Journal of Arcadius - Day 125 - 2

(hastily written scrawls)

We have learned much, but we have lost the initiative. Our attempts to continue downward and under or around the prepared defenses of the Drow appear to have hit their limits.

Walter-Tupper continues to do his job poorly and with increased haphazard recklessness. He has been acting so strangely I fear he is losing his mind again. In a search, a loose, man-sized floor tile was found. Walter-Tupper's idea of checking it for traps proved to be prying it up with a ten-foot pole and thus exposing himself and Oda to poisonous gas!

Once the gas dissipated, the tile proved to cover a tunnel down. This Jacob offered to investigate, which he did by flying down. Alas, some sort of anti-magic field was in place in the tunnel and he fell far enough to sustain some minor injuries! At the bottom of the tunnel was a curious separate complex of rooms, with its own kitchen and larder, library, and what proved to be a sealed laboratory.

THERE we found the eldest lady of this Drow house. She is very noble in her way, but alas mad. With some conversation and discussion we have found that she, like the two sisters on the far northern coast, has been in contact with horrific beings or powers from the Far Realms and seems to have been driven mad by the experience. However, she is very learned and powerful.

I bid my farewell to her almost immediately, but many of the party did not, and they remain trapped in the room with her by a gigantic Pseudonatural Dire Tiger that appears to also live down here. I have taken Miranda aside and discussed the situation with her, pointing out how clearly this fits into the greater pattern of spreading evil.

***

Others have been filtering out of the room. It appears, if I understand correctly, that it is merely a matter of asking gravely and politely to be allowed to leave. Despite this, they are having problems. Why do these Northerners find basic courtesy so difficult? Meanwhile, Walter-Tupper appears to be gibbering to himself in some mixture of fear and madness. It appears earlier I was correct about his mind. Perhaps he is already in some subtle way in the grip of the madness-inducing beings from the Far Realms. We must watch him.

***

Good news and bad news. Jacob has somehow managed to convince the lady to summon Fflam from his prison. However, this is apparently for the purpose of feeding his brain to an Ilithid. I was alerted to these events when informed that several party members were talking up the deliciousness of Fflam's brain, in Fflam's presence. It is apparently some complicated plot to free him. Perhaps the grip of madness is spreading? In the meantime, I will busy myself with some writing on other subjects of import.

***

By the Sevenfold Spears of Ar-Shahmash! Fflam has apparently accepted some drink from the lady that is meant to "season" his brain to make it tastier to Ilithids. May the gods protect us! Apparently, his brain was insufficiently appetizing before. One wonders why. Certainly, it was already well cooked. Perhaps Ilithids prefer brain tartar? Ah, and I have forgotten to mention that previously, Jacob had taken him on some sort of journey back and forth using his planar shifting power, which continues to fail to work according to plan.

So here we are. Hours lost. Some party members trapped. Fflam unconscious with something no doubt very bad coursing through his brain. The Drow no doubt well prepared and waiting to strike us down.

How we shall accomplish our mission now, I don't know. I do know that I must see this through. I have given my word. I believe we must succeed or spend our lives in the effort. If the others lack this resolve, and I fear they do, then at least I will stand and die covering their retreat.

May Lord Pelor protect us.
May the gods have mercy on us for our folly.
May we yet have victory.

*A*

The Mute: Later Day 125

Lessons Learned:

• Miranda is something called a Druid, from a place called Ismere.
• Druids can grow trees underground.
• Druids can slow down poisons.
• Drow have many poisons.
• This group also contains a dwarf named Flam.
• Dwarves of this region are highly flamable.
• Jacob has a power which allows him to fly.
• It is not very reliable.
• Drow keep their elders locked in the basement.
• These elders have excellent planar libraries.
• They also have pseudo natural pets.
• Pseudonatural cats like to be scratched behind their ears.
• Drow elders also keep Beholders and Illithids, to "improve" them
• These efforts happen in at least two places: here and Ismere.
• Dwarf brains taste delicious, if properly seasoned.
• Proper preparation involves making them quite spicy.
• Drow elders are much nicer than other drow.
• Pseudonatural cats unexpectedly fade out. (Could be problematic re: commercial venture)

Questions for Further Study:

• What kind of effect does the poison in Tupper have?
• Is the flamability of dwarves related to their rumored alcohol consumption?
• Is it possible to judge the depth of a hole by the screaming of one falling down it?
• Would the sale of pseudo-natural pets be a profitable business venture?
• How would a Beholder be improved, if not by killing them?
• Where is Ismere?
• What are the ingredients to brain seasoning?
• Does the drow elder have any good travel stories which might be useful?

