Time
Would that we had more of it! We are in my homeland, if only the frontier trading town of Khemhet, but my homeland nonetheless. It feels comfortable to walk the right path and act in the old and correct ways once more, to speak in my language and be understood, to be... at home, even if the ways here differ slightly from those in my region of the country. It is good.
And yet, something is wrong. Something has changed and there is a subtle undertone of discontent that seems out of place here, yet no one can point to its source. There is much trade from the north, particularly the kingdom of Izmir, but the traders from that unhappy land are under instructions only to sell, not to buy. However trade is not at the heart of what is wrong. Would that we could investigate, but we must move on in the morning, on to the island!
I have guided the others in correct behavior in this land, obtained travel permits for them, a business license for Stuzcka, and have put in some hours helping at the temple of Lord Pelor, praise be to him. Now I must write a letter to my family, and then all shall be in order, at least for now.
When, by the grace of Lord Pelor and the rightly-guiding gods, we defeat the Aboleth, I will come here again.
*A*
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Journal of Arcadius
A Return
After destroying the Aboleth and its constructs, we explored its former headquarters, and found that much had already been occupied by the Yuan-Ti. We also found the Seneschal in discussion with them, now free of mind control and clearly thankful to be such. After some sharing of useful information, we passed through the gate to the very island in the far north previously visited by Azan and Nigori.
This island was said to be prowled by dragons, and so it was. We met a Prismatic Dragon, a mighty being of uncertain goals, but a clear foe of the Aboleth. It asked us many questions, but came away with the right understanding that we too are fighting the Aboleth. We passed on and found a former camp of the dark-haired Northerners, but all destroyed by dragon fire.
It seemed unwise to linger, so Ragnarr called upon Lord Pelor to teleport us to a place of familiarity, his home town, site of the orphanage where he was raised. This town is a remote, but goodly place in the far northern regions near Stonekeep. The orphanage is maintained by a small temple of Lord Pelor, and there of course Ragnarr and I helped as we could. It was good to see him smiling again, the sun on his face. He spent much time playing with the children and brightening their days.
For my part, I also advised Crunch,the mechanical man, to separate out the holy symbols he had unwisely welded together. I, the priest of Pelor, and Ragnarr aided in this task so that it was done respectfully and correctly. I advised Crunch to give the symbol of Lord Herakles to Tupper, his chosen champion.
After some days passed peacefully in this town, Ragnarr again called upon Pelor and sent us striding forth upon the wind to Umea. It was bitter cold among the clouds in winter, and I was glad we had magic to shield us from the worst of it.
In Umea, trade had much improved, but in other ways all was worse - the place was clearly under the control of the minions of the Aboleth, and many wore crystals openly. We found our horses and Hrogar's cart in good care at least. I visited my horses, Alabaster and Onyx, who have grown a bit fat and lazy with month's of inactivity. Still, they seem happy and healthy, and that is good in these dark times. I gave the innkeeper a considerable amount of gold to care for them for the coming year, and to exercise them more frequently.
There are much larger dangers growing. The Kingdom of Izmir is now clearly ruled by those in thrall to the Aboleth, and it is preparing for war against Point of Origin. We cannot help, not yet at least, for the path of our duty leads us elsewhere, right to the heart of the evil that set all of this in motion.
Lest I forget, I should mention that Walter-Tupper is being called home to Point of Origin by the Sable Lions, for some worthy purpose of their own. Perhaps he answers the call of Lord Herakles at last! Truly, the wisdom and guidance of the gods may be seen in this matter.
We now know that the Aboleth known as the Telepath is based on an island far to the south, several hundred miles west of my homeland. A few days windwalking should take us there, but dangers may lie on the route in between.
Ah, my homeland! So long I have been away! How I would like to see my home as Ragnarr has seen his. Ah, but duty must be done... and that duty must be done swiftly if any of us are to have homes left to see.
Praise be to Lord Pelor!
Praise be to the gods who defend us and guide us.
Let us not falter now.
*A*
After destroying the Aboleth and its constructs, we explored its former headquarters, and found that much had already been occupied by the Yuan-Ti. We also found the Seneschal in discussion with them, now free of mind control and clearly thankful to be such. After some sharing of useful information, we passed through the gate to the very island in the far north previously visited by Azan and Nigori.
