Ragnarr: Whenever

Woman. That's what's missing from this adventuring nonsense.

I mean, you listen to the stories, and you figure that a lot of it's got to be shit. I mean, it can't possibly all be grand heroics, charging blindly into battle and defeating the enemy no matter what the odds, and no mention of nearly starving to death and sleeping on rocks every night.

But the stories always have elven princesses getting rescued from savage dungeons. Now I haven't got too rosy of glasses, so you figure it's not really elven princesses. Perhaps it's really average looking, fully clothed bar maids who were being paid incredibly little to do the bandit's laundry, who will be happy just to see her hated employer skewered. And perhaps she won't exactly fall into her arms, but she's got to have a sister or a mother or something who's happy to see her free.

And even if it doesn't happen every time, there's still got to be enough ladies that one, just one, might pass over the swarthy, shiny, stick up the arse paladin for an the older, shorter type. I know most tall women don't go for the type, but some do.

But where are they? I never would have thought I'd spend all of my adventuring days in places where it's impossible to even buy myself a woman.

I never thought I'd find that I'd be in a position that would give me less opportunities to interact with ladies than being a servant of Pelor. I mean, sure, I spent the huge majority of my time healing folks. And it would have been wrong to bed any of the women I healed, though every now and then they, too, had a sister who was happy for the healing. Of course, Pelor knows I always did my best to resist that kind of entanglements. Surely Pelor gives credit for trying.

But there was always that certain sort of noblewoman, usually widows, who wanted to give to the cause of Pelor but wanted something more, wanted to feel like they were participating. Usually women trying to work off the guilt of having themselves cured of a particularly strong parasite they'd picked up from a lover. The kind of woman who didn't want to just hand over a bag of gold, but who wanted a night out on the town, so to speak, visiting the sick and the poor incognito (though never touching them. That would have been too much to ask.) before returning to their homes, where they wanted nothing more than to feel like they'd touched the poor second hand, through you.

I bloody hated it. Raising funds was the worst part of the job. But if my discomfort would buy a hundred peasants food for the winter, I wasn't going to say no.

I never would have thought I'd miss that. But at least it was something.

Out here there's been nothing but that gnome woman (a bit short for my taste, and needed to calm down a bit) and the ranger who's with us now (whatever it is that makes her so damn crazy. Besides, I think she prefers the wolf).

And now we finally meet a few women, and what do we find? They're monks. Literally. And we tried to kill them earlier.

I should have found some whores before we left the city. At this rate, I can't wait to meet some undead. I feel like I'll demolish them with nothing but the fire shooting from my loins.

It's enough to make me miss my ex-wife. Bastards.

Giornale di Aurelia

That was an awful fight. Jacob and Tupper went in the Fortress. I should have gone with them. I was almost useless outside. My arrows were not flying true this day. Maybe that is a good thing though, with all we have learned.

Arcadius, Fflam, and Chris were up on the battlements. Ragnarr was healing from a distance, and I was at a distance with my bow. Mayhap I should learn some hand to hand. At any rate, they were taking out the Mages on the battlements when all of sudden, the men we were fighting dropped arms.

It turns out, the Monks and Mages have not been here all that long and a certain gnome had come here hoping to find his allies. These fine folks were fighting us to protect what we had come to retrieve so that we may protect it. All this came about because they had put Tupper and Jacob in a cell with the gnome.

The Monks handed the gnome into our hands. It took a lot of discussion, but we eventually agreed that the only way to stop this gnome was to execute him. After much ritual, Arcadius carried out the sentence.

The staff is being kept here for safe guarding and we shall keep in touch with the Monks.

It appears now that our journey shall carry us across the deserts. I did not expect this task from Hercules to take me from the beautiful green and occasionally snowy forests, to both extremes of a desert of snow and deserts of sand.

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 205

Day 205
The gnome is dead.

I never even knew his name.

We debated it at length. Ragnar wanted to put him under a geas, I wanted to bring him back to a real jail, and Arcadius wanted to behead him (well guess who the hells' in charge here). For all the good it does us, it's the best plan of action. He already proved capable of escaping common imprisonment, he's clever enough to work around any sort of geas, and if he had gotten back to his allies he could have told them where the staff is. At least we didn't make light of the deed. Arcadius held a long and somber ceremony before hacking his little head off and burning the corpse. I just can't shake the feeling I'll suddenly come up with some humane solution that would have kept him alive and the staff safe. There had to have been one.

As for one of our myriad missions… The cliff from the vision, the one where the soul of Herakles' bastard child is being held, is close to the fort, or at least closer to it than Izmir. The major cities of this region are to the south, and so south is where we are heading.

Wonder how Cogmer is doing.

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 204b

~
Well, that was unnecessarily painful. Needless to say, I am very much alive at this point (though it came in doubt several times in short succession during the past few hours). The plan was for Jacob and I to infiltrate the rear of the fort through a teleport spell and grab the staff, and for the rest of the group to provide a diversion at the main gate. Naturally this led to a rhinoceros and then imprisonment for both of us. The others fared a lot better. Eventually we all stopped hitting each other long enough to figure out the other side wasn't all that nasty, and a truce was called.

The fort belongs to a secret and ancient order of quasi-monks who task themselves with keeping the balance between good and evil. They came into possession of the staff after that illusionist came to them with it (apparently he thought they were someone else). They've been securely storing both the staff and the gnome since then. Oh yes, and they're not actually keen to kill us. That's my favorite part of all of this.

Only snare is, we can't take the staff with us. Admittedly, they've proven capable of guarding it far better than we did, and so we've agreed to keep in touch with each other by means of a communication rod. They are willing to relinquish the gnome to our custody. We've been debating on what to do with him, Ragnar says he's going to pray on the subject tonight.

Now, if you will excuse me dear spellbook, I will find a nice flat area to not bleed out on. The novelty of that may well shock me into unconsciousness.

Aurelia's Grand Adventure! or: How she came to join the party! Pt 3

The weather while sailing has been smooth. Well, for the most part. I, however, have stayed below decks with a bucket by my side. Being incapacitated by my inability to move without disgorging the contents of my stomach is really not a pleasant feeling. It does, however, give one time to think.

I remember when I was little, my Mamma always said I was destined for a life bigger than a shepherd's wife, which is what I would have become had I not followed Diana. I always thought a Ranger in service of Diana, a close relationship to my Goddess was what she had meant. I never had dreamed as a little girl that my life would lead me away from the world I know and love to this frozen, forbidding land.

When I pledged myself to Diana, I knew that my will would be as hers. I knew I would never take a husband. I knew that for the rest of my life, I would honor the hunt and the wilderness. While I knew of and respected the rest of the Pantheon, I did not expect that their wills would also be as closely tied to mine.

I pray that Diana assists me in keeping the beauty of nature in my heart, but also does not let me forget the danger that that beauty keeps.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle

Well, alls well that ends well, or so they say. No one died, and it seems that the staff is in safe hands (or as safe as we can hope). This means I can reflect on recent events.

I really must make a point of summoning more rhinos in the future. Summoning monsters to do my fighting in general seems an excellent strategy, and I see the key is to know what to summon in what situation. I've relied too heavily on elementals, when I should be making more careful choices, since I can only summon one creature per day. Perhaps I should try summoning each of the creatures that I can summon on days when we take pause and are unlikely to need such for fighting purposes. This way, I can see what their various strengths and weaknesses are.

In other matters, we're heading off into the desert on another quest. One of these days, however, I really must investigate this "Valley Between Many Places" which we have visited a number of times now. How such a place was created, and why, are matters I would greatly like to know more about. And where else does it reach to? Perhaps it's purpose is one that may aid us? Could each exit place one near each of the fortresses that we seek? I could see a mage such as Chris making great use of such a valley. Teleport, as I understand it, can only cover a distance of around 1000 miles, generally. And these fortresses may be many thousands of miles apart. But if they are all within 1000 miles of an exit from the valley, one could travel between all of them within a day and using only two uses of the spell.

While that may not be the exact purpose of the valley, I'm sure that it's exits are not placed haphazardly. Whoever (or whomever) created it, it required a lot of time and energy to create. And I'm sure the various exits and entrances are placed for a reason. Although I must also consider, based on the differences between the two tunnels I have used thus far to enter or exit the valley, that the valley may be the work of a great many entities. Perhaps whenever a wizard of enough power want's access to an easy method of travel, they simply create their own entrance to the valley.

Hypothesis aside, once I get a chance, I will have to take some time to do some serious investigation of the valley (I must make note to get some Roc repellent. Like a necklace of fireball spells). I will no doubt have to take my leave of the paladins, but perhaps it's for the best. I don't entirely like or trust their ways. Far quicker to violence than I like. And that's saying something when it bothers me.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle

So, I'm sitting in a jail cell with Tupper and that blasted gnome illusionist (I haven't let Tupper beat him, yet, because I don't want to piss off the monks, but it sure is tempting...)

Anyway, as soon as I saw the gnome, I realized that these monks we were fighting weren't the enemies we thought they were. I mean, we thought they were in league with the gnome, and here he was, imprisoned the same as we were. Which means they no doubt thought we were his allies and are fighting us on the assumption that we're part of the forces of evil that we thought they were part of. In other words, it was a complete misunderstanding. These Paladins seem to live by the philosophy "attack first, ask questions later" because I seem to have noticed this scenario happening a number of times. Ah well, hope they've learned their lesson this time.

So hopefully a guard will listen to calls for discussion, and we can end this battle before someone dies...

Ragnarr: Day Post Execution

This morning, a man was killed, because I agreed to it.

It's been a while. Since I was fighting plague in Rockstone. A hell of a way to go home, that.

I can't help but think that this has a lot in common with that plague. Only with the whole bloody world.

Then there were folks dying, too many. So many that the clerics of the plague lord came out of wherever they were hiding to help us, swearing that it wasn't their doing. I imagine they feared they'd be held to blame for it, strung up and beaten when all was said and done. Still, they helped.