Sztu's Journal

We lost Alcander. He was a bit of a jerk, but at least he died gloriously in battle!

I should write a poem or a song to honor him when we get out of this Drow establishment.

The new fellow is odd. Mute. We have no name for him.

A loss of a warror and rage that is building within

We lost Alcander today. He died like all warriors want to die, in battle. I was not able to witness his end because I fell unconscious during battle. These Drow due not fight with honor, they use tricks to try and defeat their enemies and then run when they lose the upper hand. They remind me of ninja’s from my land. They too use tricks to get upper hands in battle, but tricks can only last so long.

(Later that day: )
I feel rage building in me. I keep falling for these tricks these Drow using. I find myself taking so much damage that I am becoming a burden on the group. I am dishonoring my clan and must not allow this to continue. It is time to not hold anything back and reclaim my honor.

The Mute: Day 125 (To be composed in his journal once he finds it)

Lessons Learned:

• Drow have a poor reputation, even among other denizens of the Underdark.
• Drow respond poorly to written questionaires.
• Drow will not continue in a fight if they lose their weapon.
• Drow can create magical darkness.
• Drow have a smell similar to surface elves, but with an adamantine tinge.
• These particular Drow live in a large manor of some sort.
• There are many secret doors around it.
• Fleeing Drow are inclined to use secret doors.
• These doors are not terribly well hidden if you can follow a trail to it.
• Drow respond poorly to unexpected visitors.
• Six Drow is too many.
• Drow manors have many shadows.
• Drow possess a poison that renders one unconscious
• Drow have terribly uncomfortable guest quarters.
• Drow are not adept at keeping track of the luggage of guests.
• Drow feed guests shockingly poor quality food.
• Guests in Drow manors seem inclined to travel in packs.
• Guests also seem inclined to kill their hosts.

Questions for Further Study:

• Is the Drow reputation deserved?
• The Drow inclination to flee amid darkness seems similar to the octopus. Could the two species be related?
• How many secret doors are there, and where do they go?
• Could the Drows lack of hospitality be related to their poor reputation?
• Is the guests inclination to kill their hosts related to this poor hospitality?
• How well can our hosts fight?
• How well can the guests fight?
• Where did the Drow place my luggage?

Journal of Arcadius - Day 125

(hastily written scrawl)

We have made many mistakes! Alcander is dead! He fought with his usual reckless, almost mad courage. His death was not it should have been... stabbed in the back by a cowardly foe we have yet to catch. At least we've slain their chief wizard. I hope that is their chief wizard. Farewell Alcander. May you take your place of honor beside Heracles.

Fflam is gone. The enemy drow had a teleportation amulet much like that of lady Gozen. We tried to use it, but had difficulties. We teleported into a room with what may have been the ruling lady of this evil house. Somehow when we escaped, we lost Fflam. We returned but both were gone. He has almost certainly been captured. I pray he doesn't become a spider again.

And... what is wrong with Walter-Tupper? He is refusing to do the basic tasks for which he was sent to us. Cowardice seems to have gripped his soul. Surely Heracles can free him from the grip of fear! Perhaps the gods will show kindness and send Alcander to him in visions, to show him the path to honor and courage.

Praise be to the gods! We have freed two potential allies. One, some strange and apparently mute man, who possesses far more power than meets the eye. He teleported out of his own cell once we opened the shutter. He has donned drow weapons and armor to help us as well. The other freed prisoner is a druid from Izmir of all places. She seems to have been captured just before the curse descended on the sacred grove at the center of that city. She was most upset to hear of recent developments, and agreed to join us.