This island was said to be prowled by dragons, and so it was. We met a Prismatic Dragon, a mighty being of uncertain goals, but a clear foe of the Aboleth. It asked us many questions, but came away with the right understanding that we too are fighting the Aboleth. We passed on and found a former camp of the dark-haired Northerners, but all destroyed by dragon fire.
It seemed unwise to linger, so Ragnarr called upon Lord Pelor to teleport us to a place of familiarity, his home town, site of the orphanage where he was raised. This town is a remote, but goodly place in the far northern regions near Stonekeep. The orphanage is maintained by a small temple of Lord Pelor, and there of course Ragnarr and I helped as we could. It was good to see him smiling again, the sun on his face. He spent much time playing with the children and brightening their days.
For my part, I also advised Crunch,the mechanical man, to separate out the holy symbols he had unwisely welded together. I, the priest of Pelor, and Ragnarr aided in this task so that it was done respectfully and correctly. I advised Crunch to give the symbol of Lord Herakles to Tupper, his chosen champion.
After some days passed peacefully in this town, Ragnarr again called upon Pelor and sent us striding forth upon the wind to Umea. It was bitter cold among the clouds in winter, and I was glad we had magic to shield us from the worst of it.
In Umea, trade had much improved, but in other ways all was worse - the place was clearly under the control of the minions of the Aboleth, and many wore crystals openly. We found our horses and Hrogar's cart in good care at least. I visited my horses, Alabaster and Onyx, who have grown a bit fat and lazy with month's of inactivity. Still, they seem happy and healthy, and that is good in these dark times. I gave the innkeeper a considerable amount of gold to care for them for the coming year, and to exercise them more frequently.
There are much larger dangers growing. The Kingdom of Izmir is now clearly ruled by those in thrall to the Aboleth, and it is preparing for war against Point of Origin. We cannot help, not yet at least, for the path of our duty leads us elsewhere, right to the heart of the evil that set all of this in motion.
Lest I forget, I should mention that Walter-Tupper is being called home to Point of Origin by the Sable Lions, for some worthy purpose of their own. Perhaps he answers the call of Lord Herakles at last! Truly, the wisdom and guidance of the gods may be seen in this matter.
We now know that the Aboleth known as the Telepath is based on an island far to the south, several hundred miles west of my homeland. A few days windwalking should take us there, but dangers may lie on the route in between.
Ah, my homeland! So long I have been away! How I would like to see my home as Ragnarr has seen his. Ah, but duty must be done... and that duty must be done swiftly if any of us are to have homes left to see.
Praise be to Lord Pelor!
Praise be to the gods who defend us and guide us.
Let us not falter now.
*A*
Sztuczka's Journal
Ragnarr's hometown is amazing! A nice little place and lots to see! Alas, I have spent so much time playing music and around the orphanage and it was a brilliant little town and now we're back with the horses... well everyone else's horses my horse is still in al-Andalus and i forgot how nice a hot bath is and it sounds like Point of Origin is in huge trouble with Ismir and Ismir is no longer friendly and P.o.O. (what an unfortunately acronym!) and uh yeah so we may be avoiding that part of the world and tupper hopefully will not do anything to put us in jeopardy after he has left for PoO!
Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 280-283 - Final
Day 282 (apparently)
So we defeated the aboleth, which was nice. Nobody died, and we looted the hell out of the place. Turns out we spent eighteen days off-plane. The yuan-ti moved into the keep while we were away, which was downright unsettling. The aboleth had some sort of phylactery set up as a proof against spontaneous exoplanar do-gooder, which Ragnarr managed to lock down. Easy money says the first one we killed had something like that in place.
Not only did we leave the yuan-ti with a fully-functioning obsidian portal, but we went through the damn thing, too. Because clearly there wasn't a boat off that island. Attempts to locate transit on the other side of the portal were met with burning wreckage and snarky dragons that smell several-week-old urine stains and presume they're fresh. After realizing this was a dead end, Ragnarr transported us to his hometown for some reason, where I managed to start in on my final report and everyone else did whatever bloody-minded things came to mind. Something about taking apart a holy symbol they found.
