Not much has happened since my last entry. We are in an elf town were no one has a concept of being young. This information in itself is odd, but there are even more strange things about this village. It seems something is killing and or stealing the live stock in the area. They claim to have not seen anything and they know little about it. The only thing they can tell us is it comes at night and in the fog. So I find myself sitting here keeping watchful eye out wounding if this creature or people will attack tonight.
As I sit here I debate what sort of people these elves are that are not willing to go and face the creature. In fact, how dare they call themselves elves if they are not willing to go out and drive away the fear which grips these lands and regain the safety which your homeland should entail. No elf I know acts like this. For there is a lot of pride in my race, which none of these people seem to have. Instead they act like scared children hiding away in their town at night hoping to be spared from an attack. Tomorrow we need to find out what is going for I would hate to believe that any real elves would be such cowards.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Tupper and Mona rough draft (to the tune of Brady Bunch)
Here's the story of a lovely lady
Who passed away millenia ago
Met a group of Paladins, asked for their aid
To escape her gaol cell.
Here's the story of a man named Tupper
Who was companion to the Paladins
He fell in love with the lovely ghost
And promised her his aid
Til the one day when the Paladins found the truth
And they knew that it was much more than a hunch
That Mona brought her fate upon herself
That's the way Tupper's heart took a knockout punch.
A knockout punch
That's the way Tupper's heart took a knockout punch.
Who passed away millenia ago
Met a group of Paladins, asked for their aid
To escape her gaol cell.
Here's the story of a man named Tupper
Who was companion to the Paladins
He fell in love with the lovely ghost
And promised her his aid
Til the one day when the Paladins found the truth
And they knew that it was much more than a hunch
That Mona brought her fate upon herself
That's the way Tupper's heart took a knockout punch.
A knockout punch
That's the way Tupper's heart took a knockout punch.
Journal of W.E. Tupper, Day 150
Day 150
The Thrums have changed.
The abandoned Thrumpton Alley Orphanage is now an extension of the Mill Street Bakery, the pickpockets are gone, and the Gollywomper Inn is… clean. Even the walls are clean, and not just a fresh coat of paint according to Todd. When he took over the business from his father, he hired a wizard to spell the stains off of everything, or so he claims. Fire-breathing dragons may have been involved. He says the prostitutes are gone as well, though there were a lot of 'maids' upstairs. Still, he seemed less dishonest than usual about it, and he's got to be better at the job than his old man.
Warpspanner's Science Emporium and Locksmith is still there. Looks like a new coat of paint on the sign, but that damn gnome was always good at illusions. There are no blacksmithies in the area, at all.
When I returned to the first blacksmith to ask him about it, I found his place closed for the day. So I went to the general goods store next door to ask about him and got a sack of flour in my face for the effort. As far as I can parse together, the owner of the general store was one of the fiercer of my legitimate competitors back in the old days. Somewhere in the mess of things at the end, he swore to me or a guard or his pet cat that he would make sure I never did business in this city ever again. Since I never tried to do business in this city again, there had been a significant build-up of rage at me. Then, having a lot more customers than before, he could afford to move his store out of the Scoops into a larger building; a place where I subsequently entered and was assaulted by baking goods. The priest said I was lucky it only broke my nose.
To top the day off, I found another note on my door when I got back to the inn. "Change is constant. - 4C." Will check for a fresh grappling hook in the morning.
The Thrums have changed.
The abandoned Thrumpton Alley Orphanage is now an extension of the Mill Street Bakery, the pickpockets are gone, and the Gollywomper Inn is… clean. Even the walls are clean, and not just a fresh coat of paint according to Todd. When he took over the business from his father, he hired a wizard to spell the stains off of everything, or so he claims. Fire-breathing dragons may have been involved. He says the prostitutes are gone as well, though there were a lot of 'maids' upstairs. Still, he seemed less dishonest than usual about it, and he's got to be better at the job than his old man.
