tone of its voice Andreas knew he was on the right track. “Or perhaps” the wizard replied “you are, as I said, no dragon at all. Who – or what – are you, really? Surely by now you’ve no fear left that we will betray your secret. As you said, friends – true friends – do not behave thus.” The ship stirred uncomfortably, the water of the harbor slapped its sides softly. Andreas glanced about, but no-one was near enough to have overheard or noticed.

“Gather the others” the White Dragon replied. “What I have to say is for them to hear as well. But be warned, though – you may not like what you are about to learn. You may not like it at all.”

“You may approach, barbarian.” 

Andreas was startled from his recollections of the White Dragon’s troubling revelation. The Queen’s herald was addressing him, he realized. He gathered the folds of his robe and approached, bowing just deeply enough, or so he hoped. With sudden relief, Andreas felt his old confidence return – he was a wizard of the College, educated and studied in the lore of the fae, not some sycophantic courtier or fawning nobleman. He knew he could be persuasive without offending the faerie queen, and she was already predisposed to favor him. Yet he would need to be glib, for the favor he had in mind to ask of her was no trifle. The fae guarded the remaining secrets of their magic from the human empire very jealously, and his request for new magic unknown in Iconium was a bold one. What would she think, he wondered, if she knew that which he himself had learned scant hours before? That even as they spoke in her court, one of her oldest and most dangerous foes, indeed the very same Three Mothers assassin that had slain her own uncle, was currently afloat as a white ship with an exquisite draconic figurehead in her very own harbor? Pushing these thoughts from his mind, Andreas knelt on one knee at Nighean’s feet and began his plea.

“Your Grace, I crave a boon . . .”



*Gudlag's Telling 
A Month in Vacomagus*

_Continuing the Journals of Gudlaug Hamarson _(Jon Hanna)


After the group had spent some days feasting with the queen and her court, we were allowed to get back to a more restful situation.  I spent a few days wandering around the city, getting to know where I was.  I have not spent too much time in large Cimbri cities, so I found the time enjoyable.

Andreas called me down to the boat one evening.  He desired to have a conversation with “White Dragon,” and did not want the conversation to be overheard.  I cast my Natural Sounds spell on us so that the conversation would sound like the squawks of seagulls and the like.  The conversation with the boat proved interesting.  So interesting in fact that I went and retrieved the other party members, so that they could be a part of it.  We learned that the boat is not now, nor has ever been a dragon of any type.  It turns out that he was a Rolgulkan assassin prince who worked for the Three Mothers.  They had cursed him for some bit of personal treachery decades ago.  Over the course of the last 75 years or so, he has mellowed in his desire to be a killer, and just wants to have the curse removed.  We all agreed to help him finish this quest.  We will definitely need his experience with the Three Mothers in our quest to hunt down the final Yuan-ti, Ophia.

A few days later I decided that I would cross over into the Shadow Plane, and scout the area in and around Vacomagus.  Knowing that the Three Mothers liked to use the Shadow Plane for their travel, I wanted to be sure that they didn’t have agents lurking there.  When I got to the dark plane, I did notice large strange bird creatures that were lurking around.  They kept their distance from me, and I from them.  The Shadow Plane version of this city turned out to be less dark and disturbing than the area around Tavia, the human city where I lived for awhile.  Vacomagus itself is not that old.  There was a ruined city on the other side of the river from the current city, which had many shades wondering around in it.  I did not go there. 

I went to where the Queen’s residence would be, and found a barrow.  I did not examine it too closely.  Some things are best left undisturbed.  I then went to where the druid’s grove was, and found a very thick, deep bit of forest.  It was guarded by Shadow bears, which recognized me as a druid, and therefore no threat.  It seems that Sativola and the other local druids use this place as a secret hiding place, in case they need to evacuate Vacomagus in a hurry.  They have stores of fresh food and water there.  The Bears had seen no unusual activity.

Then I went around other points in the city to see if there was anything amiss.  I discovered that there was a version of the Ley here in the Shadow Plane.  This was the magical road that members of the queen’s court could use to travel around the city quickly and safely.  Now I got a notion of how it worked.  Here there was a version of the Ley following the same path as the golden street in Vacomagus.  This one was made of bones laid end-to-end.  It seems that the sorcerers are tapping into the power of the Shadow Plane to speed up their travel.  Interesting.  I went back to my natural plane at this point.

The next day I met up with Sativola in the grove.  He had some questions for me regarding our boat, as I knew he would.  He knew that the boat was more than just a ship with Magic Mouth cast on it, and wanted to be sure that there was no danger there to Vacomagus or the queen.  I assured him that to my knowledge there was no threat, and that the only reason we had acted so strangely when Kuldar mentioned our talking boat was that we, Kuldar included, had sworn an oath to not talk about it.  He accepted this, but warned me that the Three Mothers were actively seeking out magic boats, and buying them.  He said that it was dangerous for the information about the boat to spread.  I agreed, and told him that the Three Mothers situation was exactly why we had been sworn under oath to remain silent.

I spent the rest of the month in comfort at the grove with Sativola and the other druids, and recovered from our resent exertions.

*
Copoc's Telling 

Conversations with Guardian Spirits and Varnian Kings

(Or Chatting with Kanul and White Dragon) *
(David Nickerson)

	For the most part I had a terrific time in Vacomagus, pondering my boon and touring the city with Malcolm.  We no longer had access to the Ley and I was able to experience many aspects of Cimbri life.  Despite a prevailing uneasiness that we were being observed by Ophia or one of her spies, I remained preoccupied with determining the location of Tikul.  I asked many Cimbri sailors and was offered several possible locations.  It seemed there were many volcanic islands that fit the description I had.  No one, however, was aware of any lost Kulkan city, and in fact the general consensus seemed to be that Kulkans lived as tribes or in small villages and didn’t build cities.  Gondoc claimed to know the exact coordinates, but when questioned further I was convinced that he knew nothing of navigation and was just bloodthirsty and itching to cause trouble somewhere.

	Gudlaug informed me that Sativola had a brother in the city of Iconium that had access to the Ambassador’s Palace, so I decided to pen a letter to Brone.  I still had reservations about him despite his aid in our battle with Wulvera, but I thought it only fair that he be warned.  Without revealing the names of my accomplices, I informed him that the purveyor of Demon’s Breath, Krace, had been flushed out and killed.  I also told him about the scrolls and that we were being hunted by Ophia.  I did not reveal that his name had been suspiciously absent from Krace’s diary.  I also asked him if he planned to rejoin us and if he had any information concerning the lost Kulkan city of Tikul.  Perhaps this was the true reason that I had written.  I still await a response.

