Ragnarr: Psychic Checkup

When I was a wee healer, back before Pelor trusted me with things like status spells, I used to have to check up on whether anything was wrong with folk by the old fashioned ways. It was never quite so reliable, since it was a lot less "Pelor tells me this is wrong with you" and a whole lot more "Turn and cough" sort of thing.

Sometimes, you were in a large group of healers, and the ladies would checkup on the lady patients, and the men on the men and what have you. But then there were times when you would find yourself deep in the mountains somewhere, in a village of a few hundred or even dozen, and there was no time for propriety and you were going to put your finger there and see what was wrong with the girl because you didn't have any other damn choice.

There were jokes about it, of course. Never when a superior was around, but when we were up late at night with stolen beer and playing card games we'd been ordered not to, there were always a few jokes, here and there, about the pretty young ladies some lad or other had his hand in over the last few months.

Braggery, mostly. I had done it, and the thing is... even if it was a damn pretty lady, it was never all that attractive. For the most part, I was there trying to figure something out. I didnt' have the time to spend appreciating the girl I was examining, and she certainly wasn't pleased at what I needed to do to her to find out what was wrong. It wasn't a pleasant experience for either of us, and I don't care how fine the lass might be otherwise.

Except for one lassy. I didn't realize what was going on until much later. But there was thins one lassy, not bad looking, though not the most attractive girly I'd ever seen. And every week she would have something wrong with her. She'd come in, I'd examine her, tell her nothing was wrong, and not a week later she'd be back again. I thought she looked a wee bit flushed, maybe, and thought perhaps there was something wrong with her.

I told my master about it. He stormed out to go speak to her parents. I didn't quite realize why. And when I did realize why, it was more odd than understandable.

But that was before I had that checkup from the psychic surgeon. That lassie may not be the most lovely girl I've ever laid eyes on. And when she's doing her job, I'm sure she's much like me: she's in my mind looking for something wrong, not as some weird pervert thing.

When she's in there, though... by Pelor's beard.

Oh, hells. I hope she hasn't run into those thoughts while she's rummaging around in there. That would be...

Well. We'll just hope she hasn't, then.

Exerpts From the Journal of Hrogar

We left the pirate stronghold after we found out their leader had gotten away and we weren't going to be able to cut the head off the snake. But at least we stole his desk. His mahogany desk. Mahogany!

So we went back to magic city (aka Sigil) and sold our loot, and bought new stuff, which will hopefully serve me well in the coming battles.

Speaking of which, we think we know where most of the other Aboleth's are, so we're going after the Seer. Tactically, if we can take it out, it will hinder the others ability to mount as serious a defence against us. That being said, it'll probably be one of the tougher ones since it'll quite possibly know what we're going to do before we do.

I hope we (and especially I) can stop making mistakes as often as we have been.

Journal of Arcadius

Pirates

The pirates fled. Nathaniel, the pirate leader, left us a note offering a bribe and a threat. A bribe of a piece of the ancient staff, and a threat of attacking my homeland. Perhaps in Crunch's world of Eberron, where pirates are apparently friendly and reasonable, we could negotiate with him. In our world this is folly. As it was, we were pressed for time and saw no point in spending days ransacking their empty headquarters.

In any case, we procured much useful treasure from the Aboleth's lair.

Some of the others did find amusement in carefully disassembling Nathaniel's desk and loading it into one of the bags of holding. I can only imagine his reaction upon return.

We for our part returned to Khemhet, in my homeland, where I made formal warning to the city-district council of the pirate threat, and as is appropriate under such circumstances, for both surety and oversight, sent written warning directly to the central bureaucracy.

We rested and prepared for the next step. Ragnarr spent much time at the temple of Pelor, which must have been a interesting day, as he is drinking even more heavily than usual. May Pelor guide and preserve him! He also called upon aid from the planes beyond, and via that help, located for us another of the Aboleth.

We also returned to Sigil, and spent much of our newfound wealth rightly, on equipment for our cause. I found a most amazing tome which taught secrets of greater health and vitality. It shall be needed in the days to come.

Praise be to Lord Pelor, oblivion to the Aboleth!


*A*

A note next to an empty bottle on the floor.