Them and every other cleric who could get there fast enough. While I was still with Lucas. Still young and barely out of the caves, glad of the sunshine, and with no bloody clue what it meant when I begged him to let me go with him, to fight the plague.

The last time I saw my mother, too. After a long walk through the city, seeing the dead lying in gutters, the stink of rotting held in by the tunnels, and all she can say is "You look so glum, lad. Your's might be the last face these people see. Cheer up."

I did what I could, but it wasn't much. Tried to look happy for those poor bastards.

But it was already too late. Too many dead and too tight of space. Those tunnels sealed the plague in, let it spread too fast. I couldn't even heal yet, and even those who could couldn't cure folks as fast as it spread.

Until that bastard showed up. A priest of some evil god or other. Demanded that every family be locked in their homes with a few weeks food. No one was to be allowed out until they'd all been cured.

Only it took two months. The guard was cured first, so they could enforce the quarantine, and they did their jobs. I don't know how many died that way, and how many just sat in their homes and starved.

And my own mother, last on the list. I couldn't get her moved. It was felt that it would have been unfair.

Two months of carrying bodies to be burned. Two months where I got the plague more times than I care to think about. Spent more time being healed of the plague than anyone, I suppose.

Until we came to my mother's house. The last bloody section of the whole damn city.

And there's my mother, sitting in the dark house, the bodies of my brothers around her, and all she can say is "Why do you look so sad?"

And this, this is just bloody like that.

Except that it's the whole damn world that's got the plague. But I can't help but thinking that the only way we're going to beat these damn things is to lock up every single bastard we come across, and find a way for them to prove that they're brains not under control.

Short of that, I just don't know.

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 203-204a

Day 203
Ported in today. Chris came up with the idea of the 'traveling teleport,' in which the distant portion of the group covers the distance between the town and the cave entrance on foot during the day, and he conjures over part of the Izmir portion each night. It's very clever and it's given me ample time to study up on magic in the comforts of a major city. I don't think I'll mention this to the others.


Day 204
Last night we beat the multi-nostriled snot out of a hydra. It's not dead, but it's not moving anymore.

On our way through the cave, we found that somebody's been traipsing through there with less care than the Jangle Brigade: the tripline I found on a previous visit had been sprung. The temple is now covered in vines, interesting but not readily comprehensible. After traveling out of the valley through an old mine, we came out into another valley. This one has a fort instead of a temple, very exotic. Fort has only one entrance, no guards, no tracks to or from it, or any secret passageways in the surrounding terrain. Apparently there is a protective magical field in effect around it, but no obvious source (aside from the fort itself).

This was not to say we were alone. A monk made herself known by leaping out and breaking my nose in five places, and then what could only have been the illusionist started trapping some of the others in imaginary prisons. They fled before we could effectively strike back. Still, we're all alive and that's always good, though Ragnar is… angry and large about it. It's likely that the attack was merely a diversion to draw us away from the fort. After all, if they can move that fast, why attack us and get our attention instead of just fleeing?

We're going out now to check out the fort interior. If my journal ends here, I am likely dead. Return this journal to Brigadier-General A. Stuart at Point of Origin for a reward.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle

Date: Different Day, Same Crap.

So we played teleportation - leap frog to get closer to where we think the staff is and of course decided to leave the healer back in town as the last to come, so that when we fought the frigging Hydra we didn't have anyone to heal us. But we defeated it, finally. Although it seems to be slowly healing, so I get this bad idea that we'll have to fight it again. Won't that be delightful.

Then we headed into the valley with all the portals leading toward it. I would like to investigate the tunnels that go up someday, and see if they lead to other valleys or strange places, but that will have to wait till we aren't running to the next adventure (seems we never have time to pause and accomplish any of that stuff).

So we get back into the valley with that damnable Roc. Some day I will wield power enough to cook that thing in mid-air. But not today. So for now I kept my head low and we made it through the valley without any particular problems. Seems the temple from last time may not have been used since then.

So now we're trying to figure out what to do to get into this fortress and steal the staff back. Personally, I'd like to try just dimension-door inside with Ragnarr pointing me in the right direction. A quick attempt may catch them unprepared, but no-one in this group seems to like any of those "thinking on your feet" plans where we just go for it. Mind you, I can't blame them. Seems like whenever we try those, we end up failing utterly every time. But then we tend to fail a lot of the time when we do plan, so I'm not sure which is worse for us. And knowing my luck, any attempts to dimension-door into that fortress will get me stuck in there unable to get out, or get me stuck somewhere worse and unable to get out. Makes me wonder why I devoted myself to magic in the first place when it seems anyone who doesn't just brute-strength it gets smacked down by the universe.

Boh!

I have given up trying to even remember what day it is. I never paid attention until I started this journey, so why should it matter now?

Today we went through the valley that they all spoke of. Tropical. Very green and beautiful. But apparently there are pygmies that attack if you stay through the night. Tupper is not completely useless. Between the group they remembered trip wires and Tupper was able to find it, though it had been tripped by someone before us.

From what Ragnarr knew of the valley and my wilderness skills, we were able to navigate through to another entrance to the valley.

Once through there, we found a fortress that seemed to be abandoned. I searched the surrounding areas and found no tracks except my own. Tupper investigated and found no doors other than the main entrance.

I wanted to go knock. They kept talking about Jacob flying and seeing what he could see from above and all the talk was just getting annoying, so I started walking. Whatever is in there knows we are here, no matter how we much reconnoiter. Arcadius got me to agree to waiting over night at least, so that Chris may regain spells. I agreed.

That did not stop us from getting our culo handed to us by a monk.

Teleport (Chris)

I must say, teleport is a wonderful spell. I used the spell to take our group closer to the caves and there by eliminating a few days of travel. This is great news, because we need to track down the staff and get it back as soon as possible. We are headed to a strong hold, which we can use the caves in the valley to get us their quickly. With traveling during the day we should be able to get to the caves and teleport everyone out here in 4 days. Anyways I am going to try and learn some more spells while we are out here.

Hmm. In the future, bring the cleric with me earlier when teleporting people. I say this because we ran into a hydra today, and Ragnarr was still in Ismer. Thankfully we pulled through and stopped the hydra for now. We need to find a way to truly kill this thing, but we do not have time for it right now.

Tomorrow we head into the valley. I have been told this is a home of a necromancer mage and a group of pigmies. So I am going to prepare a lot of area spells. Hopefully we can get in and out of there with little or no issues.

Ragnarr: Day Before Getting Monkslapped

We've left town. The Seneschal was never in. He had a note left with his secretary that said that he was looking into the staff problem. I hope that he's been out just because it's a tricky problem that requires his full attention and not, say, because he's stumbled on a vast conspiracy that goes above his head and now he's lying dead in a ditch somewhere, or locked up in an asylum. Though considering how today's gone, I feel we ought to check up on him and make sure he's alright.

Because the bastards are always one step ahead of us. It's as though our enemy is an ancient force that's been planning this for thousands of years, cautiously preparing for every eventuality. Or like they know precisely what we're doing, and what manner of battle would give us the greatest trouble. Like there was some greater god, above even Pelor, who delighted in tormenting us, to see what we'll do and laugh at us squirm.

I once met an elf who claimed to follow such a god. He called him Dathilathililavid, Lord of Dungeons or some such nonsense. He felt that our world was only a story being told by that god, and we were mere players in it, and our sufferings were his joy.

He was not the most mentally stable of fellows, but sometimes I wonder if he was on to something.

Because we've found the bandit fort. Only there's no bandits. Or anybody. Just some mist. We know the staff is in there, or at least it is until someone teleports it somewhere else and the price I paid was for nothing.

We'll have to attack in the morning. The best plan anyone has is to create a ruckus at the gate, while Jacob, myself, and perhaps one other teleport in through the back and find the staff. It's risky, perhaps deadly, but I don't know what else to do, and the Paladin bastards that are supposed to have studied this sort of thing don't seem to have any other idea how to go about assaulting a keep with, apparently, no one in it.

Pelor give me patience, and grant us victory.

It seems we'll need all the help we can get.

Journal of Arcadius - Day 204

The Staff and the Valley

We must retrieve the staff from bandits, who have a fort in a far land that can be reached through the Valley of many places. It would have been a weeks journey or more from Izmir to tunnel that leads to the valley, but Chris's magic teleported us in stages to the region near there, and as he did so, we advanced further on foot. The first two nights were relatively uneventful.

The third was far from uneventful.

In the foothills, we were attacked by a powerful hydra, one that could regrow heads as the old tales claim, and even regenerate from massive amounts of harm. We overcame it, but took much injury as Ragnarr was the last to be teleported and was not yet with us.

Even Chris's Ice Storm spell did not fully destroy the thing. We left its pieces scattered, but it will return in time.

In the meantime, we have work to do.

Ragnarr joined us, healed us with the power of Lord Pelor, and we set forth. The cave was much as it had been, save the tripwire had been tripped by someone. The valley beyond was similar, even Jacob's foe, the Roc, was there. However, the ziggurat was apparently abandoned and already well overgrown with vines. Astonishing.

Ragnarr, with the aid of Pelor's servant, knew exactly where to go. We crossed the valley, entered a mine tunnel on the other side, and emerged in the land of our destination. It is a chilly windswept place, with dry plains, rocky hills, and a vast range of mountains in the distance.

The bandit's fort is a small edifice with low walls, a few ramshackle towers, and perhaps space for a hundred soldiers. However, it looks deserted. We know it cannot be. Walter-Tupper scouted around the fort and found no secret entrances or tunnels, and also no one on guard. However, aided by Chris's magic, with true sight he saw a strange mist in the center of the place. Aurelia did a wider search of the hills near the fort, looking for trails or signs of foraging. She found none.

It is likely they know we are here.

Lord Pelor, I shall be as a sword in your hand.