May we be worthy of the aid of the gods!
I Praise thee o' Lord Pelor.
From darkness, light.
From evil, redemption.
From fear, new hope.

*A*

Journal of Arcadius - Day 124

Of Trials and Preparation

Though the Duergar seem a properly law-abiding people, the application of their laws is so strict that I spent my time in the city in constant apprehension that one of my companions would do something rash.

As noted in my last missive, Jacob proceeded to do exactly that.

After a grim day guarding the book on Demonology and watching for treachery from Jacob - the tension relieved only by pleasant and instructive prayers for the spiritual edification of Walter-Tupper - we were at last ready to set out.

A few hours out from the city, we found a place to exit from the main passage and deal with the book. We determined that it might have other wards, but was probably not waterproof. After some discussion, Fflam offered to hurl holy water at it. He has been developing his skills in handling thrown weapons - a good thing, given the formidable array of Alchemists Fire he carries at all times. With aplomb he tossed a vial on the vile book and it soon burst forth in evil energy. Something, some power, drew the book into the ground, and almost certainly back to its home plane.

Jacob complained, but wisely chose not to intervene.

We shall have to watch him. He may yet betray us. Why would anyone of good intent want to buy a magic-radiating book on demonology from someone in a city in the Underdark speaking Demonic. For that matter, why does JACOB speak Demonic? Thus far however, he continues to fail to radiate evil.

The rest of our trip was, relatively speaking, uneventful.

We came to the laboratory of the house of Gozen, and here we are now, preparing weapons and spells for our impending assault on the evil drow. May the gods give us strength and guide our hands. May the vile followers of Lolth be cast down! O' Lord Pelor, may your light shine forth in these places of darkness!

*A*

Alcander: Day AmDead

Well, this is unexpected.

I had expected things to be, I don't know, more heroic seeming. Face some savage foe in honorable combat and have my head cleaved open by a mighty blow, my lion skin split in half and my club shattered assunder. Not stabbed through the heart by some foe so dishonorable as to not even bother to present his face upon killing me.

It's not like I didn't give him fair warning. I let all the Drow know that they should come and face me. Would it have been that hard for them to come face me?

But no. The dishonorable bastards snuck around, refused to face me honorably, and that was that.

But damn it, I had thought that Heracles would at least be happy to see me. But no! He laughed at me, as though my actions were not appreciated, as though he did not see the glory that I had brought to his name, but only laughed at my trials. Then he savaged a naked woman, downed a barrel of ale, and told me that I had missed the point.

Missed the point! By the gods, I followed his teachings! Honor, glory, what better things are there? Wine and women would have only been a distraction.

I tried to tell him so, to remind him of his own teachings. He only let me speak for ten minutes, hardly enough time for a proper discourse, then told me that if I felt that way, he'd send me to a cell to sit and write in this bloody journal until I figured it out.

A journal! In the name of Heracles, I'm dead. I thought I was done with journals.

Outside I can hear the sounds of their revelry. Even in the heavens there is this wretched trechery.

By the gods, why couldn't I have recieved a calling from Bacchus, instead?

I can only hope they give me something to kill, soon. Otherwise I may go mad.

I'd almost rather deal with Tupper.

Journal of Arcadius - Day 122

Being at our wits end as to what to do next, we decided to call upon an unusual source of support and information - the Drow - or rather, the lady Alis Gozen, who had once offered us favor in return for dealing with some evil Drow foes of hers.

This offer we now took.

Using the magic porting device provided by her, we traveled to a city under the control of her and other friendly allied houses. A strange purple glow, like faerie fire, suffused everything. She, the lady was as dignified as ever. Truly a worthy example of leadership. From her we learned the specifics of our mission - the destruction of a Drow noble house in the service of the utterly evil goddess Lolth. She also assigned one of her family to guide us through the Underdark to the point where we would again use magic to attack the evil ones.

Our journey through the Underdark was gloomy but largely uneventful until a time while camped that we were ambushed by hideous hook-handed monsters of the deep caverns. We fought relatively well, and Fflam demonstrated a newfound prowess with his seemingly favored weapon of Alchemists Fire.