Warpspanner's Science Emporium and Locksmith is still there. Looks like a new coat of paint on the sign, but that damn gnome was always good at illusions. There are no blacksmithies in the area, at all.
When I returned to the first blacksmith to ask him about it, I found his place closed for the day. So I went to the general goods store next door to ask about him and got a sack of flour in my face for the effort. As far as I can parse together, the owner of the general store was one of the fiercer of my legitimate competitors back in the old days. Somewhere in the mess of things at the end, he swore to me or a guard or his pet cat that he would make sure I never did business in this city ever again. Since I never tried to do business in this city again, there had been a significant build-up of rage at me. Then, having a lot more customers than before, he could afford to move his store out of the Scoops into a larger building; a place where I subsequently entered and was assaulted by baking goods. The priest said I was lucky it only broke my nose.
To top the day off, I found another note on my door when I got back to the inn. "Change is constant. - 4C." Will check for a fresh grappling hook in the morning.
Journal of Grungar the Masher, Day 149-150
Okay so today. Drood lady fling us into wintor! It is rilly cold! Every one has blankets and warm shirts. Stu looks like bunny. >:3
that is a bunny okay––––––––––^
We find town full of notorcs, but has no little notorcs.
I help friends! I look around town for little notorcs! But still no find annie.
Okay so today. We find big spooky place. It full of sqiggly walls. I smash a wall, and water come out! Crazy.
Then we mash two clickie monsters! They climb on sealings!!
Then then we find nest of little notorcs! But no one their.
Thenthenthen we find room with ghosty little notorcs in shiny roks! They not doing anything. Hope they safe. D:
OH MY DAN!!!!!! BIG SUPASNAKE JUST COME OUT OF LAKE AND MAKE CHOMPY AT US!!!
WE ALL WHACK IT, AN I MASH IT LAST HEAD IN GUD!!!!!!
I MASH IT SOGUD I GET MAGIC WOOD PLATE FOR ARM!!!!!
that is a bunny okay––––––––––^
We find town full of notorcs, but has no little notorcs.
I help friends! I look around town for little notorcs! But still no find annie.
Okay so today. We find big spooky place. It full of sqiggly walls. I smash a wall, and water come out! Crazy.
Then we mash two clickie monsters! They climb on sealings!!
Then then we find nest of little notorcs! But no one their.
Thenthenthen we find room with ghosty little notorcs in shiny roks! They not doing anything. Hope they safe. D:
OH MY DAN!!!!!! BIG SUPASNAKE JUST COME OUT OF LAKE AND MAKE CHOMPY AT US!!!
WE ALL WHACK IT, AN I MASH IT LAST HEAD IN GUD!!!!!!
I MASH IT SO
........................guud good
It is no clean so I no eat off it okay. :p
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Mute: Day 150
Lessons Learned Regarding the Frozen Northlands
- Northern Elves have undersized ears.
- They are unphased by long distance teleportation.
- The food is pleasantly salty.
- They have snow in all times of the year.
- They do not reproduce sexually.
- They do not enjoy themselves sexually, at least not with me.
- They are attacked by creatures from the mist.
- These creatures eat their delicious goats.
- They have ancient stone ruins up the hill.
Questiosn for Further Study
- Do Northern Elves divide like Jellies do?
- Could the dividing magic be harnassed to create a second version of an attractive elf woman, one that might not be inclined to dislike me?
- Could the magic that keeps them from bearing children be used to avoid the potential negative consequences of getting to know barmaids?
- Are the mist creatures more druids?
Journal of Arcadius - Day 149
The North
We were transported without incident to the far north - in particular the region of the world from which be believe Hrefna came. It seems not to be quite as bitter a place as the land with the ruined castle, which we briefly visited when fleeing the Drow, but still it is grim. There are trees upon the dark hillsides, but also a cold and bitter wind, and snow on the heights even now, in Summer.