	Many days I spent on the beach, swimming and hunting with Balamob.  I had ample time for research and preparing my rituals and subsequently was successful in summoning and retaining two new spirits.  The first was Otema.  She was a kulkan and a great priestess of Ogokwu, the god of sanctuary and healing.  Otema gave me a crystal prism to anchor her spirit and to direct her healing powers.  Honestly I don’t know much of Ogokwu.  As shamans grew in power my race seems to have lost touch with the old gods.  I know of Shabok Gali’, the moon goddess, only from my dealings with Xoholos Xulu and other ancestor spirits.  Unfortunately I also remember Chak.  I was terrorized as a child by stories of Chak and his Blood Rain Cult and find myself quite shaken to learn of his involvement with Gondoc.  That is why I have also summoned Bombaska, the Burning Sun.  Such a great and powerful spirit may prove useful if my future is indeed tainted by the touch of Chak.  I wear Bombaska’s golden medallion even now, and it burns with an intense warmth, as if it has absorbed the very rays of the sun.

	Several days ago I retreated to my chambers to meditate deeply and consult with Kanul Yat Balam.  To my surprise he dismissed my entire entourage with a wave of his hand and then manifested before me.  He looked much older on this plane, and deadly serious.

	“You have done well my brave young shaman,” he spoke, “to seek after our lost Tikul.  You have found your true path, but you cannot do this alone.”

	“I have found many powerful allies,” I responded, “both here and in the Spirit World.”

	“Yessss…..” Kanul seemed to pause in thought.

	“You must lead me to this city so that I may uncover our heritage.”

	“All in good time Copoc.  There are many riddles yet to unravel.  Much information must you  attain.  Events must transpire as foreseen.”  Kanul paused again, his eyes glassy.  “The board is set and now the pieces move to assume their rightful place in destiny.”

	“I doubt you not Kanul, but you must give me more…something I can sink my teeth into!”

	“Very well Copoc.  Perhaps you are ready.  First you must know that the curse of Galavesh has prevailed.  The exact nature of this curse, its precise wording, is unknown even to me.  But make no mistake- Galavesh did not do this alone.  Chak is up to his eyeballs in the blood of our kin!”

	“But how?  Gondoc paid the dark god’s price when he sacrificed his firstborn children!”

	“Little is understood about their actual pact, and attempts to attain this information have only enraged Gondoc.  He is merely a shell now of his former self.  I do know that when he died his children rose as vampires.  Many of our people were slaughtered outright and the survivors were driven from Tikul.  Chak’s Blood Rain Cult devastated our once great empire and made the reign of Galavesh seem like a short bask on a sunny shore.”

	“So Gondoc is responsible for our plight?”

	“In part, yes.  But it is also prophesized that Gondoc may lift the curse.  He must destroy his  children again, and you Copoc, must allow him to do this.”

	“And then the curse will be ended?  Our great city will be restored to its former glory and our people will be set free?”

	“That is my understanding, yessss…”

	“But how?  How will all of this be possible?”

	“Only you can answer these questions Copoc.  A small group of Kulkans fled to Skia Thalassa after the Blood Rain commenced.  Your ancestors were among these.  And you, my shaman, are a direct descendant of Gondoc.”

	I was in shock and my head was spinning as I searched for answers.  “And how does Dalas Salik fit into all of this?  I have become increasingly convinced that she springs from the Shadow Plane.”

	“She seeks something from that vile dimension.  She may help you, yes.  And your earthly allies.  But her role in the endgame is unclear.”

	“I’ve recently summoned Bombaska to aid us in our future endeavors.”

	“You have done well Copoc, but look not only to the spirits, for our grasp on this plane is tenuous at best.  Seek priests of the Sun God.  Do not underestimate the power of flesh and blood and steel.”

	I sat and meditated for days, reeling still from these revelations.

	Not long after that incident I found myself the recipient of more startling news.  I was having a drink with Malcolm in his favorite tavern when he informed me that he would be taking temporary leave of our company.  As a captain for the Queen he had new duties and responsibilities.  Before I could even try to convince him to stay, Gudlaug burst through the front doors.  “Quickly…the beach,” he rasped  before rushing back outside.

	When we arrived at the beach we found White Dragon.  Andreas was on deck and we boarded just in time for some more surprises.  White Dragon felt that he could trust us now, and revealed that he was actually an ogre-mage and the King of Varnia to boot.  Seventy-five years ago his younger brother had betrayed him, leaking information of his romantic involvement with all three of the Three Mothers!  Apparent lover to the trio, the Rogulkan prince was also their most trusted and deadly assassin.  He was soon captured and cursed, and his treacherous brother went on to become king.  White Dragon’s spirit was trapped in the ship, and that is what I had detected so many months ago.  It was a chain curse, and each of the three components could only be dispelled with willing help-  the act of true friends.  Feeding White Dragon Wodlaw’s heart had broken the first part of the curse and allowed him to speak.  The remaining hexes could be removed only by stealing the loot from the Three Mother’s pet hydra and then getting some beard hairs from a dwarven king (?).  I understood finally why White Dragon’s secret must be kept-  from the Three Mothers and from the Varnian king.  I put my thoughts of  Tikul and Ophia aside and wondered if we would be able to help our friend.  


Malcomb's Telling (Remi Treuer)

Will post ASAP.


Cezar's Story (Wayne Peacock)

I am no dragon, or even a ship -- well I am, cursed to dwell as one by the Three Mothers. Long have a waited to tell my sad, ignoble tale to ones I believe I can trust. 

My true name is Cezar, I am...no, I was a Rolgulkan lord [DMgre-mage], the elder brother of Dimas, the current King of Varnia. I was spoiled and indulged as a youth. I eschewed the rough arts of war that comes naturally to my people and took to the magic of song and power of well spoken word. In this I excelled. 

By the time of my coming of age, I had my father’s court in complete turmoil. I had cuckolded most of the males and driven the rest of the court mad with jealousy or desire. My father gave me a choice -– take the magical boat my father had commissioned for me -- a flying boat that could sail itself – on an extended tour of Skia Thalassa, or begin fighting my own duels. 

Over a hundred years ago I took to the sea, and have never been back to my home, but not out of my own choosing. I bested my old misdeeds a hundred fold; I reveled in my own evil. I used my innate abilities to masquerade as a hundred men, pirated, kill…well, let us say I supped large and unashamedly at the bounty that was around me. I dallied with lojosalfar vixens, parodied Cimbri lords, broke the heart of a frost giant king’s daughter, lightened the treasuries of several dragons and whenever things got too “hot,” well, it’s good to be the favored son of a Rolgukan King… 

My father doted upon me, perhaps wishing for the freedom I had. Few know the burdens of the ogre kings of Rolgulka, or the price for their power. My brother Dimas was left to learn the arts of leadership that I should have been studying…

Finally, as a last act of roguery before setting my sail for home and throne, I took it upon myself to seek out the pirate queens known as The Three Mothers and bend them to my will -– for the sheer bravado of the deed. For a while I was successful, each of the three loved me like no other, but I forgot how hate is the jealous twin of love. 