After a night's rest, we set out for Oohmaya as gusts of wind. Currently we are sitting within half a day of Oohmaya, where I have realized I have a horse. This is the best stepping-off point for me, I think. I'll tell them tomorrow and wash my hands of it all. Damned lunatics, the lot of them.
Day 283
Said my farewells, received report from Hrogar for the Order, got out on the road back home. Good riddance. First things first, time to pay off my debts, ending with Helga. I have just enough to pay them and/or their surviving family members off, and to live well enough while I do it. And I forgot what the hells I named my horse. Fortunately the horse forgot, too.
I'd name the backend of the animal after Herakles, but it wouldn't be fair. After all, this horse has never shat on me even once.
Okay, not more than once. Yuck.
More than twice, then.
HERAKLES THINKS POOP JOKES ARE GODSDAMN HILARIOUS.
(Tucked into the journal as a bookmark, and written by David)
To Walter Tupper does Lord-Commander Alfarinn Álfrimsson of the Sable Lions send greetings.
We hope that this missive finds you in good health. We have not received any update from you in some time, which has raised some concern as to your actions given what we have heard. Given our current situation and the enemy's suspected capabilities, we are unwilling to divulge anything on the magnitude of importance that we are discussing in this letter over a sending spell, so we have arranged for the orders to go to Hrogar when he is next in İzmir.
First, let's get the more drastic news out of the way: Since we have received a lack of updates from you, we are assuming that the paladin's mission is going well. Thus, due to the shift in focus in the war, we have transferred your command to the Point Guard, which is more responsible for defending against the forces from the sea that are encroaching more and more on our doorstep every day. We believe that you will be of great service to them going forward, and that your skills are ideally suited to rooting out dissent in our own ranks and in performing certain functions for us in İzmir and beyond. They have agreed to assign you the rank of Lieutenant (1st class), and have agreed to relay commands through us until you can get personally acquainted with your superior officers in Point of Origin on your next visit.
They have brought two issues of note up that they would like us to relay to you.
First, a woman named Helga has been calling after some debts she says that you owe her. I have asked that this message be relayed to you via a sending so that you may settle the matter with her quickly. I am sure you will be prompt in repaying whatever debt you owe to her and hope that you will succeed in getting her out of our hair.
Second, a remote paladin order referring to themselves as "Knights of Heracles" has told us that you have been invited to join their ranks as a recruit. While I do not know if this order is well suited to you, I never knew you had such a courageous streak in you! Congratulations on whatever it is you have done to attract Lord Heracles's attention, I hope you will use the gifts he bestows on you wisely and serve him well.
Finally, they have asked us to relay to you their fervent hope that you will help them get a better grasp of what is going on in İzmir. They hope that on your way back to Point of Origin you will spend some time there, get to know the locals, and can tell them more about the developing circumstances there.
In Service,
Alfarinn Álfrimsson
Lord-Commander of the Sable Lions
Co-Signed:
Morgan ingen Gwyn
Knight-Commander of the Point Guard
So we defeated the aboleth, which was nice. Nobody died, and we looted the hell out of the place. Turns out we spent eighteen days off-plane. The yuan-ti moved into the keep while we were away, which was downright unsettling. The aboleth had some sort of phylactery set up as a proof against spontaneous exoplanar do-gooder, which Ragnarr managed to lock down. Easy money says the first one we killed had something like that in place.
Not only did we leave the yuan-ti with a fully-functioning obsidian portal, but we went through the damn thing, too. Because clearly there wasn't a boat off that island. Attempts to locate transit on the other side of the portal were met with burning wreckage and snarky dragons that smell several-week-old urine stains and presume they're fresh. After realizing this was a dead end, Ragnarr transported us to his hometown for some reason, where I managed to start in on my final report and everyone else did whatever bloody-minded things came to mind. Something about taking apart a holy symbol they found.
After a night's rest, we set out for Oohmaya as gusts of wind. Currently we are sitting within half a day of Oohmaya, where I have realized I have a horse. This is the best stepping-off point for me, I think. I'll tell them tomorrow and wash my hands of it all. Damned lunatics, the lot of them.