Fortunately, we arrived near an Elven town. It is a fortified place with a palisade wall, guard towers, and a stout gate. The Elves here are very tall and thin. They generally resemble Hrefna, and have quite a different look from our companions Oda and the Mute. One curious thing we noted quickly was that they seem to have no children. More on that later.
At the gate, we were asked our business, and they seemed not at all disturbed or surprised to be told that we had arrived by magic from distant Izmir, nor that we were here to investigate the strange doings of these times. We were warned not to disturb anything in town, but we would not willingly do so in any case.
In town we found an inn with plenty of rooms, one for each of us, and soon were resting in comfort in the common room, eating roast goat and drinking both ale and a strange clear liquor called Akavit, the taste of which seems to derive from seeds or herbs. There was food of another kind, pickled fish, which I found disgusting. But, who can say what food is readily available in this harsh land? Perhaps it is an acquired taste.
We began to ask questions of the locals, and they were in general friendly, but had a strange, very strange perspective. It seems they not only have no children, but also have never heard of them. They know of baby animals, but they, the Elves (or Alfar as they call themselves) they imagine directly manifesting in the world from the dreams of a being, a sort of dead god, they call Ymir.
In the meanwhile, Jacob had much, too much, to drink, and began to make passes at one of the Elf women. The results were not positive. In the end, he fell face forward, asleep. Oda, the Mute, and myself hauled him to his room and threw a few blankets on him to keep warm. The Mute brought him some water, which he will most likely want in the morning.
We were told that a mysterious fog often creeps in at night, and when it does, livestock disappears. For this reason, the townspeople close the gates at night, and bring their livestock inside. They have never seen what is in that fog. Very disturbing.
However, the three of us were curious and decided to walk around town. It is bracingly cold at night. This is one of those times I truly miss the balmy evenings of my homeland, when the breeze blows through the palms with the scent of spices on the air. Ah well. In any case, we discussed what we'd discovered in our conversations, visited the wall, and took in the crisp night air. I returned to the Inn, while the Mute decided to stay, and apparently visit the guards at the top of one of the towers. Truly, there is no predicting what he might do.
So... here I am, sitting in the common room in front of the warm crackling fire, my feet propped up, sipping Akavit - the taste of which does grow on one - and writing in my journal. For the moment, all is well. I think I shall sleep well tonight.
*A*
We were transported without incident to the far north - in particular the region of the world from which be believe Hrefna came. It seems not to be quite as bitter a place as the land with the ruined castle, which we briefly visited when fleeing the Drow, but still it is grim. There are trees upon the dark hillsides, but also a cold and bitter wind, and snow on the heights even now, in Summer.
Fortunately, we arrived near an Elven town. It is a fortified place with a palisade wall, guard towers, and a stout gate. The Elves here are very tall and thin. They generally resemble Hrefna, and have quite a different look from our companions Oda and the Mute. One curious thing we noted quickly was that they seem to have no children. More on that later.
At the gate, we were asked our business, and they seemed not at all disturbed or surprised to be told that we had arrived by magic from distant Izmir, nor that we were here to investigate the strange doings of these times. We were warned not to disturb anything in town, but we would not willingly do so in any case.
In town we found an inn with plenty of rooms, one for each of us, and soon were resting in comfort in the common room, eating roast goat and drinking both ale and a strange clear liquor called Akavit, the taste of which seems to derive from seeds or herbs. There was food of another kind, pickled fish, which I found disgusting. But, who can say what food is readily available in this harsh land? Perhaps it is an acquired taste.
We began to ask questions of the locals, and they were in general friendly, but had a strange, very strange perspective. It seems they not only have no children, but also have never heard of them. They know of baby animals, but they, the Elves (or Alfar as they call themselves) they imagine directly manifesting in the world from the dreams of a being, a sort of dead god, they call Ymir.
In the meanwhile, Jacob had much, too much, to drink, and began to make passes at one of the Elf women. The results were not positive. In the end, he fell face forward, asleep. Oda, the Mute, and myself hauled him to his room and threw a few blankets on him to keep warm. The Mute brought him some water, which he will most likely want in the morning.