One morn I awoke from a night of epic debauchery to find myself bound to the mast of my ship, my three lovers debating my fate. They gave me a choice, death or life as their slave and assassin. 
I took the latter, with little forethought at the time. An invisible, flying killer, with my talents was a huge success for them. Fifteen captains died under my knife. Chiefly, you should know, I killed Queen Nighean’s father, then Lord of the Sea for the Vacomagi. But there were others. My evil grew. 

Eventually, I grew tired of their demands as a killer and a lover and so I fled one day towards home. But I was caught and for my “treachery” they cursed me as only a coven of half-demon hags could. They stole my future, my kingdom, my name, my body and my honeyed words from me – binding my body and soul into my prized ship. Furthermore they set three impossible tasks that would have to be fulfilled were the curse to be lifted. Moreover, my tasks could only be performed by true friends, without trickery or deceit on my part. Honesty and honor were all that could save me, and at the time I had none.  

Anezka, the sea hag, said that to regain my voice, I would have to be fed the heart of a giant, since I had no heart of my own.

Tanis, the green hag, said my noble form would be returned to me if a true friend would but  pluck three hairs from the beard of a dwarven king and give them to me.

Marya, the annis, said that to regain my songs and magic, I would have to take back my lute from horde of Decimachus, a half-fiend, ten-headed, lernaen, cryohydra who guards one of the Three Mothers hordes on the ill-fated isle of Kritos. 

To drive my slavery home, I served as a private “yacht” for the hags. They enjoyed showing me off to their evil horde. After several years they gave me to one of their servants, a ljosalfar pirate called Erik. Iconians caught the ljosalfar raiding their ships and in the great sea battle that ensued, Erick was slain. The Iconians sunk me, but did not know I could repair myself. 

I escaped and lived alone for a few years, wallowing in my self-pity and fearful of being another’s slave. Eventually I grew lonely and hopeful that I could escape the curse. Then one day I was cruising near the coast and came upon a Cimbri fishing village. Swimming towards shore was drunk Cimbri cursing fate that his only ship had been lost. I took a chance and appeared before him, and adopted him. For a time I was happy as a mere fishing boat. Gilroy raised a family on fish poured onto my decks and I was prized by him. 

 When I finally revealed my magical nature to the Cimbri, Gilroy foolishly blabbed it all over town after too much drink. Some adventurers found the poor sot and slit his throat on my deck. I killed them all and then fled.

Again I lived alone for many, many years. This time my solitude was ended by another lone swimmer; I rescued a ljosalfar who had been attacked by some of the Three Mothers’ pirates. The alfar, a bard named Hrolfnir, was grateful and never divulged my abilities. Eventually Hrolfnir figured out much of my nature and through some truly humbling questions and answer sessions -- remember I could not talk then -- he discovered my need to eat the heart of a giant. 

Hrolfnir took it upon himself to outfit a crew and go after Wodlaw. But again my hopes were dashed. It was Hrolfnir that was killed by the Demon’s Breath addled pirates just before I met you. It was he that I was avenging when I met  Copoc and Malcomb on Wodlaw's isle. [DM: see Adventure #1.)

So now, you know the bulk of my story. It is simply up to you to aid me or not. I am at your mercy now.


----------



## CleverName (Jan 28, 2004)

*Adventure 22*

The Silence of the Donkeys

_Continuing the Journal of Gudlaug Hamarson_ (Jon Hanna)


We were enjoying our rest in Vacomagus.  It had been about a month since we had killed Galavesh, and everyone seemed to be relishing the down time.  Queen Nighean had loaned us the use of a house in her city, and it was quite comfortable.  On the evening in question, I was in my room on the first floor discussing the day’s events with my rat friend Hal.

“So Hal, what did you do today?  And please don’t tell me you hung out down at the docks again.  You’ll get a reputation that way.”

“Nah,” Hal chattered between bites of a moldy crust of bread I had given him, “ The docks aren’t as exciting as they were now that Big Bertha got the claw.”  Big Bertha was a wharf rat Hal had been seeing on the side.  Unfortunately, a mangy cat got the drop on her a few days previous.  Hal continued, “I’ve been hanging out with the pack down at the palace.  Those guys are in dire straits.  There’s no leadership at all.  They all just kinda mill around listlessly.  There’s nothing sadder than a bunch of listless rats, let me tell you.  I’ve been thinking of getting’em organized, you know, into a cohesive group.  Then they can get things done.”  He popped another glob of mold into his mouth.

“What type of things.”  I nervously asked

“Oh, you know, the usual stuff.  An organized pack of rats can get their point across, in the big picture.  For instance, when you’re in the kitchen at night, and you want to get into the lard tub, 20 rats is much more likely to score than one or two.  Also, they can stand up to the man better.”

“Which man?”

“The cook, and those nefarious dogs of his.  Some kind of rat terriers.”  Hal shook his head in disgust.  “If I have my way, the man won’t be loosing his dogs on us much longer.  I have a plan.”  Hal leaned in closer.  “First, you need to get a ball of string, a single hair from the queen’s pillow, and a greased weasel…”    

At this point, our discussion was cut short by shouts coming from above.  I distinctly heard Dario telling Andreas to stand away from the wall, and Andreas shouting at the top of his lungs for help.  I bolted from the room and headed up stairs.  I arrived at the top of the stairs to see Copoc moving towards the room that Andreas and Dario shared.  As I moved closer, suddenly, a horrible apparition shot forth from the wall and attacked Copoc.  It appeared to be some sort of horrible wraith-like creature.  It had the visage of a Rolgulkan, and was carrying ghostly slaver’s chains with neck irons.  There seemed to be a neck iron for each of us.  

The creature struck at Copoc, missed, and then quickly disappeared through the wall again.  We were all jabbering excitedly and looking around, not knowing where the thing would appear next.  I prepared to cast a Heal spell on it if it got close enough to me, knowing that if I were successful, it would grievously injure an undead creature.  I heard Dario and Andreas yell again from their room.  It was attacking.  Dario got in the way of the Shade and blocked an attack aimed at Andreas.  Copoc started chanting to his spirits, imploring the spirit of some Sun-god worshipper to heed his call.  When the Wraith appeared again, he tried to Turn it, as a cleric would, but was not successful.

“Skink droppingsss!”  Copoc cursed.  “That was my best shot at thisss thing!”

“Enough!”  Andreas shouted from his room.  “Everyone to me.  We are leaving!”  Copoc and I hurried into the room as the Wraith appeared again.  Just in time, Andreas teleported the lot of us down to our boat.  Cezar, our boat, was startled, and his Dragonlike head turned to eye us.  “Quite an entrance.”  He murmured.