*A*

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 192b-202

But enough pleasantries. Miranda says the staff is in the hands of the illusionist now, and that it is essential to battling whatever evil we're facing now. Nobody in town knows about it, and it's highly likely that little bastard teleported away. Ragnar has a plan to contact a spiritual higher-up on it's current whereabouts tomorrow.


Day 193
Oi. And I thought Herakles was bad.

So we conjure up the angel of Pelor, and Ragnar makes a request for information. In order to execute Ragnar's request, we have to travel to another plane of existence and fetch a vial of water. This may be the silliest thing we've ever done. We'll need methods of breathing and flying, since this plane isn't big on such crazy concepts as "land" or "air." Fortunately, Tolliver the wizard can rent out to us the tools for just such functions, and he threw in a fork for good measure. And if we find something 'interesting' while we're over there, he'll waive the rental fees.

We set forth for the beyond tomorrow. Aerialla's staying behind for some reason. I know not all elves are aloof, but she's working to make up for that.


Day 194
I am tied to two dwarves over an infinite chasm. This is not a way to sleep.

The trip was instantaneous, bright, and… misty. We 'landed' 319 miles away from our target destination. There is no observable 'top' or 'bottom' to this place. I've done my best not to look down, but it happens sometimes and gives me the shakes.

Then the voices started. They interrogated us, one by one. Ragnar managed to make a deal of some sort with them, and wrangled expedited transit as part of it in the form of a strong wind. Now I know how leaves feel. By the end of the day, we all smelt like wet dogs, and I had to slap my legs to keep them awake.


Day 197
Oh ye gods.

We found the island today; a craggy, buzzy sort of place with a pond. Attempts to acquire the sample went as expected, at first. Eventually a medium of communication was established and yet another deal was struck, but this one was vicious. Ragnar gave up a finger, a whole finger, for something that wouldn't quench your thirst at a meal. Apparently it can't be grown back, either.

With the much-vaulted fluid (and a number of rocks and moss) in our grasp, we returned to our home plane, to an island 226 miles from Izmir. Chris says he can ferry us back via a teleport spell, but it'll take a couple days to move us all. In the meantime, we are staying at a nearby orc village and Ragnar is getting properly sloshed.


Day 200
Back and safe in Izmir. This is the weirdest week I This is the third teleport spell I've been through this week, assuming you can count the plane-hopping one. I always have this niggling fear that I'll come out on the other side upside-down. It's never happened before and I'd probably survive if it did, but still.

The Angel of Pelor came around to pick up the vial, and told Ragnar the location of the staff. We'll have to travel to the Valley of Many Places (or whatever it's called) and from there to a bandit fort. Chris' teleports can halve the travel time to the destroyed town near the entrance to the valley, but it will still be 3 days until we all get there, and we'll be without horses on the other side.

Meanwhile, the seneschal has gone out somewhere to try and help us reacquire the staff. Frankly I don't trust him, and I have the feeling we'll have to bail him out of danger, assuming he's even close to the same trail we're on.

Journal of Arcadius

Of Purpose and Sacrifice

Truly, Ragnarr is of great heart. Given the loss of the staff, bold steps were called for. Little would I have imagined how bold. Ragnarr sought help from those of the planes beyond, those in service to Lord Pelor.

A service was asked of him - to claim a bit of water from a certain pool, a pool on the Plane of Mist.

At great expense we procured magic items needful for such a journey from the mage in Izmir. He is a man of prudence and judgment, if not generosity. Upon arrival at the Plane of Mist, we were almost immediately confronted by a powerful being that was at least a lord, if not the lord, of the plane.

It told us we were unwelcome.

After much unfruitful conversation, it demanded service from us in return for refraining from attack. Ragnarr, showing a sense of duty worthy of my homeland, took on all six services himself. May none ever doubt his courage and character.

I pray that the mist lord is not hostile to our greater cause.

It turned out that the pool was a great distance away, hundreds of miles. In return for getting us gone from his plane more quickly, the mist lord transported us the greater part of the way.

Unfortunately, the pool turned out to be alive and sentient, or at least controlled by a being that was such. It resisted all efforts to remove part of itself. Finally, Ragnarr made yet another sacrifice. The pool told him he could have part of it, if he gave part of himself - a finger. He did so, at the price of swift and sudden agony.

A true servant of Pelor is he.

My memories of the next stage are, for some unknown reason, hazy, but we have made our way back. I believe at some point we were drinking with Orcs and visiting one of their shamans. I trust in faith that the results be worthy of our spent gold and Ragnarr's great sacrifices.

Praise and glory to Lord Pelor.

*A*

The plane boss the plane

I was pleasantly surprised to see how many interesting item and magical items there are in the planes, to bad they come with a heavy price. One that Ragnarr paid for us. It is moments like these that remind me why I have been friends with him. He has always been willing to put in the extra effort and sacrifice so much to do Pelor’s will. He has a far stronger faith then I. Anyways, we got some water for payment for a spirit Ragnarr summoned, hopefully this will help us track down the person who has the staff. I am right now sitting in Ismer having teleported both Paladins back; I figured it would be a good idea to get them out of the Orc camp. I would hate for them to go attacking an Orc, just because he is evil. We do not have time right now to fight a way with a Orc tribe, not to mention from the stories I have read not sure if I would like to ever be at war with them. It will take a couple more days to teleport the rest of the group here, so I might finally have a little bit of free time to start reading this spell book and learning some of the illusion spells. It would be nice to have some spells that could be used to distract creatures in future battles.

On a side note I need to find a way to earn some gold. I am quickly running out and if we plan on having a chance against this evil I am going to need a lot more gold to prepare for the battles to come.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle

Date: Some time after the last time I wrote in this damn book.

So, I finally was able to talk to someone about whatever it is that's been hovering over my shoulder. I'm still not quite sure what it was, and the orc shaman basically pointed out the obvious for me: if it wanted to communicate with me, it would have done so by now; and no doubt it's here because it's curious about us and what we're doing. I still don't know exactly what it is, but maybe that doesn't matter. The more important question is whether this thing is a potential ally for the group or a potential adversary. If neither, it doesn't really matter, but frankly, if it's been following me this long, it must be planning something, unless it's just eternally bored and simply enjoys a good show. Which I suppose is possible, but is it worth the risk that this thing might eventually make it's presence known at the worst possible time? Hard to say, I'll have to meditate on that for a while.

Ragnarr: Day Drinking With Orcs

I hope this staff is worth it.

If what the druid says is true, it certainly is. If this thing can drive the watery bastards back into the ocean, I'm all for it. If they would take their gnome with them, it would be most appreciated.

But a wee bit of me can't help but wonder if this is some kind of elaborate ruse, the watery bastards throwing us some horse shit about a staff, so we'll run around after it instead of doing what really needs done, whatever that is. The temples, perhaps?

If that's the case, it's a damn fine trick. With what we've got, we can't very well not go after the bloody staff.

But by Pelor's beard, this thing has cost me enough.

I never thought I'd be in debt to a planar lord. Hell, I never much thought I'd ever meet one. When I was a wee lad, I never thought "Whatever will I do if I meet an angry planar lord?" If the little human boys at the orphanage had even brought it up, I'd have probably punched them in the groin for making shite up.

Only now I owe the bloody bastard six favors. And for what? For permission to take something of his. Except we didn't. We took something from some bastard puddle that wasn't part of the mist lord's domain. Six bloody favors for nothing but him not having a shiteload of elementals kick us in the arse. Which is mighty nice of him, in an "I'm a giant arsehole" kind of way.

And the puddle's got my finger.

This hasn't been my day.

But for all that, it could have been worse.

We're all alive.

We didn't have to kill anything. I didn't have to heal anybody. We did it all without anybody needing to be violent.

We know where the staff is. It's somewhere we can get it. Probably by killing some folks, it's true, but at least we've got the bastards who are good at that.

And tomorrow, Pelor will wake up in the morning, and it'll be a better day.

It can't be any bloody worse.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle

Date: a sad, sad day indeed.

Alas! Grungar is leaving! My beloved Donk! None of the others were nearly so predisposed to helping me with research when I needed to see what happened when something got smashed!

Ah well, I guess I'll just have to find a new meat-shield to encourage into smashing things. Round these parts they seem to be plentiful. But truly, Grungar was a Donk among Donks!

Journal of Grungar the Masher, Day 177-193 (final entry)

Okay so today we see spookys. They were faraway but scary. :o

Okay so today we see smoke. City is on fire! Chris send us there really fast!

Okay so today city was on fire. Many people did badmash to other people and that is bad.
Tupper sad that they trap ghostlady in hole. Tupper also angry that other friends point that out. Poor Tupper. :(

Okay so today we are at a beach!
We find a thing full of bad things. I try to mash a bad thing but I do not and also I fall over.
Evil man also try to mash bad thing but it just get shiny.
We go back to Izmir for things.

Okay so today I see mommy! I give her moneys from goodmash.
I bring Ragnar and Arkadesh to see mommy, they tell her about our playtimes.
They ask mommy if I can go to big city to be Pal of Dan! Mommy is very happy! I am very happy! Hooray!

Okay so today we was put in jail because I drink bad. But nice lady let us out!
Arkadesh and Ragnar gave me paper! Now I leave for big city! I will learn all about Dan and mashing bad things and be the very best!


Okay so today I learn first lesson. Big city is not north.

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 176-192a

Day 176
An intruder in the camp last night: a malicious illusionist. We managed to capture him alive. This is all I wish to record on the subject, as I wish to slowly rebuild my faith in the overall competency of our group.


Day 180
Night watch saw a circle of ten ghosts in the woods, one of which was the now-infamous elf woman. That, coupled with a dream… vision… thing in which she thanked me for 'freeing' her, is a bad sign. So the gravesite's been activated, but how? Did someone else stumble upon it, or was it only a matter of time? What did it actually do? Is this a sign of weal or woe? Am I finally rid of those embarrassing dreams? Will I ever be able to answer any of these questions? Bah.