We were told that a mysterious fog often creeps in at night, and when it does, livestock disappears. For this reason, the townspeople close the gates at night, and bring their livestock inside. They have never seen what is in that fog. Very disturbing.
However, the three of us were curious and decided to walk around town. It is bracingly cold at night. This is one of those times I truly miss the balmy evenings of my homeland, when the breeze blows through the palms with the scent of spices on the air. Ah well. In any case, we discussed what we'd discovered in our conversations, visited the wall, and took in the crisp night air. I returned to the Inn, while the Mute decided to stay, and apparently visit the guards at the top of one of the towers. Truly, there is no predicting what he might do.
So... here I am, sitting in the common room in front of the warm crackling fire, my feet propped up, sipping Akavit - the taste of which does grow on one - and writing in my journal. For the moment, all is well. I think I shall sleep well tonight.
*A*
Monday, August 24, 2009
Journal of Arcadius - Day 148
A departure and an arrival.
With the funds distributed from our sale of the Ring of Evasion, we found ourselves newly well funded. Given the many evil foes we face, I felt it advisable to call upon the aid of Lord Pelor to increase the striking power of my sword against them. This would require help from the temple of Pelor in Point of Origin, as well as the powerful enchanter wizard here in Izmir. It would also require time, but thankfully we, for a bit, had that.
While we waited, two interesting events occurred.
First, while staying at the Dolphin, we found out there was a new entertainer: a half-orc who mashed beets (a strange purple-red root of these northern lands) into different shapes with a hammer.
At first, I thought it was some strange custom of Izmir I hadn't heard of before.
When we watched the show, however, I had to admit it was impressive. How he managed it, I'm still not sure, but with fists and a warhammer he molded piles of this root into amazing sculptures. I presumed he must be an artistic genius, and decided it was worth talking to him.
Most of the rest of our group did so as well. As it turned out, the half-orc, whose name is, appropriately, Grungar the Masher, doesn't sound like the artistic sort at all. Yet, there his works were. Strange. We should not underestimate him.
Grungar the Masher explained that he was looking for "friends of Dan". It appears my spoken common is not as good as I thought. I could not understand him, though some of the others took it to mean "Paladin". Sometimes the more obscure aspects of this uncouth language make no sense to me. Was this a Northern joke of some sort? Ah well.
In any case, we established that he was seeking to help fight the evil that plagues the world. He had certainly come to the right group of people, given all we've faced. But was this artist a fighter? Could we trust him? A few months ago I would not have imagined taking a complete stranger into our party so casually, but after all we've been through, it seems less strange. Besides, he SEEMED trustworthy, and wanted to join us on our noble quest.
We arranged for him to come spar with us, and even purchased permits from the town.
As it turned out the next day, he is a very good fighter. He was not willing to discuss HOW he had gotten so good for quite a while, but finally admitted he had been a brutal thug, and it appeared is now trying to make amends.
Meanwhile, something strange had happened...
Oda and the Mute had decided to spar as well. We didn't watch their fight, but when we looked over, Oda was completely disarmed, with his swords thrown far, and he himself entangled in the Mute's spiked chain. Oda is our greatest warrior, in my opinion. I was stunned! I find myself wondering what truly are the extent of the Mute's mysterious powers.
Shortly thereafter Shaft received a dream regarding his homeland, and specifically about his city, called, if I understood correctly, Motauoon or Ditroit. The dream warned him of his father's death by some murder or curse... and it seems his father was a king! The King of Motauoon! It seems there is a war or some sort of struggle going on. So, alas, Shaft had to return in haste to his homeland to put things to right!
He left almost immediately, though we did give him the evil Drow Adamantine box to take back to Point of Origin on his way.
So, we've lost one, but gained another.
Praise be! We had another dream from Lord Pelor! A vision of knowledge and the world, showing the thirteen places of power where the influence of the evil is centered. One is the sunken city. Of the others, some we recognized, most not. Still, what we have seen will be of great use to us, and now we have an idea of how to proceed!