“What, by all that’s natural, was that?  I asked Andreas.

“Some type of Wraith, but not a type that I have heard of before.  It was fast.  And it seemed very intelligent.  It knew who we were, and mocked us.”  He looked at Dario.  “Dario was hit by it, and it seemed to drain the very life out of him.”

Dario did look haggard.  Copoc moved to him and began to cast a spell.

“Describe this wraith.”  White dragon was looking queerly at Andreas.

“It was Rolgulkan, and it bore slaving chains.”

White Dragon sighed.  “I know this dread wraith.  It works for the Three Mothers. It was once an ogre magi named Lord Andrej -- a foul creature that sold his own family into slavery. A priestess of Nyag fed him to another wraith two centuries ago, but Andrej has grown even more malevolent in undeath.”  We all were shocked.  None of us had heard of a wraith that moved about that readily, much less hired itself out in a mercenary fashion.

“What doesss it take for payment?”  Copoc asked

“40 lives.” 

We were all silent for a moment.  Braying and shouting coming from the city broke the silence.  “I know that Bray!”  I shouted.  “Gertrude!”  I turned into a hawk and flew straight towards the commotion.  Gertrude was my mule, and my animal companion.  I found her cornered by a group of town’s people.  She was kicking and snapping her teeth at anyone who got too close, braying loudly all along.  I changed from hawk form to dwarf form, and moved towards her.

“Everyone please back away from the mule.”  I told the crowd as I walked up.  They were startled by my appearance, and started talking at once, eyeing me suspiciously.

“That mule was running down the street, being chased by some type of flying shadow!”  A Cimbri man said.  I looked at Gertrude.  Now I could plainly see that she did have the same drained look that Dario had, after having been touched by the creature.

“What happened?”  I asked Gertrude, using my druidical abilities of animal speech.

She was still not calm, and her eyes rolled as she bared her teeth at me.  Finally she said, “A nasty thing came out of the wall at me in my stall!  It hurt!  It hurt!”  She started bucking again, and I tried to calm her.  “I charged the stable door,” She continued,  “I kicked it open and ran.  It followed me and snapped at my tail as I ran.”

A man came pushing through the crowd, and stepped forward.  I recognized him as a human priest of Logos.  I recognized him as someone I had seen Andreas with.  “Father,” I said  “May I speak to you in private?”  He nodded.  I turned to the crowd.  “Please go back to your homes.  There is danger out tonight and you should be home with your families.”

“There was a ghost chasing a mule!  A bad omen!”  A man shouted.  He held a cage with a dead chicken in it.  “My bird died when it flew past!  Evil times! * Evil!*”  He shook the cage and a few feathers fell out.

“My dog ran into the wall of my house and knocked itself out!”  A woman yelled.  She held up a limp cur and shook it at me, its tongue lolling out of its mouth.

“Fine,” I said.  “Go tend to your dog, and you go eat your chicken.  Just go home!”  The crowd began to mumble, but it did disperse.  I turned to the priest.  “I am a friend of Andreas.  I believe I have seen you with him?”

“Yes.  My name is Christobel.  I am a priest of St. Attalus.  Tell me what has happened.”

I told _Christobel_ of the attack at our house, and that the Wraith was different than others I had heard of.  He told me that wraiths could have an effect on animals and insects, and that the presence of a wraith drove living things away and caused great unnatural fear.  I took Gertrude and led  _Christobel_ down towards the docks, where we met up with the others.  Andreas talked to the priest, and it was decided that we should stay at the small church of Attalus for the rest of the night.  We all walked to the building, warily watching around us for shadows.

The next day we went to the court of Queen Nighean.  We thought we should tell her personally of the events of the night before, and I was curious to see if a weapon I had asked for was ready.  Queen Nighean had given each of us a boon for our parts in killing the demon Galavesh.  I had asked for a hammer to be forged that would be of use against undead.  I wanted to be better prepared when I fought against the necromancer again, and I figured that sooner or later we would be fighting the Three Mothers, who seemed to employ such creatures.  She sent word to fetch the Hammer, which was enchanted with a Disruption effect. 

Queen Nighean was most disturbed to hear of the wraith in her city.  She seemed quite keen on us hunting and destroying the thing before it could hurt any more of her people.  Apparently two of her guards had been killed two nights previously, by means unknown.  They were found shriveled and lifeless.  She had their bodies brought to us, and indeed, it was apparent that they were victims of the wraith.  While we were talking, a messenger ran in and we learned that a druid of Sativola’s grove had also been found dead, that morning.  On his chest was scratched a message to me!  “Gudlaug.”  It read, “Come out and play.”  The wraith was mocking us.

Sativola and Nighean were very angry.  She gave Andreas a potion of Undead detection, and gave us permission to travel on the Ley, the magical road that allowed fast travel through the city.  “You will find this creature and destroy it.”  She told us in no uncertain terms.

We traveled outside of the city, to the west, and waited until dusk.  The three dead bodies had been found on this side of town, and it seemed like as good a place to look as any.  When the sun went down, Andreas drank the potion of undead detection.  He headed deeper into the woods, and we followed.  We came to some ruins from the fist Cimbri city in this area -- the original Vacomagus.

“The wraith is near.”  Andreas said.  “Be wary”

“What elssse would we be?”  Copoc mumbled

Unfortunately _Christobel _had been unable to accompany us, but we were all as prepared as we were going to be for fighting undead.  I had taken many high level healing spells, and also had my new hammer.

Suddenly, the wraith appeared from what looked like an old stone stairwell, that now lead to nothing, and attacked me.  The pain was horrible as its unearthly hand passed through my chest.  I felt my life essence flowing out of me into its fist and my strength fade from my arms. As quickly as it attacked, it moved back.  Unfortunately for it, Andreas cast a spell that captured it in a cage of force.  It was trapped!

The wraith shrieked in rage as it found it was unable to escape the trap.  Andreas then cast his _acid fog_ spell, but converted the acid to fire.  The wraith howled.  I joined in with a _flamestrike_, and Copoc again tried to turn the creature, to no effect. Unfortunately, the _force cage _and the now flaming fog hid him from our view – only its unholy scream revealed that he was still bound.

“To me my slaves! Kill the wizard!”  The wraith hissed.  Two wraiths in city guard uniforms rose up from the ground and attacked us.  They were no match for us, however.  I did learn the power of my new weapon, however.  The satisfying shriek of the undead as they are destroyed by a hammer of disruption is particularly lovely.  The wraith of the druid also attacked, but was also easily dealt with.

The Lord Andrej in the cage began to plead with us.  “I will leave, and never threaten you again, if you release me! I will tell you where to find Ophia, your enemy.”  It begged.  

We were, of course, not interested in dealing with it.  It continued to take damage from the fiery fog for over a minute - though it seemed longer.