Somewhat later, we came to a great underground lake. We made the trip across on a Duergar boat powered by magic. Truly an impressive thing! Walter-Tupper spent much of the trip sketching what was meant to be either the lake, the boat, both, or the contents of his stomach - I could not tell which.

On the other side of the lake was a Duergar city - a place of strict laws it seems. I feel comfortable in such an environment, but worry about some of the others. In fact, nearly all of us have spent our time here so far worrying about Alcander and what he might do. Many of the Duergar are detectable as evil, and we've been concerned that he try to kill them at random. Meanwhile, Fflam has kept heavily concealed as it seems his folk and the Duergar harbor implacable hatred for one another.

However, rather than cause trouble and thereby getting us all killed, Alcander has stayed in his room, except to, quite rightly and wisely, pray for Walter-Tupper to answer the call of Heracles. As well he ought. In fact, I feel duty-bound to assist him so that Walter-Tupper may never feel a lack of concern for the well-being of his soul! We shall keep vigil so that he never feels left out or neglected by the benevolence of the gods.

Meanwhile, it was not Alcander, but Jacob who has done something worrying. The fool, or villain - time shall reveal - wandered around Duergar city until somehow he managed to find a human or at least humanish being who spoke, of all languages, DEMONIC. He then thought it fitting to purchase a magic-radiating book on Demonology from this individual. He then, quite blithely, walked into the common room of our inn radiating powerful magic and evil. When asked about it, he proceeded to lie, until called out for his lies.

We were not pleased.

I have this strange dread, though I'm not certain why, that this is Hrogar all over again. What could be the connection between the two? How mysterious! We seized the book from him, but otherwise tabled action until we are out of city. Once safely outside the reach of Duergar law, we will attempt to destroy this book, and will deal with Jacob. We hope he will be reasonable. If not, well, perhaps we can purge his soul of evil before sending him to the hereafter.

*A*

Warrior Path

I have come to revelation about Alcander. For all of his skills at fighting and surviving battles he is no better then a mindless barbarian. He has shown several times that he cares more about destroying evil then the well being of his commands or even himself.

Do not get me wrong the world and armies need fighters like him, but a strong willed leaders is needed to keep them in place, but for our small group I think he might end up being the main cause of our deaths.

The thing that frightens me the most is the longer I am around him the more I am acting like him. Charging blindly, not using anything I was taught. My master would be disappointed that I am not using my head. He told me several times that a warrior that does not use his wits is a warrior that does not use his greatest weapon. Anyone can swing a sword but people that use tactics win the wars.

I need to meditate long and hard and find my way back to true warrior path.

Oda

Journal of Fflam

Day... 125 or so?

Day 1 of my imprisonment, at least... although I doubt there will be many, one way or another.

It feels it has been a long time since I was locked in a cell. But in truth, I suppose that night was not all that long ago...

I suppose I should set down the reason that I am here in the first place. My entire life, I grew up being taught to hate humans. My father never forgave them for his injuries, and was bitter that their settlement near our hold was allowed to stay there.

A human trader had come to our hold, Gantrickthale, to conduct business, to purchase some of my ores for a substantial sum, about the same time I was preparing to leave to train to be a holy warrior of Moradin in the Dwarf city of Ozu-Zarkh. I was spending what was to be my last night with my friends in the hold's only tavern, and the tradesman was there as well, celebrating the closing of a deal. For whatever reason, he had brought his daughter along, a young woman without any sort of manners. She seemed to think this bar full of dwarves was a good place to throw around jokes about being short! No doubt she'd been collecting them, for though she was taller than any dwarf, she was quite small for a human.

After a time, I'd had enough of this, and decided to scare some sense into her. I forget the details, but I made some threatening gesture with my axe, without intending to harm her, but before I knew it, she had disarmed me and knocked me to the ground! She moved so quickly that I barely knew what had happened. At that point, the ale I'd had took over and we fought. When the fight was broken up, her father was there, swearing that the deal he'd made earlier was off. I was hauled off to a cell while the hold's elders (one of whom is my father's mother) undertook an inquiry.