Praise to Pelor!
Rightly, your light guides us!
For it is truth.
A visit to the Druid's Grove (the permits for which cost us an exorbitant sum from the Seneschal), revealed that Miranda was alive and well, and putting things back in order. She also revealed she could arrange the magic to send us to one of the places of power, in the far north.
We agreed
My sword is ready, with a wizard's magic and the blessing of Pelor upon it.
Soon we shall set forth.
May Pelor guide us!
May the gods give us strength!
*A*
With the funds distributed from our sale of the Ring of Evasion, we found ourselves newly well funded. Given the many evil foes we face, I felt it advisable to call upon the aid of Lord Pelor to increase the striking power of my sword against them. This would require help from the temple of Pelor in Point of Origin, as well as the powerful enchanter wizard here in Izmir. It would also require time, but thankfully we, for a bit, had that.
While we waited, two interesting events occurred.
First, while staying at the Dolphin, we found out there was a new entertainer: a half-orc who mashed beets (a strange purple-red root of these northern lands) into different shapes with a hammer.
At first, I thought it was some strange custom of Izmir I hadn't heard of before.
When we watched the show, however, I had to admit it was impressive. How he managed it, I'm still not sure, but with fists and a warhammer he molded piles of this root into amazing sculptures. I presumed he must be an artistic genius, and decided it was worth talking to him.
Most of the rest of our group did so as well. As it turned out, the half-orc, whose name is, appropriately, Grungar the Masher, doesn't sound like the artistic sort at all. Yet, there his works were. Strange. We should not underestimate him.
Grungar the Masher explained that he was looking for "friends of Dan". It appears my spoken common is not as good as I thought. I could not understand him, though some of the others took it to mean "Paladin". Sometimes the more obscure aspects of this uncouth language make no sense to me. Was this a Northern joke of some sort? Ah well.
In any case, we established that he was seeking to help fight the evil that plagues the world. He had certainly come to the right group of people, given all we've faced. But was this artist a fighter? Could we trust him? A few months ago I would not have imagined taking a complete stranger into our party so casually, but after all we've been through, it seems less strange. Besides, he SEEMED trustworthy, and wanted to join us on our noble quest.
We arranged for him to come spar with us, and even purchased permits from the town.
As it turned out the next day, he is a very good fighter. He was not willing to discuss HOW he had gotten so good for quite a while, but finally admitted he had been a brutal thug, and it appeared is now trying to make amends.
Meanwhile, something strange had happened...
Oda and the Mute had decided to spar as well. We didn't watch their fight, but when we looked over, Oda was completely disarmed, with his swords thrown far, and he himself entangled in the Mute's spiked chain. Oda is our greatest warrior, in my opinion. I was stunned! I find myself wondering what truly are the extent of the Mute's mysterious powers.
Shortly thereafter Shaft received a dream regarding his homeland, and specifically about his city, called, if I understood correctly, Motauoon or Ditroit. The dream warned him of his father's death by some murder or curse... and it seems his father was a king! The King of Motauoon! It seems there is a war or some sort of struggle going on. So, alas, Shaft had to return in haste to his homeland to put things to right!
He left almost immediately, though we did give him the evil Drow Adamantine box to take back to Point of Origin on his way.
So, we've lost one, but gained another.
Praise be! We had another dream from Lord Pelor! A vision of knowledge and the world, showing the thirteen places of power where the influence of the evil is centered. One is the sunken city. Of the others, some we recognized, most not. Still, what we have seen will be of great use to us, and now we have an idea of how to proceed!
Praise to Pelor!
Rightly, your light guides us!
For it is truth.
A visit to the Druid's Grove (the permits for which cost us an exorbitant sum from the Seneschal), revealed that Miranda was alive and well, and putting things back in order. She also revealed she could arrange the magic to send us to one of the places of power, in the far north.
We agreed
My sword is ready, with a wizard's magic and the blessing of Pelor upon it.