Day 283
Said my farewells, received report from Hrogar for the Order, got out on the road back home. Good riddance. First things first, time to pay off my debts, ending with Helga. I have just enough to pay them and/or their surviving family members off, and to live well enough while I do it. And I forgot what the hells I named my horse. Fortunately the horse forgot, too.
I'd name the backend of the animal after Herakles, but it wouldn't be fair. After all, this horse has never shat on me even once.
Okay, not more than once. Yuck.
More than twice, then.
HERAKLES THINKS POOP JOKES ARE GODSDAMN HILARIOUS.
(Tucked into the journal as a bookmark, and written by David)
To Walter Tupper does Lord-Commander Alfarinn Álfrimsson of the Sable Lions send greetings.
We hope that this missive finds you in good health. We have not received any update from you in some time, which has raised some concern as to your actions given what we have heard. Given our current situation and the enemy's suspected capabilities, we are unwilling to divulge anything on the magnitude of importance that we are discussing in this letter over a sending spell, so we have arranged for the orders to go to Hrogar when he is next in İzmir.
First, let's get the more drastic news out of the way: Since we have received a lack of updates from you, we are assuming that the paladin's mission is going well. Thus, due to the shift in focus in the war, we have transferred your command to the Point Guard, which is more responsible for defending against the forces from the sea that are encroaching more and more on our doorstep every day. We believe that you will be of great service to them going forward, and that your skills are ideally suited to rooting out dissent in our own ranks and in performing certain functions for us in İzmir and beyond. They have agreed to assign you the rank of Lieutenant (1st class), and have agreed to relay commands through us until you can get personally acquainted with your superior officers in Point of Origin on your next visit.
They have brought two issues of note up that they would like us to relay to you.
First, a woman named Helga has been calling after some debts she says that you owe her. I have asked that this message be relayed to you via a sending so that you may settle the matter with her quickly. I am sure you will be prompt in repaying whatever debt you owe to her and hope that you will succeed in getting her out of our hair.
Second, a remote paladin order referring to themselves as "Knights of Heracles" has told us that you have been invited to join their ranks as a recruit. While I do not know if this order is well suited to you, I never knew you had such a courageous streak in you! Congratulations on whatever it is you have done to attract Lord Heracles's attention, I hope you will use the gifts he bestows on you wisely and serve him well.
Finally, they have asked us to relay to you their fervent hope that you will help them get a better grasp of what is going on in İzmir. They hope that on your way back to Point of Origin you will spend some time there, get to know the locals, and can tell them more about the developing circumstances there.
In Service,
Alfarinn Álfrimsson
Lord-Commander of the Sable Lions
Co-Signed:
Morgan ingen Gwyn
Knight-Commander of the Point Guard
Journal of Crunch, Day 280-283
-day 280:
Revised Conclusion: Victory! The vile creature and its henchconstructs were destroyed, liberating the Seneschal and permitting her to flee the field of combat. This event has left feelings of energy and vigor, far moreso than any previously.
During the exit of the lair, a trap was inadvertently sprung, leaving the others to doubt my autonomy. Fortunately no compromise in integrity has been observed. The upper levels of the lair have been commandeered by allied organics known as yuan-ti. The aboleth had a variation on the lich phylactery as a means of continued survival; but fortunately Ragnarr knew how to disarm it, and did. Calibration with local calendar systems occurred.
Employment of the aboleth transportation network led us to a bleak landscape, fraught with danger. A dragon of many colors and hues met with us here, and offered us what little aid it could. When we could find no transportation, Ragnarr employed a teleportation spell to return us all to his place of birth. It was intriguing to explore the hometown of such a legend. Ragnarr's mood appears much improved, and he left for business with old relations. Deployment of a disguise was required at this point, as the people of this land are unfamiliar with my kind. It is also very cold here, and proper attire is required for continued operation.
Conclusions: Prioritization of the Draconic language may be required.
-day 281:
Arkadesh has expressed concern over my holy symbol. He says that the welding together of several holy symbols as one is insulting to the gods involved. We have embarked on a respectful disassembly of the item. While Arkadesh appears to know more about etiquette with regards to the gods, he seems unable to fully grasp my belief system. This is understandable, as it is fairly complex. An endeavor to educate him is under way. A new, non-offensive holy symbol will also be required.