Unfortunately, our luck ran out.  Just as the wraith seemed to be on its last gasp, the _force cage_ disappeared!  The wraith glared at us with malevolence, and sank into the ground.  We cursed ourselves for not being able to finish the thing off when we had the chance.  We knew that if we were attacked by it again, it would not be so easily captured.  

“Skink droppingsss!”  Copoc cursed.


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## CleverName (Feb 4, 2004)

*Fyi*

If you read this thread and are in the Athens, GA area, please check the following link. It concerns Gudlag's player, Jon Hanna. (It's good news!)

http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=76389

Thanks!


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## CleverName (Feb 9, 2004)

*Adventure 23*

A Beard's Errand
_By Dario _(Keith Martin)

Dario looked down at the crumpled form of Andreas, his employer for the last three years. Blood was flowing freely from the axe wound in the mage’s neck onto the deck of the White Dragon. 

“No” he thought “Cesar. The ship’s real name is Cesar. Have to remember that.”

“Well, druid. Is he dead?” he asked.

Gudlaug made to answer, but was interrupted. “Not dead, not dead, not yet at least.” The dwarven cleric Dain replied as he stooped over the mage’s pale form. “Not going to be, either, not with me handy. Give me a little room.” Dain Ivansson made a short prayer to his patron god Tyr, the Dekkalfar god of battle and war, and place one hand on the mage’s brow. The flow of blood stopped, and Dario watched with interest as the color crept back into Andreas face.

“He’ll live then?” the human soldier asked. “Good. Kept him alive all this time, hate to lose him like that.” He turned away from the dwarf to regard the corpses of the slain merrow scattered across the deck.

“You don’t ssseem too concerned, human.” Copoc said. “Isss he not your friend?”

“I’ve buried other friends, shaman. Goes along with soldiering. Never buried one at sea, though. Looked to me like you took a worse blow than him, anyway.”

“I will . . . recover.” Copoc replied. “Our new companion is most adept at healing, and Kanul Yat Balam tells me that my spirit .”

“Good. Glad you won’t be dying either.” Dario interrupted. “Gudlaug, give me a hand, let’s heave these bodies overboard.”

“Save one, I would question the dead.” Dain said. Dario looked at him uneasily, remembering his encounter with Gudlaug and Andreas’ necromantic enemy many months earlier. “Hrrmph. Fine, we’ll leave that big one for you, I suppose. He looked to be the leader at any rate.” Dario smiled grimly, remembering the combat only scant minutes earlier, and how the huge aquatic ogres had clambered suddenly aboard the ship in the middle of the night to catch most of the group unprepared or even sleeping.

Dario himself had been merely dozing, sleeping the light sleep of the seasoned campaigner. He never slept well aboard ship at any rate, and the recent attack on the group by undead agents of the Three Mothers had left him a bit uneasy. Nighean, the Vacomagi queen, had been glad to learn of the group’s departure from her city, presumably drawing the dread wraith after them and away form the populace. Andreas had somehow charmed a favor out of her without the queen’s realization, and she’d given them a letter of introduction to the court of some dwarven Eorl that Andreas and Gudlaug hoped would get them access to the King. They’d shipped out that very day and had been at sea no more than six hours by sunset. Dain, the newcomer, was keeping watch along with Copoc when the merrow attacked. They did their best to raise the alarm and defend themselves as the rest of the group came to their senses, but things had gone badly at first.

Copoc was the first to go down, leveled by a single blow from the apparent leader’s huge axe. At the time, Dario thought the lizard man was certainly dead. He remembered thinking, absurdly, how very red Copoc’s blood was as it splashed across his tunic. Almost at once he had drawn his sword and attempted to reach Andreas, who was threatened by two of the things.

One of the ogres vaulted across the gunwale between Dario and the leader, but two quick thrusts just under the thing’s ribcage quickly put and end to it. Dario remembered hearing the braying of Gertrude, Gudlaug’s pet mule coming from the stern of the ship, followed by a heavy splash. He could only assume that the beast had kicked her assailant overboard. He had no time, though, to worry about the druid’s animal and needed to look after his own responsibilities. Gudlaug and Dain were engaged with foes of their own, but Andreas was undefended.

Before he could reach a position from which he could guard his charge or engage his enemy, however, Dario heard the familiar phrases of some spell coming from Andreas. The wizard had been speaking in one of the faerie tongues, and not in High Illerian, and Dario knew from past experience that usually meant he was under some duress. There was a flash of fire, the great ogre leader stumbled back, angry red burns crisscrossing his body – but it was not slain, merely enraged.

Before Dario could move, the huge merrow leapt forward, yelling something in a language Dario could not understand, and drove the wizard to the deck of the ship with a pair of brutal blows. Andreas flailed about horribly, clearly having taken a mortal wound. Dario sprang forward at last, wary of the ogre’s reach. Relying only on its size and strength, the merrow was a clumsy fighter, and Dario easily slipped under a great, two-handed swipe of the thing’s axe. With his first thrust he had driven his short sword into the ogre’s leg, inside the thigh, where he knew from experience much blood would flow. The ogre staggered forward, bellowing something in its alien tongue, but slipped as it did so and fell to one knee, blood already pouring from the wound in its leg. Dario stepped easily to one side, reversing his grip as he did so, and brought his blade down with both hands into the ogre’s neck. It crashed to the deck and did not move again.

“Dario?” Gulaug asked. The warrior brought himself back to present concerns. “Deep in thought, there, mate? Let’s tend to these corpses, right?” Dario and Gudlaug proceeded to roll the heavy bodies off the deck and back into the sea. Gudlaug watched the last of them sink below. “Let that be a warning to you, bastards!” Dario was more interested in what Dain was doing than in yelling threats at any unseen enemies still lurking beneath the waves.

The dwarf Dain had been an unexpected arrival, materializing on the group’s doorstep in Vacomagus without warning. He claimed, as best Dario could piece together, to have been sent by someone named Prince Vahana, who Copoc and Malcom were apparently familiar with – more familiar with Brone, the name Vahana was traveling under whilst spying against the Three Mothers when the two first met the erstwhile prince.  After extensive recitations of his family history and pedigree, and a brief explanation of the tenets of his faith, Dain had more or less placed himself at the group’s disposal. From what Dario could gather, this Brone fellow owed Copoc and Malcom some sort of favor, and Dain owed Brone some sort of favor, so Dain was here to repay his debt to Brone and Brone’s debt to Copoc at the same time. Or something like that, it was rather complicated and Dario assumed at once that there was much the dwarf was not telling them, but he didn’t trouble himself with that – Andreas could worry about such matters. Malcom was leaving the group at that point, to “take up his commission in the irregular Vacomagi Navy” – which Dario assumed meant he would become a pirate like the rest of the godless half-elves. So another hand was welcome at that point, and a healer not least of all.