Soon we shall set forth.
May Pelor guide us!
May the gods give us strength!
*A*
And we are off again. (Oda entree)
Meet an odd fellow today. A half orc named Grungar who apparently earn money by conducting a very odd show. Again I find myself wondering about the people of this land. They find such weird things amusing. O well I guess there are far worse things the common folk could be doing for entertainment. Back to this Grungar character, he has demonstrated he has skill for combated and is good about following orders. These two things could make him a valuable asset to the group. Not everyone needs to be tactically smart, as long as they are willing to follow orders and not do stupid things without first asking if it is ok. He seems to do this, so I have no issues with him staying.
I had a vision last night about locations which will be affected by the undersea which will lead to a final fight with the creatures from this land. It appears that several of us had the same vision. Jacob and Aracdius recognized two of the location; sadly they are many day travel. However we did final find Moranda who said she new of one of the locations and sent us to the location by means of magic. Shame I did not remember to ask her if there was any information she could give us about the land and the people. Again I find my self jumping feet first without thinking and preparing first. Anyways, will have to do the best I can with the little information I have. Let's hope we have better success this time.
I had a vision last night about locations which will be affected by the undersea which will lead to a final fight with the creatures from this land. It appears that several of us had the same vision. Jacob and Aracdius recognized two of the location; sadly they are many day travel. However we did final find Moranda who said she new of one of the locations and sent us to the location by means of magic. Shame I did not remember to ask her if there was any information she could give us about the land and the people. Again I find my self jumping feet first without thinking and preparing first. Anyways, will have to do the best I can with the little information I have. Let's hope we have better success this time.
The Mute: Day 149
Lessons Learned About Ismere
- Guards are shoddy and sleepy.
- Local druids produce civically unfriendly parks.
- To turn Orcs to good, they are imprisoned and beaten.
- A position called the Seneschal is the local face of beauracracy.
- The beauracracy functions nicely, even if the King does not.
- Local bribe rates are quite reasonable.
- Local gods also give gifts in exchange for bribes.
Lessons Learned About My Companions
- Oda is insufficiently practiced in the Martial Arts
- An Orc named Grungar wishes me to Eat At the River Dolphin, which I did.
- Many of my companions had more visions, which I was in, though I do not remember it.
- They have previously released a Djinn.
Questions for Further Study
- Are all the Exiles so poor at Martial Arts, or just this one?
- How many hits does it take to rid an Orc of evil?
- Is there a properly made standardized list of divine bribes?
- Are these "visions" a result of such a bribe?
Journal of W.E. Tupper, Day 145-149
Day 145
Back home at last, hooray. Turned in my old journal to Smythe, bought a new one. The first hearing is scheduled for Day 147. Didn't get a chance to see Milya, but I saw plenty of Stuart and Smythe. Answered a lot of 'informal' inquiries on my reports and messages (namely, "are you fucking crazy". I am not looking forward to the review of my short time in an Ismere asylum.)
Found an inn and crashed there for the night.
Day 146
Finally caught up with Milya. She's been well since the last recount, and thought my coded message to her was hilarious (both before and after decoding it). She delivered it all the same, but hasn't heard much about it since.
She's still friends with Art the book merchant but her fanaticism about dwarven long-form mining epics has cooled, especially since she learned they were really commentaries about the social injustices in dwarven society and not about the wild untamed frontier of caves.
Day 147
The first hearing of several, and I'm sick to the teeth of it already.
We spent an hour dissecting the first three sentences in my journal. One full hour. Apparently the glibness of my statements belied my apathy about the assignment. My portrayal of Stuart as a "finagler" was also studiously nitpicked. Attempts to explain about the vast world of humor went ignored.If I ever have to submit this journal to that bastard, I will burn it beforehan I can't wait to see what Smythe comes up with about my loathing of sheep next week.
This is going to be a long, long process.