Day 182
Smoke on the horizon. Looks to be coming from the town next to the gravesite. We've been moving in to investigate.


Day 183
Last night the prisoner disappeared. Aerialla tried to track where he went, with no success. Khris tried to dispel any spells in effect, with no success. Jacob tried peering into the invisible spectrums for him, with no success. Arcadius tried stabbing the cart where the prisoner had been, and found the little bastard. If we are the best hope for defending Point of Origin, then they better start evacuating the city now.

As for the town, it's in ruins. No corpses, no weaponry, just footprints and debris. The entrance to the tomb looks like it was hit by a siege engine. Naturally my interest in finding out what they were seeking to hide down there was viewed upon as the lustings of a romantic by the others.

We're following the footprints west out of town, towards the coast.


Day 184
The trail lead into the water. Signs of boats hauled up on the beach, as well as campsites. We found a pot in the sand that was full of gas, 5 quartz crystals, needles and ink, and a black crystal ball at the bottom. Attempts to mangle the contents went as expected, which was nowhere. Nothing else of note in the area.

Heading back towards Izmir.


Day 191
Izmir, just as I left it. Well, save that they replaced the cart. And the acid crater dried up.

Ragnar turned in the illusionist to the authorities before he and Arcadius visited with Grungar's mother. Apparently, Grungar has what it takes to be a paladin. The potential for sarcastic commentary on this development is far too great. He's leaving for Point of Origin tomorrow to join up with the Order, and I can't say I'll really miss him. I don't know, it just seems like every time we lose a yahoo we gain another one soon afterwards.


Day 192
Oh gods damn it.

The seneschal sent a small army to arrest all of us last night. The officer in charge, a Captain Ooler, had one of those damn crystal pendants. I'd like to be hopeful and positive, but if 'They' are this far inland then Point of Origin is likely also under 'Their' control. Hells' bell. For the record, the crimes were kidnapping, highway robbery, and assault of that damn wizard. Those would be valid charges if he didn't attack first (and he damn well did); and when it's the word of an illusionist against the word of paladins, and when you're as thick in the head as the seneschal, then the course of action is clear.

Fortunately, Miranda came around and vouched for us later in the day. But, after a modest 100 gold fine, we discovered that a very important staff of ours fell off the gear roster during the night. The seneschal said he'll find somebody to look into it. I'm willing to bet that person will be big on unrefined jewelry.

After that, Grungar took the opportunity to leave for Point of Origin. May St. Cuthbert watch over him, as he'll need a lot of adult supervision and will likely eat his letters of recommendation on the way.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle

Date: Today Is A Good Day To Diet.

I'd say that I really hate gnomes, but that would be racist, and I've gotten beyond that. The truth is, I really hate one specific gnome. He also happens to be an illusionist, and while I could hate all illusionists, I don't, because that would be similar to being racist, except with respect to a specific class. Would that make me a "classist"? Hmm, I'll have to ponder that for a while.

Anyway, the point is, I really hate that Gnome Illusionist. The one who made fools of us, and then after we sent him to prison he made fools of us again, got us thrown in jail for a night, and helped "liberate" us of a very powerful staff. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...

I guess what I'm saying is we can't fully blame the gnome illusionist, we also have to blame ourselves. Although I'd note the paladins didn't exactly have much of a choice. They have to obey the law. I'm not sure what else they could have done but give all their weapons (and the staff) to the guards when they were arrested. I blame myself. As one of the few who doesn't have to absolutely follow the law, I may have been one of the only ones who could have taken that staff and made off with it until the others were able to get out of there.

Not that they would have trusted me to do so. Probably would have just ended up with them all coming after me trying to kill me. And let's not get into how Pelor would no-doubt punish me by blinding me or something for breaking the law, even if it was for the greater good. Makes me wonder why I spend time with a bunch of people who'd sooner kill me than trust me. I'll admit, I've made mistakes, but that's what they were, mistakes. I'm not actively trying to be harmful or malicious. Perhaps I can do more good for the world on my own.

Letter of Recommendation for Grungarr

Hello, there.

I'm not so sure how to go about this letter writing thing, so forgive me if I don't do it so well. I'm a cleric, not a scholar.

Anyway, I'd like to recommend Grungarr for Paladin training. Heracles has been talking to him a bit, now. Though Grungarr calls him Dan. I'm not sure if that's really a problem. I've been assuming that Dan is some sort of secret name for Heracles or something, but he might just be a bit daft.

He's a brave fellow, though. Strong, too. Fearless in a fight, and damn useful, as long as he's following somebody's orders. I don't know if hell ever be much of a commander, but they can't all be.

And besides, that's why he needs the training. He means well, but his bravery is naive, and it's been known to get people killed. If the gods want him, I say it's better to let them have him, and make sure he's trained to use his skills in ways that will help folks.

If you doubt his skills, especially with a hammer, give the lad some fat beets. You'll understand.

-Ragnarr, Cleric of Pelor

Day: After Arrest

Pelor, forgive me for the misuse of your name I may have committed. I do my best to save my worst curses for occasions that truly deserve them. Please believe me when I say that this was one of those.

I have never felt any particular dislike of gnomes. The only one I met was that terribly small one, and she seemed a decent sort, but I'm beginning to understand why so many hate gnomes so much.

The staff is gone. Likely in the hands of our enemies as we speak. Which is tricky, for the paladins, because our enemies may be the rightful rulers of this city.

They arrested us in the middle of the night, woke me up from a lovely, deep sleep, to drag us to jail for having attacked and robbed the gnome. Of course they didn't ask us for our opinion. The word of an illusionist highwayman weighs far more than that of Paladins and priests.

I'd like to meet the judge who made that ruling. I feel he must have a punchable face.

Heh. That would make the Paladins happy.

Now we're left with fairly desperate options to even locate the staff. We'll find it, Pelor willing, but not without cost.

There is always a cost. I can only hope this is one I can pay.

Failure

Pelor guide me, because I can not seem to do anything right. I have failed my comrades three times in these past few days. First, we came across an illusion wizard and everything spell I cast seemed to do more damage then good. First I try and sleep the wizard and fail. Then later in the battle when he cast invisible on himself I attempted to use glitter dust to reveal his location, but I missed him and only blinded my allies. Thankfully Ragnarr was able to cast a spell that removed the illusionist’s spell because I was at a loss. I had no idea what I should do next.

The second failure came when I was on watch and the illusionist made it appear like he escaped. I was not able to see through or dispel his spells. Thankfully Aracdius was there and found a way to break the spell.

The third and the worst happened tonight. We were placed in jail by the people of Ismer and I failed to protect the staff we took from the enemy. The group gave it to me to protect and I failed them and now it is back in the hands of the enemy. It makes me sick to my stomach knowing how poorly my decisions and action have been lately. Warriors of Pelor deserve better then this. I am just not sure if I can do better.

LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION

To the reverend and pious prelates of the temples and to the honored masters of the orders. Wise lords in the City of Point of Origin.

Hail!

Before you stands Grungar, a warrior far more formidable than his youth would make it appear.

Know that he has traveled with me and with my companions to the far North, upon the frozen wastes, under the depths of the sea, and into ancient fastnesses, and there fought powers of evil and darkness.

Know that he has endured danger and hardship with a stout heart and a clear conscience.

Know that he is pure of heart, noble, and selfless.

Know that he is guileless, without pretense, and will listen to instructions and obey as duty commands.

Know that he has been called by at least one among the blessed gods, Lord Heracles.

I swear before my Lord Pelor, and the gods at large, that I believe he would make a fine Paladin.

Honor be to you, and glory to the gods.

*A*

-Ar-Khadesh, called Arcadius in these lands, Paladin of Pelor

Journal of Arcadius - Day ???

Accursed Gnome

I was in communion with Lord Pelor - my task is laid before me.

While I was such, we were attacked by a Gnome illusionist. WHY never became clear. However, he gave the rest of the party much trouble. Even once subdued, he kept trying to escape rather than talk to us in any way. One night, he turned invisible and seemed to have disappeared. I only found him by poking randomly with my sword in the area of the cart where he was likely to be.

THEN, in Izmir, when we turned him over to the authorities, he somehow convinced them that we were at fault, and we were arrested as highway robbers and only able to buy our way out with fines of 100 gold each.

Pelor give me the patience for mercy.

Then again, something else, something deeper and fouler, is at work.

The staff, the very piece of the staff of the gods, if legends be true, has disappeared!

When we were arrested, it vanished in the hands of the police. Some person or persons among them is in league with the evil powers from beyond. Curse them, betrayers of the world itself! This makes clear certain other strange things. For, why did the Kingdom of Izmir not react when its port of Umea was blocked by obvious magic? Why did it not react when a dragon was burning its towns, or raiders from the sea were roaming free, and more recently destroyed a city? A city we witnessed burning! And yet, there was no outcry, no army marched out, not even an alarm seems to have been raised!

Strange indeed.

In the meantime, Grungar is leaving us, and after some guidance from we who follow Lord Pelor, has chosen the most honorable path of the Paladin. He leaves shortly for Point of Origin, and I at least shall write him a letter of recommendation!

As for the rest of us, it seems our path leads far away again - this time to the South and East, beyond even my country. I have heard distant tell of the land we may travel to, and at least it is not supposed to be in the grip of vile demon-worshipers like our near neighbors.

Glory to the gods.
Honor to Lord Pelor.
Life for the world.
Defeat for its enemies.

*A*

Journal of Arcadius - Day 175

Umea

After much travel from the farthest north to merely the far north, we have returned to Umea. The city is in even worse straights than before, as its trade has all but completely evaporated. We visited Stonekeep on the way back, and though I dislike it, we purchased useful supplies and equipment there, as it now flourishes. Curse the evil ones!