Conclusions: Being able to explain your beliefs is important.
-day 282:
I became wind! Ragnarr employed a different transportation spell that allowed us to become gusts of wind, which travelled south towards a city called Umeiya. It was very invigorating. We have set up camp after many hours of travel in this fashion, and outside of smoke on the horizon and the potential presence of dragons, it has been quiet.
Conclusions: Always wear warm clothing while being wind.
-day 283:
A ravaged caravan was the source of the smoke on the horizon. It appears to have suffered an attack by one or more dragons. The corpses of the caravan guards have clear crystals around their necks, which is a sign of control by the dread aboleths.
Tupper has left the unit to report back to his superiors. Arkadesh recommended giving Tupper the symbol of Herakles before he left. Attempts to do so were met with the holy symbol being flung at my head. Perhaps the symbol was unsuitable for use by the Champion of Herakles after it was affixed to others. However, I am certain he will find a way to properly sanctify it and so snuck the item into his saddlebag. At the worst, it will serve as a sign of concern and hope from an ally.
Conclusions: The parting of friends is always difficult, even if one only knows them for a short time.
Revised Conclusion: Victory! The vile creature and its henchconstructs were destroyed, liberating the Seneschal and permitting her to flee the field of combat. This event has left feelings of energy and vigor, far moreso than any previously.
During the exit of the lair, a trap was inadvertently sprung, leaving the others to doubt my autonomy. Fortunately no compromise in integrity has been observed. The upper levels of the lair have been commandeered by allied organics known as yuan-ti. The aboleth had a variation on the lich phylactery as a means of continued survival; but fortunately Ragnarr knew how to disarm it, and did. Calibration with local calendar systems occurred.
Employment of the aboleth transportation network led us to a bleak landscape, fraught with danger. A dragon of many colors and hues met with us here, and offered us what little aid it could. When we could find no transportation, Ragnarr employed a teleportation spell to return us all to his place of birth. It was intriguing to explore the hometown of such a legend. Ragnarr's mood appears much improved, and he left for business with old relations. Deployment of a disguise was required at this point, as the people of this land are unfamiliar with my kind. It is also very cold here, and proper attire is required for continued operation.
Conclusions: Prioritization of the Draconic language may be required.
-day 281:
Arkadesh has expressed concern over my holy symbol. He says that the welding together of several holy symbols as one is insulting to the gods involved. We have embarked on a respectful disassembly of the item. While Arkadesh appears to know more about etiquette with regards to the gods, he seems unable to fully grasp my belief system. This is understandable, as it is fairly complex. An endeavor to educate him is under way. A new, non-offensive holy symbol will also be required.
Conclusions: Being able to explain your beliefs is important.
-day 282:
I became wind! Ragnarr employed a different transportation spell that allowed us to become gusts of wind, which travelled south towards a city called Umeiya. It was very invigorating. We have set up camp after many hours of travel in this fashion, and outside of smoke on the horizon and the potential presence of dragons, it has been quiet.
Conclusions: Always wear warm clothing while being wind.
-day 283:
A ravaged caravan was the source of the smoke on the horizon. It appears to have suffered an attack by one or more dragons. The corpses of the caravan guards have clear crystals around their necks, which is a sign of control by the dread aboleths.
Tupper has left the unit to report back to his superiors. Arkadesh recommended giving Tupper the symbol of Herakles before he left. Attempts to do so were met with the holy symbol being flung at my head. Perhaps the symbol was unsuitable for use by the Champion of Herakles after it was affixed to others. However, I am certain he will find a way to properly sanctify it and so snuck the item into his saddlebag. At the worst, it will serve as a sign of concern and hope from an ally.
Conclusions: The parting of friends is always difficult, even if one only knows them for a short time.
Monday, October 4, 2010
A moment to relax
Some down time was nice. A few days ago we were fighting the abalith and then proceeded to go through the teleporting mirror. The clan which was camped out on the island looked like they were attacked. I am not sure if it was the dragon we came across our the abablith that was the cause of this. Anyway we teleported back to Ragnar's home town and spent some time there. After that we headed back to a town were the group had some horses.