Dario watched now as the dwarf seemingly made a prayer to his heathen gods. He heard the word “Tyr” more than once, which he remembered was the dwarf war-god that Dain served. Eventually, the lips of the dead ogre began to move, and Dain questioned the thing’s corpse for some time, though the answers were in some faerie tongue and Dario could not make out any of them.

“So” Gudlaug said at last. “The Three Mothers were expecting us to leave by sea, it seems. Ophia's set this whole tribe of merrow to be on the lookout for us – five warbands at least.”

“Sssurely they cannot guesss our errand?” Copoc hissed. He glanced at the ship’s figurehead as he did so. 

Dario watched Dain closely while this was going on, but if the dwarf had any suspicions about the true nature of the ship he was standing on he did not betray them. The choice to let Cesar reveal himself to Dain in his own time and manner instead of taking another stranger into their confidence was a welcome one to Dario. “Never trust a dwarf” was about to become his personal motto after Kuldar had nearly betrayed the secret of the living ship.

“Hrmmph.” Dario grunted. He looked at Gudlaug. “Think it’s possible? Think they know where we are heading, and why?”

“Doubtful” Gudlaug said. “They likely expect us to be looking for Ophia at this point, hunting for the Shadow Barge. Or even trying to track down the dread wraith for a re-match.  I expect those things they would be prepared for us to undertake. But not this, not us suddenly heading to Jormunstein. I expect this attack has nothing to do with that. But who knows.”

“Our dead friend there indicated that many hunters were sent out, trying to cover all the likely trade routes out of Vacomagu.” Dain said. “I think they expected us to leave by ship, but didn’t know which way we would be heading.”

“Where . . what . . “ Andreas stirred, finally. Dario looked down at the mage. “Took a bad wound.” He said. “You nearly didn’t survive.” Andreas looked around, clearly confused. “Still at sea?” he asked.

“Yes.” Dain replied. “Still off on this mad errand to snatch hairs from the beard of a dwarven king. This friend of yours must have made a powerful enemy if it takes something like that to lift his curse.”

Andreas grimaced, still clearly in pain. “Ahh . . . yes. Powerful enemies are not in short supply around us, it seems. Thank you, Dario, you r service has been exceptional as always.”

“Wasn’t me.” Dario replied. “Couldn’t reach you in time. I did do for him, though.” He pointed at the dead form of the merrow leader. “Dain, here, saved your skin. A useful healer, just as promised.” If he felt any shame at his failure to protect his charge, Dario didn’t betray it.

Without comment, Andreas turned to the dwarf. “Then you have my thanks, master dwarf. Should my bodyguard be . . . unavailable again, I hope you will be as quick with your magics. I’d surely have perished otherwise.”

“Think nothing of it.” Dain said. “Dario there had his hands full as it was. He’s quite capable a fighter for all that he’s not a dwarf. More to him than meets the eye.”

“Yes, well.” Andreas eased himself to a seat on the gunwale near the prow of the ship. He place one hand easily on the White Dragon figurehead and looked up into the glassy black orb of the dragon’s eye. “I think you’ll find there is more than meets the eye to most of us.”


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## CleverName (Feb 25, 2004)

*Adventure 24*

Shadow Secrets and Dark Dilemmas

By Copoc Kitzam (David Nickerson)

After my miserable attempts at sailing without Malcolm’s aid I retired to lounge on deck and enjoy the benefits of Gudlaug’s ability to control weather.  We had resolved to return to Jormunsteinn and attempt to pluck three hairs from the beard of the dekkalfar king Lodur Hardhand.  I was eager to help break the curse on White Dragon (Cezar) because he had aided us tremendously in our past adventures.  I felt that he had suffered justly for his crimes but had paid his dues.  I remained unclear on dwarven etiquette, but our task was daunting and I imagined that if done improperly it would incite quick, severe, and quite possibly deadly retribution.  No matter.  I would let Andreas and the dwarves figure it out.  I had other matters to contemplate.  Kanul Yat Balam seemed pleased by the recent addition to our party of Dain’s priestly powers and Bombaska’s burning rays.  Both would serve well on a foray into the ruins of Tikul.  I smiled and stretched in my hammock, the golden medallion of Bombaska heavy and warm upon my chest.  Our victory was inevitable and soon the Kulkan Empire would regain its former glory.  My spirit allies drowsed on deck, enjoying their spirit sun.  I searched for Balamob, my steadfast companion for over a year now, but the feisty little croc was no where in sight.  Only when I gazed upon the majesty of Gargok the Skyhunter circling above did I recall that I had recently released Balamob in order to acquire a new and more powerful predator ally.  I was becoming a formidable shaman indeed!  The shadowy form of Dalas Salik seemed to shrink from the sun and I was troubled briefly but turned in my hammock and put it from my mind.  The breeze was gentle and the sun warm.  My stomachs growled incessantly, but I was content in my basking and too lazy to stir.  Ikali Mox the Living Storm could learn a thing or two about weather control from good old Gudlaug!

The druid appeared suddenly before me.  I hadn’t noticed his approach.  

“There you are Copoc,” he stated in a puzzled fashion.  “We’ve been looking for you.  Snatching beards is risky business and we have much planning to do.”

Hal was scampering along the support cord of my hammock.  He looked plumper than I had remembered and I was pleased to see that he had invited his new friends.  A veritable smorgasbord of long-tailed rodents scurried across and underneath my hammock.  I grabbed a handful and shoved them into my maw, glancing furtively at Gudlaug.  His eyes grew wide.  Bringing my claw to my mouth, ostensibly to scratch my lower jaw, I stuffed Hal’s wriggling tail between my teeth.  

“COPOC!  You murderer!” Gudlaug screamed.

I swallowed and tried to smile convincingly as Gudlaug began shaking and waving his hands wildly.  I awoke even as I was engulfed in searing flames.  Bombaska’s medallion was burning my chest and I jumped up, shifting its position.  I knew that I had summoned a very powerful ally and would have to consider carefully how best to harness his power.  Gargok continued to circle above.

I rejoined my companions in time to find Gudlaug asking Cezar for information about King Lodur.  Cezar had only brief contact with the king, but revealed to us a quest that had consumed both Lodur and his forebears.  It had occurred that the magical regalia of the last dwarven king before the great flood had vanished in the deluge and was never recovered.  Lodur’s father had even constructed a submersible stone boat for the sole purpose of locating this lost treasure.

We anchored well off Jormunsteinn to consider this intriguing revelation.  Andreas engaged in a legend lore while I researched new ways to contact the mountainous spirit of Jormunsteinn.  I had failed twice previously and was determined to immerse myself in the island’s lore.  I needed to find a way to attract the attention of such an immense entity and would have to convince it that a partnership would be mutually beneficial.  I speculated briefly on the success of other shamen in this endeavor, but soon questioned whether or not it had ever been attempted.  After all, I still had not encountered another shaman in my increasing travels and I wondered often if I was not the last.