Our horses were very well cared for in our absence, and have grown a bit fat. We were gone for a long time, and I'm glad the innkeepers did well by the funds we left them. Alas, our horses will have no such ease in the days to come. We are getting ready for the trip to Izmir, and from there, to far parts of the world. We have done so much, yet in truth, we have only just begun this struggle.

The gods will it, and so we must do, for the sake of the world.

Yet strange is fate.

For Walter-Tupper is here, in Umea, and apparently is to rejoin us.

Pelor, I shall do your will, and be patient.


*A*

Aurelia's Grand Adventure! or: How she came to join the party! Pt 2

Lucrezia and I have arrived in Stonekeep. Hercules has told me that this was a place where there was supposed to be a great battle, but the group showed up late. Apparently, there was no battle at all and as far as the townsfolk are concerned, there hasn't even been a change in regime. Rather interesting! From here he has directed me to get a boat to some small fishing village across the sea. He says that is the direction the group is headed and it would just be easiest to meet them there.

I hate sailing! I have managed so far to make it this far without a boat. I don't like the motion. It makes me sick to my stomach. Alas, Hercules says across the sea I must go, across the sea I go! Diana, Hercules may end up owing you when all is said and done!

Aurelia: Day 172ish?

Hercules says this is a good idea, but I keep forgetting to write in this damned thing! I have missed many days worth of writing! Not only that but I have quickly lost track of which day it is exactly. We have long since left the small fishing village where I joined the group. We sailed to Stonekeep. I finally acquired for myself a magic weapon. From there we sailed to Ismere where they acquired their horses and I acquired one of my own. They are glorious beasts, but I am quite uncomfortable atop one. Alas, since I cannot travel as fast on foot as these beasts, I must ride. Lucrezia is having no problems keeping pace.

On the road from Ismere to Umea, we met a tricky little saboteur. The gnome snuck into the camp and set off the bandoliere of Alchemist's Fire that Fflam had upon his person. While everyone stared at the fire, I called the alarm on the gnome and started to persue. The bastard (forgive my language Diana!) was an illusionist and gave us quite the fight. A few people were blinded. Jacob mistook Fflam for the gnome. Grungar started attacking Jacob. Once we had the gnome tied up and Grungar under a rock (literally!) we patiently waited for the time we could let Grungar out and he wouldn't try to kill Jacob.

Once we reached Umea, we went to the Senechal to ask about going to the Grove. We were told that they must give us a pass, but they would not do so at night. While we cooled our heels at the Inn, I was the only one to hear the knocking. It was the Town Guard. We were promptly arrested because of the gnome, whom by the way, we had turned over to the Senechal! That crafty little bastard! Again, Diana, forgive my language!

Thanks to the help of Miranda, I believe her name to be, we were released the following morning.

Journal of Grungar the Masher, Day 156-176

Okay so today no boat.

Okay so today no boat.

Okay so today boat but not our boat.

Okay so today no boat.

Okay so today no boat.

Okay so today not our boat.

Okay so today no boat.

OKAY SO TODAY I SEE DAN AGAIN AND HE TELL ME HE IS STUCK IN SHINY BALL AND I HAVE TO SAVE HIM OKAY also no boat.

Okay so today boat! We get on boat! It is our boat!
Boat has person from faraway! Other friends know him!
New friend is shinybuttons and skinny. His name is Tipper and he is grumpy. |:<

Boat is scary. If you fall off boat then you fall reely long way rilly slow.
But I stay on boat! I will find Dan again and free him again because I am good friend of Dan!! again

Okay so boat ride was rilly scary for journal, because journal hate water and WATER IS EVERYWHERE :O
But I keep journal safe, and now we at dragon-head keep so I can write in it again. :D
Everyone gone out and buy new things!

Okay so today we get on boat. Boat go to Uumiyah so we go to Uumiyah.
Maybe friends bought everything in dragon-head keep! hee hee! Now we go buy everything in Uumiyah! hee hee hee!

Hello journal! We get to Uumiyah!
Everyone got horses there! They are neat and smell bad!

Okay so today Fflam exploded.
Then REALLY SMALL MAN come to scare us so we go and hit him!
Then there was a dragon and a big mean doggy and the BEST RAINBOW EVERS and then the small man went away but he came back!!
Then JACOB WAS EVIL and SHOOTING FIRE AT FFLAM and FLYING so I chase him because he was evil!!!
I throw beethammer at him but he make it fall back down at me but Ragnar keep me safe with giant rockball!!!!
I had to stay in timeout until Jacob stopped being evil. :(

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 156-175

Day 156
There was a patrol around the caravan last night. They passed by every 5 minutes and the spell woke me up every single time. Fortunately it only lasted for TWO SOLID HOURS. I have not made friends so far today.

I keep thinking about what I did to the old gnome. Sure, his methods were nigh-inscrutable, and he had no respect for the citizenry, or humans, or really anything sentient above 3'6"; but if it wasn't for him, that murderer would still be on the loose. He taught me everything I know about locks, gears, and magic. And I sold him out, just like Krof the Swonker and Henny Bluefingers all those years ago. Is this law enforcement? Will this journal be used as evidence to convict someone else I know? Will I be required to rat out every friend I have at the drop of a hat?

Maybe it's just the company I used to keep. Maybe.


Day 157
Dreamed of the ghost woman again. I guess ol' Moana missed me. From what I can recall, the dreams used to occur close to that underground ritual grave site where her body is. If they're hitting me way out here now, then maybe there's more energy being pumped into that region than before. It's worth investigating later.

Criminals abound in the caravan today. A young girl approached me for help in finding the dire thief who stole her doll. After intensive review of the facts, scouring the crime scene for clues, and spotting her younger brother awkwardly trying to hide the doll between two sacks of grain, I reported my findings and was rewarded with the act of being ignored while she wailed on her sibling. Another job well done.

Finally got into Ismere, will seek the whereabouts of the others after rediscovering the joy of a real bed.


Day 158
Attempts to hit the dirt did not go exactly as planned. An old man in a bar stood up and saluted me. A woman asked me if I could find her missing son. The uniform really gets to people. It also makes normally chatty people go quiet, but I've learned to work around that (thank you Hat of Disguise).

Excluding one story of them flying up into the sky on the backs of winged donkeys, all signs point to their sudden lack of reappearance after they entered the druid grove. They may very well be dead, or trapped in a time hole, or eaten by trees. So the task became that of finding someone who could look into the state of the group without risking life or limb to do it. The best option? Magic. The best magical practitioners? Wizards. And there just so happened to be one in town. (Two, actually, but one of them sort of felt… wrong.)

The good news is, Tolliver the wizard can find my friends. The bad news is, he won't do it for less than 400 gold. The better news is, he has a job that requires my particular skills. About a week back, somebody sold him a big hefty chest; one that's laden with magical traps, dangers, and treasure, apparently. If I can open it, he'll cast the divination for free. If I can't, then I'm probably dead from the attempt. Still, it doesn't look too hard and it beats begging on the street.


Day 159
Any day you start by accidentally setting your employer ablaze is not likely to be a good day.

I worked out what magical function the goggles fulfill: eye protection. If it's not what they're meant to do, it is now. As my esteemed sciences teacher once said, "Having nothing between the eyeball and the universe is just inviting it to jab something sharp into it." Whether he meant the universe jabbing your eyes or the other way around was never actually clear, now that I think about it.

Ah yes, the chest. First there were the glyphs. While examining one on the back side of the chest, I set it off, lighting a nearby weapon rack on fire. Tolliver came in when he heard the ruckus, and triggered another glyph when he tried to put the flames out. Fortunately it was all extinguished before it could spread far, and he had some salve lying around for his burns. This was about the point I decided to move it outside.

After that were the dart traps, which kicked in after the last of the glyphs were disab sprung. They were relatively easy, at least until one of them hit a cat. The agony of having to explain the situation to the animal's owner was slightly muddled when the damn thing woke up mid-apology and tried to claw my face off. Oh yes thank heavens little Publius is okay.

Next there was the acid trap, likely built to liquidate any assets inside if I slipped up on the locks. So I found a sturdy tree to suspend it under, broke out the ol' block and tackle, hoisted it up, dug a small ditch beneath it, and drilled a hole in the side. This, in retrospect, must have triggered the summoning of the gigantic badger. At first it was almost sort of friendly: it treed me fairly quickly, where it would shake the trunk once in a while. Then I shot it, and it got angry. Needless to say, I escaped alive; but the tree, two clotheslines, a fence, and a small cart died noble deaths at it's claws.

Finally, there were the locks. The locks did not go as smoothly as the rest.

At any rate the job was done, the treasure was bountiful, and the shop was mostly intact; and so Tolliver held up his end of the bargain and performed the ritual. He says they're alive and well on Emos Island, far off the coast of Point of Origin. Verifying the safety of the druid grove was not included in our deal; but since he's given me proof that entering it is not a death sentence, I'm sure I can check it out on my own.
…probably.


Day 160
Ye gods am I sore.

I panicked over nothing. First thing I see after I jump the fence into the grove (only one guard, another poor tactical move Mr. Chuck Sane-People-Into-Asylums) is Miranda at the ready to kill me with trees. She said she doesn't know of an Emos Island, but she knows of the area that the wizard described. However, without knowing exactly which island it is, a teleport to the wrong one could leave me stranded. But, she can (and did) send me back to Point of Origin where I can work it out from there. She was even nice enough to send the horse along.

After discreetly checking said horse in at the stables, I made my way to the docks and found a boat that stops in the region of the island on its way to Stonekeep (?! Well, technically they're not accepting trade from them…). The captain hasn't heard of Emos Island either, but he's willing to wait a day or so at their first port of call while I ask around about it. All for the low price of 100 gold, the last of my money. The ship leaves tomorrow at sunrise. It better be worth it.


Day 161
Dreamed of the ghost, again. There may be some kind of curse at work on me, I'll have to remember to consult a priest about it.