To privateer forces Mangy group leader Nathaniel,

While we did not slay the aboleth strictly for your benefit, you are very welcome. I personally find it heartening to restore free will to the enslaved and repressed. I would recommend that you and your forces take this opportunity to choose a more honest profession, though likely you are weary of such statements and will snicker condescendingly at it.

As for your offer, we have discussed it at length and accepted it. While you are likely capable of locating us on your own, the delivery of the final artifact piece should be directed either to this plane or to Sigil, Outlands. I am sorry that I can't provide a more specific location.

A warning: While it is good that you are aware of the dangers housed inside of your facility, it should be noted that there are more than one aboleth active. Precautions against their remaining forces should be taken, as your facility is still at a key junction of ley lines. I recommend ceasing all piracy operations and refortifying the facility for the duration. Your personal experience with the Telepath Aboleth should serve you well in this endeavor.

Whether you desire it or not, you are now stationed on the frontlines in the battle for your Prime Material Subplane. I wish you luck.


With regards,

Crunch
Champion of Emotions
representing the Defenders of Subplane 3

P.S. I am sorry about the loss of your desk.

Dantroe

I have to wonder about these pirates' intentions, and our actions.  The letter left to us by Nathaniel threatened that he would turn his attentions to the the nearby Land of the Five Rivers, Arcadius's homeland, conditional upon us not causing any more damage to his base.  From his standpoint, this seems like a very generous offer, given how much damage we'd caused already.  I'm sure that that portal will not be easy to set up again.

So what do we do?  We leave, but not without his rather nice desk and what I assume must be nicer alcohol.

Given how ruthless we can assume this man to be, wouldn't that be rather like a poke in the eye in response to his offer to spare one of our group's homeland?  After reading his offer, we did cause him to suffer additional loss, which he may well see as a rejection of his terms.

This all dependent on the assumption that Nathaniel was not outright lying in his letter, which is possible.  We also gave a warning to the town in the western Land of the Five Rivers, and Arcadius sent word back to his family and the central bureaucracy.  "Hey guys, we may have just angered a group of the most powerful pirates in the world, and they might be coming after you!  Good luck!  Okay bye!"

Of course, as Arcadius tells us, the Land of the Five Rivers is far from defenseless, but it would be better to avoid conflict in the first place.  If the pirates do attack, lives will be lost, regardless of the outcome of the battle.  And for what?  For the sake of a piece of furniture and a flask.

Ragnarr: Why It's Better to be a Bastard than a Wanker

There's a lot of great reasons to be a bastard. Your parents having a wee bit too much fun out of wedlock, for starters. Hitting uppity shites in the face with a mace to get your Paladin buddies to stop trying to reason with him, that's nice too. Or, for that matter, hitting the occasional rubbish bastard while he's down to make damn sure some cleric a thousand miles away isn't going to start healing him.

But it's never a good idea to be a wanker. Nobody likes a wanker. Sure, they may think they're damn clever. They may even be clever, a bit. But they're damn likely to be so bloody busy being clever that they forget there might be a pack of bastards in their office with their damn nice desk and their damn fine liquor. And this pack of bastards might have crowbars and what have you, and a fine bag of holding to put the parts of that desk into, especially when it can be sold for funds to buy shiny things.

And especially when that pack of bastards has got a cleric who knows the will of Pelor.

Pelor doesn't want wankers to have good liquor. That's what he put his clerics on this plane for.

A short break

As we keep killing more ababliths their hold on the world is getting larger and larger. These days we find our self going to Sigel to resupply. This has me concern because I worry that their influence is spreading to quickly. It is become a wild fire. Even if we are able to kill all the abaliths the aftermath damage might be to sever. With a great void the nations might turn on themselves and we could have several years of battles and war.
Hopefully it will not come to that, but it is just a gut feeling. Anyways, we left the pirate base. We decided it was not worth clearing out since we found out their leader had left and as you know if you do not cut of the head of a group like this you accomplish anything. So we are now in Sigel resupplying. Rangar was able to track down were the next abalith is. We will be heading out there in a few more days. So in the mean time I will work on getting some gear, improving my sword and preparing for our next challenge.