Meanwhile Dain had prepared a commune with one of the emissaries of Tyr and was ready to begin.  We all gathered around in anticipation.

Dain:  Will the plucking of Lodur’s beard be allowed as compensation for recovering the lost regalia?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain:  Is there a traitor in King Lodur’s court aligned with the Three Mothers?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain:  Will part of Cezar’s curse be lifted if we acquire Lodur’s beard hairs?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain:  Is this an acceptable course of action?

Emissary of Tyr:  If Cezar has learned his lesson.

Dain:  Does Volodya plan to usurp control of the Three Mother’s criminal empire?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain:  Is the lost regalia located on this plane?

Emissary of Tyr:  No.

Dain:  Is the lost regalia located on the plane of Shadow?

Emissary of Try:  Yes.

Dain:  Is the lost regalia in the possession of an individual?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain:  Is the lost regalia within ten miles of our current position?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain:  Is the lost regalia within two miles of our current position?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain:  Is Brathor Goldenhand in league with the Three Mothers?

Emissary of Tyr:  No.

Dain:  Is Brathor Goldenhand being coerced by the Three Mothers?

Emissary of Tyr:  No.

Dain:  Has Brathor Goldenhand unknowingly aided the Three Mothers?

Emissary of Tyr:  Yes.

Dain’s commune answered many question and asked many more, which was not uncommon with these otherworldly types.  We reflected upon this as we approached Jormunsteinn, glad to have Dain among us.  After docking at the main waterfront we paid five coppers for a berth.  Our armor stowed in bags, we soon headed toward the Pheasant where we could find suitable lodgings and also tell Oiin of Gann’s tragic final days.  Haradrak was much as we remembered it and we were all pleasantly surprised to find Bacauda purchasing fish at a local market.  With a deft swipe of clawed fingers I made sure that the black barbed hook of Dalas Salik was sufficiently concealed.  Bacauda was extremely pleased and thrilled to see us and carried on at length about the “spoon spirit” that I had left with her.  It is frustrating at times to attempt an intelligent conversation with the spiritblind, but I sense at least that Bacauda is trying.  I felt that I could do no less and  resolved to continue my study of the Logotheum.  I told Bacauda that I was well into the holy tome and would be happy to learn more.  We introduced Dain and he inquired as to the location of the nearest temple of Tyr.  After answering our inquiries, Bacauda informed us that the Eorl was throwing a birthday party for her brother, Sir Narses.  The festivities would commence in three days and she told us to expect an invitation.

As we continued on to the Pheasant we were approached by some dekkalfar prostitutes.  

“Fresh off the sea, eh?” they squawked as they prodded and poked at Gudlaug and Dain.  The druid promptly dismissed them all I must admit that I agreed with his wise decision.  I knew what these dwarves needed!  I searched enthusiastically for the kulkan honeys but none appeared to be present.

When we finally reached our destination we were greeted warmly by Oiin.  Introductions were made as were arrangements for rooms and a stable.  We were quite surprised to learn that Oiin was acquainted with Dain’s grandfather- the apparently legendary “Casket Smasher.”

Beer was the drink of choice until I broke the news of Gann’s death, carefully omitting details concerning his post-ascension demise.  Oiin was visibly shaken and procured a bottle of the finest Iconian brandy.  We toasted Gann and reminisced, sharing stories of his more memorable exploits.  This continued well into the afternoon and was interrupted only when a small stone tablet sailed through an open window and smashed me in the face.  I jumped to my feet, snarling and prepared for battle.  Dario was on his feet as well, and Andreas warily scanned the inn.  

“Look,” Oiin calmly observed, “an invitation.”

“Why so jumpy Copoc?”  snickered Gudlaug.

“Yeah,” continued Dain, “we knew this was coming.”

They continued consuming brandy as I studied this “official” invitation.  Dwarves are so weird.

I explained to Oiin that we had been invited to Sir Narses birthday party.  He seemed impressed, but commented that Sir Narses was kind of “snooty” for his tastes.  We sent word to Brathor that we would attend and retired briefly to our rooms.  Dain was apparently accustomed to more elegant quarters and seemed a bit reluctant to stay.  He spent the rest of his evening purchasing fancy new clothes and visiting the temple of Tyr.  Gudlaug suggested that we scout the Shadow Plane the next morning and then left to perform some pressing druidic duties.  Andreas and Dario left as well and I soon found myself alone.  I decided to use this time to unravel some personal mysteries and determine what, exactly, Dalas Salik expected me to retrieve from the plane of Shadow.  I went into a deep trance and summoned the shadowy spirit.

“The time drawsss near Copox,” she whispered seductively.  “You mussst complete our bargain and reward my effortsss to protect both you and your compatriotsss.”

“So you know that I will be entering the plane of Shadow?”

“Yessss.  Thisss I have foresseen.  You mussst retrieve sssomething for me.  Yesss and repay my benevolenssse.” 

“What is it you would have me obtain?” I questioned.  “And where might I locate this object?”

“Objectssss!  Objectssss yesss!!  You mussst retrieve objectssses!  My eggsses!  My eggsses!!”  Her voice, which had elevated suddenly on the first “eggsses” returned now to a serene hiss.  “And return them here.  Awaken my sspeciesss!  We wisssh to come home.”

“Show me,” I said.  “Where can I find these eggs and how will I know when I do?”

“Under the Ssshadow Ssea.  There you will find my eggsses.  Many eggsses!”  At this point Dalas Salik coalesced from a soupy mist and for the first time her true nature was revealed.  She was an alluring cross between a shark and a giant squid, with glistening tentacles and multiple clawed suckers.  She was holding what appeared to be a barbed pouch.  

“My eggsses,” she stated simply as she began to fade.

I slid out of my trance to find Gudlaug, Andreas and Dain studying me intently.  They appeared to be- how shall I say- “concerned,” and proceeded to inquire what “eggsses” I had been mumbling about.  

“Just a dream,” I assured the trio as I began preparing for sleep.

“Sounds more like a nightmare to me,” I heard Andreas commenting as I shut my eyes for the night.

I could not sleep knowing that I might soon face a dark dilemma.  I still didn’t know what Dalas Salik was, but I remembered Bacauda’s reaction to one of the spirit’s earthly anchors-the black serrated claw that hung from my throat.  She had sensed its dark history immediately and proceeded to cast a detect evil spell upon me!  Dalas Salik had indeed helped me and my comrades on several occasions, but I felt it unwise to procure these eggs and deliver them to this plane without more information.  I certainly had agreed to do so, but would I be inadvertently releasing an ancient evil?  I hadn’t spent the last several months cleansing the scourge of the yuan-ti only to introduce a new evil into Skia Thalassa.  But then perhaps I wouldn’t even be near the Shadow Sea.  These thoughts weighed heavy on my conscious as I finally drifted off.