The boat is, well, a boat. Laden with crates of rubyred beets, fishing supplies, a bored crew, and a drunken old man known only as "Sad Jack." I do not normally enjoy travelling by boat; none of this rallies me to feel otherwise.

The crew don't know anything about Emos Island, which is strange. You'd think there would be somebody on board with knowledge of all those little islandlets or what have you.
~
EMOS = SOME. I am seeking some island.

No wonder nobody heard of it. Gods damn it, I am an idiot. That wizard sent me off on a dead turkey hunt and is probably laughing his hat off at me. Now I'm en route for an enemy keep and I can't afford a return trip home. Hells' bell, I can't afford a return trip to my cot. Damn it all.


Day 163
Religion and You says that "visions from outside your chosen deific-based praise-sources are Their way of being a useful meta-moralistic guide to what they omni-perceive to be your personal etho-concerns." My vision last night disproves this, specifically the bit about being 'useful.'

So… somewhere in the world is Alcander's immortal soul in an oversized earring. My task, as I understand it, is to team up with Fflam, a half-elf woman, and a small green barricade in an effort to free the soul from its place of imprisonment, which is inside a laboratory inside a cliff. No specific cliff, just a sandy one. Another sound reason to worship St. Cuthbert: he doesn't fuck with you like this. If I ever come across a Temple of Heracles, I'm going to beat their high priest with a map.

Bah, like I'm one to talk about maps.


Day 164
Thank you St. Cuthbert in all your infinite glory. I found them! They were practically waiting for me at the dock!

Mind you, they're still jerks. I've been away for over three weeks, and their first question to me is about the ghost woman. Oh I'm fine, thanks for asking, I've just been force-marched through sewers, assaulted by giant animals, and tasked with the impossible by a pantsless god, that's all. Only three people are left from the original group, and they've managed to find someone thicker in the head than Alcander. They've also accumulated another dwarf and two half-elves. At least the gnome and her damnable "Ballad of Tupper's Ghostfucking" isn't with us anymore. Of course, that just means she's out spreading the song around…

Ahh, it's good to be back.


Day 165
Another Moana dream. Maybe the others are right, maybe I have some repressed undead fetish. But how do you confirm something like this, outside of discreet deals with a necromancer and lots of soap? Is there a spell to discern it? Maybe I'm just blowing it out of proportion. Bah.

Also, the new dwarf has reportedly been feeding sharks to other sharks, and has felt so guilty about this that he requested the forgiveness of a sun god. I don't even know.
~
The half-ork made a sculpture of a dog out of beets. Just beets. It's surprisingly realistic, given the medium. I'll be damned if I eat it, though.


Day 169
Gods damn it this is getting to be too regular for my tastes.

We arrived at Stonekeep at last. Everyone except Grungar (the half-ork) has gone into town for supplies. Apparently it was a long and grueling three weeks for them as well. Also they're giving money to an enemy fortress, but hey. As for Grungar, he's been going on about how amazing 'Dan' is and how they're the best of friends. Apparently, Dan is a small child in a 'cold town.' Dan is also a fellow stuck in a marble somewhere whom he has to free, and also… a man wearing a loincloth that appears in his dreams and tells him what to do. I don't think I like the half-ork anymore.


Day 170
And we get right back on a boat. We're heading out to Oohmaya to retrieve our horses, and because a nexus of insidious evil is probably not the best place to use as a hangout. Kris, the wizard, was kind enough to foot my boat fare. At least this boat doesn't have that Jack bastard aboard. Ye gods, that man would not stop complaining.


Day 173
I don't know why, and I don't care anymore. I just want it to stop.


Day 175
Oohmaya! Still as ice-locked and depressing as ever, but now with less greenery. Likely the result of another spell meant to drive more business to Stonekeep. Tomorrow we ride forth to Ismere, presumably to ask Miranda if she can send us offto the cliff. I've been paired up with Grungar since he doesn't have a horse. The little git made a squirrel out of cabbage for me in gratitude. Hooray.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle aka Irwin Foster Dundee III

Day: Today.

So I'm not going to delve into how ridiculous we looked fighting a single gnome illusionist. Mostly because I don't actually know how we looked, as I was blind for most of it. Suffice it to say, I now hate illusionists, especially of the gnome variety.

And I don't want to remember this day any more, let alone talk about it. Maybe tomorrow will be a less sucky day.

Adventuring is not like the stories.

Ahhhh. I am so sick. What the hell is wrong with me? I keep throwing up. Where is Ragnarr when you need him? He needs to cure o crap…..

Man I hate this place. First I almost get die now I can not stop throwing up. I am going to go to bed. Hopeful some reset will help. O Pelor not again….


Well I am feeling better today, which is good since I am getting on the boat soon. Meet an older alie of Aradius and Flam. He goes by the name Tupper. He is kind of an odd fellow, not very confident either, but over all seems like a decent person. Well be interesting to learn more about him on the boat ride.

Well on the high seas. Our plan is to try and get to the desert area in our vision. We are going to head to a town called Ismer, there is a druid there that might be able to teleport us to the desert. If she can not it is on the way so not all is lost. Well we have several days of travel ahead of us. We are going to dock in Stonekeep, hopefully I can get some spell items there. I need to start making some more scrolls. Anyway, I need to go do my part as a crew member. Man I miss my days of just studying.

Well we are not far from Ismer the local land does not look like what the group had described it as. There must be something going on. So far the journey has been quite, which is a good thing. Keeping watch is a slow and boring thing. I wonder if there is a spell I can learn so I can spend more time studding instead of looking for things that are trying to kill us. Anyway looks like my watch is over.

Ragnarr: Day Gnome

I'm not a violent man.

I mean, really. I got into serving Pelor to help people, heal people, do good in the world and all that.

I'm not an adventurer, not really. A nip down a road to a new town, maybe, once I've done all the good I can in the last one. But once I find a place that needs me, I'm happy to install myself as a fixture in the inn between doing whatever good needs done.

I hadn't the foggiest notion of why Pelor chose me to help these Paladins along. I thought perhaps he'd gone daft, confused by the shininess of my armor into thinking that I knew what in blazes I was doing. I heal folks. Perhaps do a bit of light augury, weather reading, that sort of thing. But adventuring?

I think I understand, now. Pelor is forgiving, he's loving, all that. He'd like nothing better than to help folks, same as I would.

But there's another side of him. The side Arcadius gets, that I've never really known. The side with a temper. The vengeful side.

The thing is, before that big damn fish, I didn't get it. I looked at Arcadius and figured that he was chosen by Pelor, sure, but that I was here to maybe calm him down a bit, get him to deal with things without smashing them sometimes.

And that may be. But more than that, I think maybe I needed to work out how to step in myself. How to get my own bloody hands dirty when there's a fish so big the bastards I might heal can't even touch it.

How to beat the bastards down when it's what's called for, without having to summon some poor bastard spirit to do it for me.

Today I learned. If I had stuck with healing, I could have watched as the idiots I'm supposed to protect bludgeoned away at each other. There would have been nothing I could do but listen to the laughing of that damn gnome as he toyed with the weaker minded of us.

Instead, I could act. For a change, I learned what it feels like to be the fist of Pelor's vengeance. To feel his anger at the mistreatment of those he has chosen to protect.

And I'm still angry. That gnome hasn't nearly seen his fit punishment.

That is my question, now. What sort of punishment would fit this crime? What geas would Pelor deem righteous to purge this illusionist of his sins?

Of this, I am not sure. But I'm sure Pelor wants this lad punished, and that I'm the bastard to do it.

I can only pray that Pelor guides my punishment rightly.

Journal of Grungar, Day 155

okay so not today. I mash me becauze I hurt inside.
Then I mash a spooky kitty!
Then spooky guy make eyes go dark.
Then stuff happened I dunno.

OKAY SO TODAY. Ragnar turn on lamp in eyes!
Then we go down into spookydark water and fight big cale kalimary.
It give bad hugs. Very bad hugs. :{
Then we find big plate full of evil. I break it good! I am good friend of Dan! ):D
Place was bad, it did not like breaking bad plate and it exploded.
We leave fast and meet with elflady again. She is happy and gave us a shiny!
This is best day evers!

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 155

Day 155
Should have figured they wouldn't just let me leave town.

A note was waiting for me with the innkeeper when I got down for breakfast; I was to report to headquarters immediately. They briefed me on my 'new' mission (I don't need to file regular reports any more, but I do need another new journal), gave me some documents to sign and important papers to give to Arcadius, and then they sent me down to the armory… for my own official suit of Sable Lions armor. To think I used to loathe the sight of it. All those shiny copper rivets… the signal whistle alone is like some exotic tin treasure.

The day was uphill from there. They found the thief that stole from my room, but not before he had a chance to buy his buddies a round or twelve. Still, I got most of it back and well, with a constabulary horse, being a bit more late wouldn't hurt; besides, carrying around lots of money has already proven to be bad luck… so I popped into Churm's for a minute. And there it was, sitting on a fake dragon's head, something I've wanted on-and-off ever since I was a boy: a Hat of Disguise.

This is one of my better ideas. Magic things, as I understand it, give off an aura that wizards and the like can detect. Now if you're an arcane scumball looking for your next mark, and you see a guy on a horse with shiny new Sable Lion armor, a big crossbow on his back, and an illusion-type field coming from his head, you're probably going to figure he's some smarmy merchant playing at being a big bad blackcat. You swoop in for an easy score, and end up bound and laid out on the back of my horse (well, maybe). Of course, if you're just a regular scumball, all you'll see is an armored rider who can shoot you before you can get into range yourself, and hopefully deduce that it's not worth the effort. Admittedly my cumulative magical-aura field will probably give me away, but the inclusion of a illusion field should cast enough doubt. After all, what kind of crazy scooper buys an expensive magical item and doesn't use it?

