Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Journal of W. E. Tupper, Day 62-68

Day 62
First thing we did in town was to get Fflam to the Temple of Thor. The good news is that the curse can be cured, and its effects can be slowed down in the meantime. Bad news is the only person who can cure it is the High Cleric of Thor, who is missing. He disappeared before checking in at a small town to the north called Oohmaya, and I suppose now it's up to us to find him.

Spent the evening slowly backing away from sobriety.



[Tucked between the pages:]
For Unfettered Delivery To
Cnl. Alistair Stuart
Sable Lions Headquarters, City of Point of Origin

From Lt. W. E. Tupper (Probationary)
River Dolphin Inn, Cty of Izmir

[sealed with what looks like sloppily-applied candle wax with the crooked imprint of a signet ring]

In cojunction w/ Order initiates, have found source of threa† to be druid grove in Izmir. Progenitor of attack not halted but delayed, local lav√ enforcement unable to contain. Threat may be part of larger plan, will learn more. Will aim to post reports more regulrly, but nxt report may be late again. Sorry.

Yrs,
V√, ∑. 7˜.



Day 63
The worst way to start a day is to deep fritz a status report to your superior officers while hungover and with only hours before you and your merry troupe of fools go traipsing off on another quest. But that's not really how today started, no.

It started with a vision. At first, I thought it was just a strange dream: a loosely-clad elven woman sitting in a spell circle, talking to some unseen master. Then, at breakfast, everybody talked about having the exact same dream. Great! So either some unknown force is messing with us, or… or the gods are trying to nudge us in the right direction. I think it's the former, myself. There's a lot of diversity in the group's religious beliefs, and there's probably too much paperwork involved for Pelor or whoever to project a vision into the mind of a follower of St. Cuthbert. Even if it's a trap, the least it could do is tell us where the woman is. But enough of this.

I was lucky enough to finish the report this morning and send it out. Milya's letter will have to wait until I have the time for it. Bought some food for the trip. Shaft bought a large battle-ready horse. I don't think he named it, unless its name is "Awww yeah." Hrogar rented a magical 'cleric-tracking' compass from the wizard merchant. Some of the others chipped in for the cost of the thing, but I'll withhold my donation until it's actually proven to work. For now it's pointing north, so north we go.


Day 64
Third watch spotted a moaning ghost. Most of us went out to investigate it, and when we were all looking the other way, a giant wolf came into the camp and tried to gnaw the dwarf's neck off. We shot at it and scared it off; and after we pulled the bolts and arrows out of Fflam (we shot at the beast, not the beast itself), we noticed that Shell had gone missing. Whether she had been eaten by the wolf, or whether she was scouting around for it, or whether she was the wolf and the nibbling of the dwarf was her grand betrayal didn't matter; we still had a horny dead girl on our hands.

Yes sir, this ghost wasn't moaning in the traditional 'cries of the damned' sense. Fortunately that was as suggestive as she got. She responded to elven, and told us she couldn't remember her name or how she died. She said she was out haunting random trees because she needed somebody to burn her body. I really don't want to see what shape this body is in if she's moaning like that. On the other hand, it does provide incentive to burn it as soon as possible. I promised to get the job done and she disappeared.

Now we just have to find an elven corpse underneath a yew tree. Is there a big celestial sign on our collective backs that says "Kick me?"


Day 65
Must revise travel game on the basis that we have apparently left squirrel country.

By my estimations, Stuart will be opening my report today. I expect his complete and utter disappointment in me… now. Now? Maybe later.

~

Okay, felt a cold chill in my gut during watch. It was then.


Day 66
New Rules:
Deer (or deer-like creature) - 3 points
Bear (or bear-like creature) - 5 points, 7 if it doesn't spot you
Caravan - 10 points, plus 1 point per wagon
Other travellers - 5 points
Raving lunatics - 7-15 points, depending on intent and amusement value
Highwaymen - 20 points, 25 if they're not after you.

[Tucked between the pages are two pieces of paper covered on both sides in crudely-written elven-oid script.]

Anything dead - half the normal points.
Anything undead - quarter the normal points.
Anything dead that is trying to become undead - 0 points

Getting to the point where it's more fun to invent the game than to play it.


Day 67
Is Shaft blonde? This is going to drive me crazy.


Day 68
Made it to a small town with a large graveyard. Hrogar's compass is pointing east now. Asking about town, it's safe to say the people here don't like strangers

[Tucked between the pages are four sheets with the words PAPER STRIP BINDINGS at the top, with a series of runes on it and short notes indicating locations on a humanoid body.]

and Oda even less. Graveyard is devoid of tombstones with elven names, but there is a yew tree.

And underneath this tree, I found an overgrown and booby-trapped passageway down into a 10-sided chamber full of gussied-up bodies and an altar. Nine of the walls had bunks for corpses, with what looks to be names and dates in an old elven script next to each one. All of the bodies are bound at the joints with runed paper strips, with the bones in their neck broken. The altar had pictograms with ravens observing a battlefield and nine people hanging from a yew tree. Hrefna refused to enter the place on the claim that it was cursed. Awfully nice of her to let us go in, then.

On a hunch, I looked for a set of female-looking bones with any frayed bindings. Sure enough, there was one. I reckoned it to be our Yew-tree Moana; but Hrefna's paranoia, coupled with the latent evil aura the pallies were picking up, insured that nobody was going to even move that corpse much less burn it. So much for that, then.

Staying at the local inn. Hope I don't get haunted by aroused elf ghosts.

Well not angry ones, anyway.

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