After some quick preparations the next morning we went to find a certain tree that Gudlaug had chosen previously.  He skillfully prepared his incantation and soon we could see sheets of shadows falling behind the trunk and many of the larger branches.  We stepped through and were engulfed in the plane of Shadow.

We found ourselves standing in the blasted ruins of a city.  Everywhere was misty and dim and images seemed to blur and shift before my eyes.  There was a black castle in the distance and several stocky figures were fanning massive fires that struggled to survive.  My spirit allies were all babbling at once and the effect was rather nauseating.  Barred from the brilliance of the Spirit World, some were cursing this horrible place and only Dalas Salik seemed to thrive, as if she were feeding off the very stuff of shadow.  Even Gondoc wished to depart, barring of course the appearance of a foe suitable for consumption.  There was a fortified causeway leading to a large dock and further down we could see wagons carting what appeared to be logs back and forth.  Shadows jumped in our peripheral vision and we witnessed shades of sahaugin surfacing from the Shadow Sea and reenacting their deaths.  As we moved away from the water Dalas Salik became increasingly agitated.

“Wrong way Copox!  Wrong way!  Eggsses are in the sssseeeee!” she croaked in exasperation.  

“Knock it off you nut job!” demanded Gondoc unsympathetically, “Copox, ahem, Copoc knows where he wants to go.”

This was not entirely true, but as we picked our way through the ruins I beheld some fortifications at the mountain’s base and I knew for sure that I did not want to go there!  I wondered silently just where Gudlaug’s scouting mission would end.  

Dain noticed at this point the remains of some twisted runes and he proceeded to cast comprehend languages.  The ancient inscriptions were chiseled in duergar and depicted fragments of a prayer to Volle and Vidar- the twin gods of vengeance.  This was an ominous sign as the duergar were the “dwarven bogeymen” of legend that had warred upon the dwarves of faerie at the egg of time.  Gudlaug and Dain exchanged concerned glances and quickly agreed that Dain should attempt another spell. 

Dalas Salik began moaning again and cursed our lack of progress.  “My babeeessss!  My babeeesss!  I can hear them breathing!  Make hassste Copox!  Make hassste!”

“Chill you daft loon,” barked Ikali Mox as he summoned a small thunderstorm to cover his head and attempt to drown out the relentless drivel.  “You are one bent mama!”

I focused once more upon Dain as he completed his spell.  We were windwalking now, vaporous in form and able to glide rapidly over the ruins.  I imagined as well that potential adversaries would have difficulty discerning our presence in this world of mist and shadow.  And more trouble still causing us harm!  We appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a merry yet determined band of spirits, perhaps searching for a shaman so that we might peer into the physical world.

Soon we could distinguish that the fortifications were facing toward the mountain, as if to keep something inside.  Many dwarves were visible, and they were stacking logs saturated with oil against a formidable gate that was blanketed with duergar runes.  I was flooded with memories of Urian as I realized that the dwarves were indeed faerie Halaglaz- the mystic order committed to fighting chaos and the fates.  Some of the logs withered and deteriorated before my eyes and I saw one unfortunate dekkalfar soul receiving vicious lashes, apparently for having fallen asleep.  

We drifted alarmingly close and I was surprised to see that the dwarves, all of them, were practically incandescent, radiating magical auras of various schools and leaving pretty trailers.  Dalas Salik was screaming at me now and even my tympanic membranes couldn’t fend off her hideous shrieks.

As I was battling the voices in my head, my comrades were working to solve the mysteries before us.  Dain translated some runes from the gate itself that promised destruction to all dwarves penetrating the barrier.  Andreas detected thoughts on the gate.  It was resistant, but there was little doubt that it was alive.  Gudlaug endowed himself with true seeing and revealed to us that the gate was in fact a horned demon!  He then decided to further mask our presence with a circle of sound before we continued our approach.  A tower, previously shrouded in a smoky haze, came suddenly into view.  It stood above the gate and housed multiple pipes that descended from strategic locations and were directed over the entrance.  There were several Halaglaz on the roof, and Andreas refocused his thought detection on them.  They were intent on the door, and on loosing holy water upon any demons that might happen to appear.  “…our duty, our duty ” surfaced frequently in their thoughts, as did “…our fault, our fault.”

Dalas Salik was cursing me in earnest and I was beginning to fear a physical assault when Andreas dimension doored us deep behind the gate.  The darkness was nearly complete.  Even Gudlaug’s lighted staff provided little comfort.  We heard a muffled flapping that sounded far away until nearly upon us, as if its creator had emerged from a deep hole or pit in the distance.  I beseeched  Kanul Yat Balam to bless me with blindsight so that I could sense the very vibrations of those around me, including the winged creature that I suspected would soon bring trouble.  

I gazed into the inky blackness and caught a glimpse of the misbegotten beast as Gudlaug opened with a lightening strike.  This appeared to have little or no effect and I felt a foul draft as the creature settled.  

“Skink droppings!” I hissed when a strange incantation dispelled the windwalk.  Turning toward our unseen opponent, I shifted my shock club, ready to strike.  Dario moved in front of Andreas, and I sensed Gudlaug charge in frustration and then  curse the beast for attacking his cherished weapon.  He clearly had not considered the alternative! 

The creature took wing again and perched somewhere in the stygian depths.  Another spell flew from its black teeth and I grimaced as I was gashed by an invisible force.  Groans from my friends confirmed that I was not alone in this.

A thick voice speaking in heavily accented dekkalfar boomed through the cavern.  “No dwarf who enters the grave of the duergar may pass without a curse!”  My spirit allies were inching away from the dwarves, and I was seriously considering a spiritjump.  I was unsure if I could reach everyone however, and I would not leave my friends.  I tried to position myself in the center of the group.

With astounding speed our adversary dove and attacked once more, but this time Dario was prepared and struck the creature a mighty blow.  I was nearly overwhelmed by the stench of death, and in the light of Gudlaug’s staff I could see that this monster was composed of densely packed duergar bodies.  My shock club crackled and I grasped it firmly, preparing to play some undead dungball.

In the confusion I had almost forgotten about Dain.  An unfamiliar chanting reminded me that we had a powerful new ally!  I was strangely disoriented as his planeshift went into effect.  We appeared in a wheatfield.  Gudlaug, Andreas, Dario, Dain and I.  The sun felt wonderful and I was slightly annoyed when a shadow fell upon me.  I looked up to see that the dread abomination had followed us somehow.

“Skink droppings!” I hissed again, terribly annoyed.


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