(Also, those 'sewer' goggles that the old gnome gave me are apparently magical too, though Churm wouldn't go into details without money. So I got that going for me.)

After all of that, I managed to catch up with the caravan after sunset. Tried casting a spell before settling down for the night. Hardly had to look at the spellbook to boot (less than anticipated, anyway). If my translation is correct, this will trigger a silent alarm when anyone within… let's call it 20 feet, approaches me without saying the password. I'd try out the other spell I've been working on, but the first one was tiring enough and there aren't any cliffs near here anyway.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle aka Irwin Foster Dundee III

Day: it's night-time not day-time, stupid!

Dear Diary,

So, I just woke up from this bizarre dream, and I had to tell you about it!

It started out with this sarcophagus, and so initially I thought it was like any of my other sarcophagus related dreams, where I gain UNIMAGINABLE POWER!!!

But then I realized there were no sexy devil chicks dancing around like there normally are in such dreams, so I realized this was something else. As I watched, some scared elf guy tried to escape some creepy elf chick, who would refer to him as “Beloved” but was all like “Your sacrifice will not be in vain” and “This is how it must be”. I notice that when people say stuff like that, they rarely say it about themselves. It’s almost always someone ELSE who has to make the sacrifice or whatever. BLOODY BASTARDS!

Anyway, the short of it is that she casts this powerful spell (and I’ll note, the guy who she was “sacrificing” was no magical slouch himself, I haven’t heard of Thaumaturgy (blood magic) being used in some time. It’s both damn powerful and damn rare. Only guy I ever knew who seemed to know much about it was this jerk named Victor I knew years ago. I never quite trusted him. I mean, seriously, they say I’m obsessed with gaining knowledge and power, but this guy! But I digress…)

So this powerful chick who the powerful guy is terrified of performs this ritual that lasts for three days and nights. After she’s done, she takes this crystal which appears to have been altered by the ritual (and no doubt has been filled with a metric-crap-ton of arcane energy) and puts it with this staff, creating the mythical staff that we’ve now found one third of! (It was in the cave that the giant squid was protecting)

And then she buries his body and leaves. And then I woke up. Weird dream, huh? I wonder what it meant? Probably that I shouldn’t eat so much calamari before going to bed. Anyway, now I’m going back to sleep. I’ll write again later.

From The Journal of Jacob Cayle aka Irwin Foster Dundee III

Day: After Yesterday but Before Tomorrow

Dear Diary,

We totally kicked that squid's ass! (Do squids have asses? I'll have to ask a Ranger and/or a Druid about that the next time such an opportunity presents itself).

First, the squid was all like "I'm totally going to kill you, grrr!" and Arcadius was all like "Oh no you didn't!" and then he flailed around for a while because he's not actually all that well trained for water combat. Not that any of us is, I mean seriously, you'd think at least one of us would have taken swimming lessons back when we were kids or something, but apparently we were all too busy training for skills we thought would be useful for lives as adventurers when we were kids. That must be why I'm only good at things like knowing answers to arcana and spellcraft related questions. Stupid wasted childhood!

Anyway, so we were all trying to fight the squid and generally sucking at it, on account that we were having a hard enough time with not drowing, in spite of having magic earrings specifically designed to keep us from doing so. I drew its attention by hitting it with an eldritch bolt and then failed to do anything for the next minute, dividing my time equally between being crushed by a tentacle and failing to swim.

So Ragnarr did the most good by dividing his time between keeping us healed and summoning things that could actually swim. I tried to do that too and finally managed to swim long enough to summon a Large Water Elemental, which worked with one of Ragnarr's sharks to actually fight the giant squid, but it was kicking both their asses (I'm not sure if Water Elementals have asses either, but that's another question I'll leave for the sages to answer).

So the battle was going sucky, and then Ragnarr had the bright idea to summon a BLOODY FIRE ELEMENTAL into the fight, right next to the squid. Do you know what happens when you summon a fire elemental into water? It blows all the hell up, that's what it does. I'm totally going to have to try that next time I'm underwater.

Anyway, that did some major damage to the squid, but unfortunately finished off the shark and the water elemental. So the squid was still coming at us, and I was getting crushed (yet again), so I decided to stop fighting against the tentacle and take advantage of the fact that while the squid was crushing me, it was also keeping me from needing to swim. So I took aim at it and blasted it in the face! And that was enough to finally finish the bastard off. Hmm, makes me hungry for calamari.

Anyway, now the squid is dead, and we found treasure (which is always nice) and apparently one third of a really powerful staff (which for some reason no one trusts me with, I don't know why. I bet if I studied it long enough I could figure out how to do some really awesome stuff with it, but that's a hypothesis for another day).

Anyway, now we need to figure out what to do next, but I'll let the Paladins figure that out.

A Bright Light (Chris)

I thought my life was at its end. I saw a bright then everything went quite and black. I figured Pelor himself had come for me. I was wrong. It was just a fire elemental that Ragnarr summoned. The summoned elemental apparently caused a large explosion and shockwave that almost killed me and is the reason why I can not hear anything right now. Ragnarr decided to summon it when it looked like all of us were going to die. We were fighting an octopus of sorts. This creature most of us grappled and surely one of us was headed for it’s month very soon. Pelor must really want us to succeed because with out his help I believe we all would not be here anymore. I well say this thou, Ragnarr needs to be careful or he will never be able to summon a creature again. All of his summons end up dead.

Anyways, It looks like we are going to be here for a while. It is going to be a while before we can take a boat back to the main land, which I am willing to wait. I have had enough with water combat to last me a life time.

Hopefully Ragnarr well heal my hearing tomorrow. I want to take a closer look at some of the items we found in the tower, but I am having a hard time doing it right now because all I hear is an annoying ringing in my ears.

Dream: Pelor Group

((Those of you on Team Pelor (Jacob, Chris, Ragnar, Arcadius, Fflam) will get this vision while waiting for the next boat.

Fflam, you get to see both visions. I'm thinking your manliness and self-sacrifice with fire has earned you a place in either camp for the moment.

You will have two days in town after the vision before the next boat leaves.))

Before you lies a ring of basalt stones, engraved with unfamiliar images of a god who's name has long been forgotten and overrun with vines and moss. In the center lies a stone sarcophagus, runes etched along both the inside and out in an elaborate pattern. A thick carpet of ferns blankets the ground, and while there are no trees to speak of there is a great deal of shorter foliage all around. ((History: 10 + Religion: 5 or Religion: 5 + History: 10 may give you more, email me for details if you meet these requirements))

Beyond the clearing you see mountains in all directions ((Geography or Maps: 5 will give you more here, let me know)) and along a passageway through the mountains there are two giant statues standing guard, each facing the other across the only evident path into the clearing. They are huge guardians, monuments of a cat-like creature with large wings, standing eternal watch.

There is a deathly peaceful feel to this place, as if it has not seen a disturbance in hundreds or even thousands of years. Not a single animal moves, no birds sing, no insects so much as click or cry out. There is no breeze, no movement, and all is perfectly still.

A moment later, suddenly, there is movement. The rustle of leaves as something moves, and in the silence the sound echoes for quite some distance.

An elven man stumbles into the ring of stones. His skin is scarred with sigils that were cut into his skin long ago, twisted images that look vaguely like the runes and glyphs common to various forms of magic, but twisted and misshapen. Not just from the inexpert and awkward hand that must have cut them, but as if the author were deliberately trying to distort their purpose. He wears clothes that look as if they must once have been made of the highest quality silk, now tattered and stained beyond all recognition. His hair is matted and caked with blood, and his eyes appear wide and terrified.

The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife. A basic-but-functional instrument that on close inspection appears to be shimmering and shifting as he holds it. Looking around anxiously, he makes a long cut along the ball of his thumb and chants several words, the magic binding to his blood and causing a shimmering haze to fall over the land, when the haze lifts he is gone. ((Spellcraft 10: this is a form of blood magic, very rare, but extremely potent)).

Time passes, and a woman appears in the clearing. She doesn't teleport in or appear to step in, her body doesn't seem to materialize. It is as if you blink and then she is standing there, radiating a sense of quiet calm. She is a Drow with an extremely noble bearing, porcelain skin that is pale even by the standards of the Drow, and jet black hair that drops below her waist. Where her eyes should be appear pools of glimmering darkness. She is clothed in loose-fitting traveling clothes, which hint at her lithe frame while not explicitly revealing it, a pair of leather boots, and a black silk hat. It all appears to be in perfect condition, as if she had just put it on minutes before and checked herself over in a mirror minutes before.

She speaks softly, her words lilting elegantly, "My beloved Dannar, did you really think that the stones here would protect you, or that I couldn't see through your blood magic?" Despite the elegance of her language, her tone has a flat affect to it, entirely devoid of warmth, anger, or any form of passion. Without speaking a word, she waves her hand and a shimmering curtain forms and parts to reveal the man standing perfectly still, his eyes wide, as if paralyzed by fright.

The barest note of sadness enters her voice, "I am sorry my beloved, but you know that I need the blood of someone of your caliber to finish the Work. Your efforts to retrieve the last piece and the sacrifice you are making here will not be forgotten."

She takes him by the hand and guides him to the sarcophagus, he comes along placidly, as if not in control of his own will. With each step, the vines and moss seem to recede, stones that were previously fallen over stand upright, and cracks in the sarcophagus seem to patch over. She releases his hand and, eyes still wide, he lays down in the sarcophagus. She kisses him on the lips, then draws a crystal from one of his pockets. It shimmers and changes colors continuously from the inside, as if its very material were being reworked and reformed continuously. "This will not be in vain," she whispers, taking a step back and the lid of the sarcophagus slides into place.

Lights flash all over the now reconstructed ruins, and energy seems to slowly be drawn out of the sarcophagus into the surrounding stones. She pulls a nearly completed staff from a pocket of air and fits the third and final piece--the crystal--into the crosspiece at top. Gliding gracefully, she sets the staff into a slot in one of the rocks, where it just catches the light, and begins to chant.