The hold's elders soon found out that this whelp had practically been inciting a fight, and when the girl's father heard of this, he decided to take the opportunity to discipline his daughter. He said he'd reinstate the purchase, provided Gantrickthale allowed his daughter to stay there, in the hopes she'd learn to be more tolerant. My grandmother apparently thought this a wonderful idea, and decided to return the sentiment. She sent me to train at a human city, Point of Origin, rather than Ozu-Zarkh. She will send for me to return home when she feels I've learned my lesson... whatever that turns out to be. I've been sending her updates of what we have done, but not so regularly as of late. I hope I'll have a chance to send her more...

Currently, the lesson I've learned is don't get caught alone with a powerful Drow priestess intent on turning you into a spider.

Prayer for the Damned

(This isn't so much in a journal as getting prayed. loudly, ever night. For those of you who are also praying for Tupper, you've probably learned this, too.)

Oh, Heracles, here the prayer of your humble servant.
Hear it on behalf of those you have called, who ignore your word.
Hear it on behalf of the godless, the lost, and the damned.
I pray not in my own name, but in the name of one who needs your light.
I beg for your intercession, in the name of Walter Tupper.
Help to bring him to your presence.
Let him find no sleep, until he sleeps in your glory.
Let him find no sustenance, until he eats of your righteousness.
Let no water quench his thirst, but that he drinks of your truth.
Aid me in bringing him to you, though it should cost his life and my own.
In your name,
Amen.

Journal of W. E. Tupper, Day 122

[A two-page spread is taken up with what looks like the aftermath of a particularly messy torture session with the letter O, whose armpit is now being molested by a hunchback Aztec temple.]


Day 122
The morning met us with horrible hook-handed creatures that clicked at us. This may not be a fair assessment of them, truth be told: they might be very dashing to other hook-handed creatures. Outside of a self-induced indentation on my forehead, no injuries of note.

We came across a huge underground lake, incredibly beautiful. Included a sketch of it to give you an idea of what it was like, spellbook: I spent most of the day drawing it while on the ferry boat.

The city on the other side is almost completely devoid of signs with Commonspeak, which I guess is to be expected in foreign realms. The inn we stayed at had a cog in the sign and served a slab-like dish that tasted like steak. Lestrum says it's commonly grown in these parts. While I'm sure that plenty of druids would (and likely do) cheer the idea of saving cows through farming, I am slightly less enthusiastic. Fortunately, I only have to eat here another day or so.

Of course, today was going far too peacefully to be a day in my life. So Jake went out and purchased a book on demon summoning, then brought it back to the inn hoping that the small army of paladins he travels with wouldn't notice or care that much. After we all knightslapped that idea down and chewed him out for Possession of Malicious Tome(s), he won't be doing something quite that stupid again anytime soon. (At least I hope so. Going to keep a serious watch on Jacob from here on in.) We eventually agreed to destroy the book once we were on the outskirts of town, in case its destruction led to the release of yet another horrifying evil upon the world.

I may make a point of not reading over my entries more than once, lest I be struck by how insane my life has become.

Alcander: Day 122

It is not uncommon that I am not impressed with the behavior of my companions. It is, usually, less common that I am completely appalled by it.

For instance why, in the name of Heracles and all other gods, would a man who claims to be good purchase an EVIL, MAGICAL book with instructions on the summoning of DEMONS.

I was already sitting in the inn with Flam. While not all men in this Durger city are evil, there are many, many of them. For the greater good, I must refrain from smiting any of them, so I stayed at the inn while the others wandered the city.

It does surprise me that none of my companions returned with any new equipment. These dwarves seem to make very high quality arms, and I would have thought that my companions, as reliant on their equipment rather than their manfullness as they are, would have gone in search of some. Instead, I'm not sure what they did.

Except for Jacob. He apparently set out to find the most evil thing he could possibly find. At least it cannot be said that he failed.

I will have to keep him in my sight the rest of the time we are in this city. I have promised not to hurt him while we're within these walls, but I have a longer memory than that. He had best be on his best behavior until we can destroy this damn book.

Also, I ought to remember to write my father regarding these Durger ships. They're not very fast, true, but a ship that moves by itself could be quite valuable. Especially if combined with Greek knowledge, which could surely make them faster.