While at the town we are resting and relaxing, we also found out some more information about point of origin. Ismer is apparently going to try and siege it. As much as the group wanted to go help protect point of origin we need to take care of the other ababliths.
Tupper has decided to leave. I have a bad feeling he is going to try and get back into point of origin and be capture. I would not be surprised if we have an army or at least a few assassins coming after us. Anyway, we are heading out tomorrow, but for now i am going to enjoy this bath and relax.
While at the town we are resting and relaxing, we also found out some more information about point of origin. Ismer is apparently going to try and siege it. As much as the group wanted to go help protect point of origin we need to take care of the other ababliths.
Tupper has decided to leave. I have a bad feeling he is going to try and get back into point of origin and be capture. I would not be surprised if we have an army or at least a few assassins coming after us. Anyway, we are heading out tomorrow, but for now i am going to enjoy this bath and relax.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Ragnarr: Home Again
It's been a long, long time since I've been back to Pelor's Beacon.
Ulf looks a bit older than I remember him. Children who had been dropped by the side of the trade route, the tiniest babies, freshly realized mistakes to their mothers, have grown up, moved out, and gone on to lead their own lives of adventure. Many, it seems, hoping to follow in the example of some dwarf imbecile they've heard stories about.
All of the children are different, but it feels the same. Quiet. Peaceful.
Home. This place feels like home.
I walked outside this morning, and felt the sun on my face.
The sun. It's been twenty years, twenty long damn years, without feeling that warmth on my face. Twenty years of a dull, gray chill that hadn't a damn thing to do with cold seeping into my bones. A chill that no amount of ale would warm, though Pelor knows I tried.
But ale can't make colors like this. Not even that damn Pandemonium crap can match the green of the grass, the orange blur of a little boy's hair, the rich browns of the earth beneath my feat.
I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't stop laughing. Poor Arcadius must have thought me mad, lying giggling in the sun with a pack of children playing "King of the Dwarf" on top of me.
It's strange. Yesterday, we killed an Aboleth, ended a great threat to the whole bloody planet. Yesterday, it hardly seemed like it mattered. It was just one more damn thing that needed doing.
And today it still doesn't matter. Children play in the streets, the breeze blows through my beard, and the sun... by the gods, the sun.
The sun was here the whole time. Pelor was always here, watching over where he was needed most.
And as long as he's up there, we'll be fine. Some of us may not see the end, not alive, but we'll get through this.
Because Pelor's up there. And he's in here. He was here the whole time.
And I'll not be deserting him again.
Ulf looks a bit older than I remember him. Children who had been dropped by the side of the trade route, the tiniest babies, freshly realized mistakes to their mothers, have grown up, moved out, and gone on to lead their own lives of adventure. Many, it seems, hoping to follow in the example of some dwarf imbecile they've heard stories about.
All of the children are different, but it feels the same. Quiet. Peaceful.
Home. This place feels like home.
I walked outside this morning, and felt the sun on my face.
The sun. It's been twenty years, twenty long damn years, without feeling that warmth on my face. Twenty years of a dull, gray chill that hadn't a damn thing to do with cold seeping into my bones. A chill that no amount of ale would warm, though Pelor knows I tried.
But ale can't make colors like this. Not even that damn Pandemonium crap can match the green of the grass, the orange blur of a little boy's hair, the rich browns of the earth beneath my feat.
I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't stop laughing. Poor Arcadius must have thought me mad, lying giggling in the sun with a pack of children playing "King of the Dwarf" on top of me.
It's strange. Yesterday, we killed an Aboleth, ended a great threat to the whole bloody planet. Yesterday, it hardly seemed like it mattered. It was just one more damn thing that needed doing.
And today it still doesn't matter. Children play in the streets, the breeze blows through my beard, and the sun... by the gods, the sun.
The sun was here the whole time. Pelor was always here, watching over where he was needed most.
And as long as he's up there, we'll be fine. Some of us may not see the end, not alive, but we'll get through this.
Because Pelor's up there. And he's in here. He was here the whole time.
And I'll not be deserting him again.
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