The vision fast forwards as the woman continues like this, casting the ritual spell, for three days and nights. At the end of this time, the energy slows to a trickle and then, finally, stops. She stands, picking up the staff and using it for support, obviously tired from her efforts, and walks toward the sarcophagus which opens to her approach. Inside there is the ruin of the man that had been here three days before: he is curled into a ball with his skin is shriveled and pallid, and his fingers appear to be gnawed off. The woman leans over and brushes her lips against his forehead, then closes his eyes with her hand. "I am sorry, we both know why this had to happen."

The woman--drained as she is--proceeds to dig a grave, marking it with a small stone and putting the body in it. She then removes a ring from her finger and puts it in the grave with the man before replacing the soil and walking off in the direction of the statues, carrying the now complete Staff of Alayna with her.

As she walks away you can see the stones return to their former places, the cracks reform, and the carpet of plants move back into place. In the end, the only evidence that the couple was ever here is a grave dug off to the side and marked with a piece of granite.

Aurelia's Grand Adventure! or: How she came to join the party! Pt 1

Hercules suggested I buy a journal when I went into town today. He said it would help me in ways I have yet to understand on such a long task. So I suppose I should start at the beginning.

A few nights ago, around Day 119, Diana came to me. Most would call it a vision, but it is more real than that. She appears by your fire and shares in your food. As a follower of Diana, you take from the land only that which you need. When you share what you have, no matter how little, it is a way to honor Diana. The one exception is if a vile creature is harassing a village, then you must protect the village first. Of course, there are non-violent ways of ridding a village of pests, but I am digressing.

I have faithfully followed Diana since I was 15. Now, almost 15 years later, I am one of the hunters she approaches with some of her more daunting tasks. She knows me to be reliable and good at what I do. Even I was flabbergasted by what she asked of me. She owed Hercules a favor. From what I gather, a large favor. He has interest in a group fighting evil from the sea. Diana has asked me to go and aid in the looming battle.

And so it was, earlier today I set forth from the mountains outside Turino. Lucrezia and I entered the town. I had to get special permission for Lucrezia to accompany me to the Druid Grove. I also had to leash and muzzle her when I went into the shops to acquire ink and a journal. Poor Lucrezia. She is not used to being leashed and muzzled, she usually waits for me outside the town. My only other option was to leave her behind. She is my faithful companion and also beloved of Diana. Where I go, she goes.

Diana had arranged with the Druids to send me to Izmir through some sort of magic I have not seen before. They opened a door in a tree, we walked through, and were in Izmir's Druid Grove. The Druids in Izmir are not followers of Diana, but all the Druids I have met have deep respect for any Deity of the Wild. Oddly enough, I have found out that in a way, that includes Bacchus, since his followers include Druids with amazing abilities to grow various plants.

The Druids directed us to an inn where Lucrezia would at least be welcome to stay in my room. I left her there, unmuzzled and unleashed, while I went and gathered some supplies. I had brought most of my own supplies, including my bow and armour, but required things like trail rations, et cetera. Not knowing the area in which I am about to travel, I am not sure what sort of hunting and gathering there will be to sustain me and Lucrezia.

From what Hercules has told me so far, his disciple in the group is one called Alcander, who very much resembles Hercules. Interest in the group is also given by Pelor, the Sun God. As long as Pelor does not spout poetry like Apollo, sweet Diana's brother, I believe I will get along with his followers at least enough to fight along side them.

I must turn in now. Lucrezia and I have an early start in the morning. We have a long distance to travel and a vague destination. Hercules has promised to let us know when we are there. He said he may not know it until he sees it. This should be an interesting journey.

Aurelia: Day 155

We opened the cabinet with the rune on it. It seems to be a meat locker with cuts of cattle in it. Most likely food for the creatures we have found.

Then, with nowhere else to go, we went down the grate. Jacob floated down and determined there to be water around 120 feet down. He kindly aided us all down, since we did not have rope to get there. Once we were in the water, we found a large sea creature. It had 30 feet of tentacles and was as wide as the opening below.

After a long and arduous battle, in which we almost lost Chris and Grungar, we finally defeated it. Jacob fought impressively and the Cleric called forth a fire elemental, which did an amazing amount of damage both to the creature and to us, but at least it gave us the edge we needed to defeat it. I do not like this fighting underwater. I am forced to use a spear, which Chris kindly lent me. I also am not fond of having anything other than firm ground beneath my feet.

We came upon an obsidian portal. Having no key with which to open it, we allowed Grungar to smash it. That is when the Keep literally began to fall down around our ears. In a blur of motion, we made it up to the dumb waiter and out of the Keep. We were able to make it clear of the Keep before it completely collapsed. Now we are back in the village for some much needed rest. Lucrezia definitely enjoyed her time outside while we were in the Keep. I hope she was not too worried for me.

Hercules, I must honestly say you have sent me to join some inspiring companions, even if they are men.

Diana, when I next get the chance to hunt, I shall make sure to offer some of the game to the fire to thank you for your patronage.

Journal of Arcadius - Day 157

We reported our news to our Sea Elf guide, who was indeed pleased, and returned the earrings of water-breathing. One, the one we had found, we were allowed to keep. It will likely be useful.

We now await a ship to take us across the waters to the town of the Alfar. I have been practicing swimming, as this seems to be a most useful skill given the foes we fight. The others have whiled away the past two days in various manners. We have divided the gold and platinum, and have promised Grungar some beets when we are next in a place where they may be found.

Ragnarr is consumed by guilt over the creatures he summoned and especially the Fire Elemental. Though I think he did rightly, I know that these matters are complex, and offered to help him perform proper ceremonies for atonement. He rejected this, and seems to prefer to spend much time in private meditation. There are times when he baffles me. For rituals and forms are of great use in guiding our thoughts, words, and deeds in the direction of what is right, and of avoiding that which is perilous and unwise.

Moreover, Pelor is most forgiving and merciful. Ragnarr summoned servants of our lord in order to fight our lord's enemies, indeed the enemies of the very world. The Fire Elemental itself was on our plane only briefly, but in that time it helped defeat a vile foe associated with a corrupted form of the very element opposed to fire. Its sacrifice was one all who think rightly should be willing to make, when the time comes. Still - there is the matter of whether it had a choice at all. Lord Pelor knows the truth, and will act accordingly.

In the meantime, I think I must relax and clear my mind.

The times to come may be perilous, but for now, we have peace. I have purchased another bottle of the refreshing liquor Akavit, and invited the others to join me.

*A*

Journal of Arcadius - Day 155

Victory at a Price

After futile efforts to explore the remainder of the keep, we realized there was only one way left to go... down, into the depths of dark well of water. Whatever was down there, we were in no shape to fight it, being short of both spells and health. We decided, despite the risks, to rest for the night at the keep.

There was also the matter of the abominations, the pseudonatural creatures summoned by the evil ones, for the purpose of sacrifice it seemed. I deemed that such sacrifices must not be allowed to continue, for whatever they were to achieve, it was an evil to the world. Moreover, these things belonged not in the world at all, and would be best sent back to their own vile plane. The others seemed less clear on this matter, but nonetheless I spent a part of the night dispatching the pseudonatural abominations.

Our night was otherwise uneventful.

In the morning, we investigated the depths. First, Jacob flew down with a set of ropes attached. Alas! The ropes did not hold and one of them fell into the waters below, sank, and was lost. In any case, it proved that the surface of the water was too far down to reach with such ropes as we had.

Thus, Jacob flew, carrying us down one by one. I was first, and illuminated by the light of Lord Pelor, saw something vast, dark, and moving in the water. The others followed and we prepared for battle.

Swimming down into the water, we encountered a thing like a gigantic squid, with dark choking tentacles. It was evil, and seemingly of malevolent intelligence. It was a fierce battle, with many of us caught, freeing ourselves, and then caught again. Jacob and Chris did much harm to it, while we armed with weapons helped as we could.

However, the battle seemed to go against us.

Most of us were gravely hurt, Chris was running low on powerful spells, while the thing fought on. At last, in a bold and desperate move, Ragnarr called upon Pelor and summoned a fire elemental... yes, a fire elemental, there in the watery depths! He summoned it forth near to the thing, and as sheltered by its bulk from the rest of us as could be devised.

It was devastating.

The unfortunate fire elemental, may Pelor have mercy upon it and honor for it, came apart in a spectacular explosion, the shockwaves of which ripped both through the squid thing and through us. Its vast noisome body absorbed most of the blast, but we suffered as well. Chris was knocked unconscious, and Grungar was gravely wounded, only to be brought to the very door of death by an attack of the creature moments later.

The rest of us fought on, striking as we could, each in our way. The thing, in its pain and wrath, seized Jacob and dragged him downward. However, this proved to be a mistake, for he with desperate fury launched one of his eldritch blasts straight into its body, slaying it at last. Truly, Jacob showed glorious courage in that moment!

We then explored. There were several passages leading out from the lair of the thing, one of which proved to have much treasure. More importantly, directly below the thing was a vast black mirror-gate, of the kind we have seen elsewhere. We considered passing through it to strike foes on the other side, but realized we lacked the needed key. Unable to use the gate, we knew we must smash it, and THAT was a job for Grungar.

He did so with enthusiasm.

As the gate cracked and was destroyed, shockwaves of instability flashed out from it. We sensed the keep beginning to shake and crumble around us. Wasting no time, we swam upwards, and were transported out of the water one by one by Jacob. From there, we made use of a mobile platform in the complex, intended for meats for the pseudonatural beasts, as a means to lift ourselves to the surface. We escaped moments before the entire coral keep crumbled into debris.

Praise to Lord Pelor, and to the gods!

Let the dark ones know, let those who would deal and treat with the horrors from outside know, that there are those who will resist, who will fight them! Though the war be long and this be but one battle, this battle at least is won.

*A*