Day 148
There was a note on my door when I came in last night. I don't recall telling many people where I was staying in the city, and damned if it doesn't relate to me. All it said was "I know where the crate came from" and it was signed '4C'. No address, no names, nothing. So, having nothing to do and every reason to do nothing else, I decided to track the bastard down. Innkeeper said he didn't see anybody come in that didn't lodge here, and asking the three other people here about the note left me with three sets of blank stares and one set of naked breasts. There are no female lodgers at the inn.
Feeling suddenly liberated of my appetite, I set about surveying the outside of the inn and found the subtle indentations over my window frame of a grappling hook. Or it would be subtle if it didn't still have the grappling hook in it. So the bastard broke into my room from the inside and left the note on the outside of the door. He's either very clever, or very dumb. Managed to dislodge the hook and ask about it with the nearest blacksmith. He said he may know a guy in the Thrums who makes things like it, and I'd have followed up on this if it wasn't getting on in the day. You don't piss about in the Thrums after dark. Tomorrow, though.
Day 149
Milya managed to track me down and ambush me this morning with a plot to wander around the Scoops. Apparently she wanted me to meet Art and be friends with him. So we went down to his shop, Mazong Books, and paid him a visit. I was polite, I was courteous, and he was a self-absorbed prick who couldn't shut up about books if one was lodged in his throat. We left his shop with two books, one for Milya and one for me; "The Definition of Evil" and "Religion and You: How and Why the Gods Talk to Us." I'm going to need something to read while Smythe blathers on about how lazily I cross my Ts, and it might as well be about how to get the other epic asshole off my back.
Back home at last, hooray. Turned in my old journal to Smythe, bought a new one. The first hearing is scheduled for Day 147. Didn't get a chance to see Milya, but I saw plenty of Stuart and Smythe. Answered a lot of 'informal' inquiries on my reports and messages (namely, "are you fucking crazy". I am not looking forward to the review of my short time in an Ismere asylum.)
Found an inn and crashed there for the night.
Day 146
Finally caught up with Milya. She's been well since the last recount, and thought my coded message to her was hilarious (both before and after decoding it). She delivered it all the same, but hasn't heard much about it since.
She's still friends with Art the book merchant but her fanaticism about dwarven long-form mining epics has cooled, especially since she learned they were really commentaries about the social injustices in dwarven society and not about the wild untamed frontier of caves.
Day 147
The first hearing of several, and I'm sick to the teeth of it already.
We spent an hour dissecting the first three sentences in my journal. One full hour. Apparently the glibness of my statements belied my apathy about the assignment. My portrayal of Stuart as a "finagler" was also studiously nitpicked. Attempts to explain about the vast world of humor went ignored.
This is going to be a long, long process.
Day 148
There was a note on my door when I came in last night. I don't recall telling many people where I was staying in the city, and damned if it doesn't relate to me. All it said was "I know where the crate came from" and it was signed '4C'. No address, no names, nothing. So, having nothing to do and every reason to do nothing else, I decided to track the bastard down. Innkeeper said he didn't see anybody come in that didn't lodge here, and asking the three other people here about the note left me with three sets of blank stares and one set of naked breasts. There are no female lodgers at the inn.
Feeling suddenly liberated of my appetite, I set about surveying the outside of the inn and found the subtle indentations over my window frame of a grappling hook. Or it would be subtle if it didn't still have the grappling hook in it. So the bastard broke into my room from the inside and left the note on the outside of the door. He's either very clever, or very dumb. Managed to dislodge the hook and ask about it with the nearest blacksmith. He said he may know a guy in the Thrums who makes things like it, and I'd have followed up on this if it wasn't getting on in the day. You don't piss about in the Thrums after dark. Tomorrow, though.
Day 149
Milya managed to track me down and ambush me this morning with a plot to wander around the Scoops. Apparently she wanted me to meet Art and be friends with him. So we went down to his shop, Mazong Books, and paid him a visit. I was polite, I was courteous, and he was a self-absorbed prick who couldn't shut up about books if one was lodged in his throat. We left his shop with two books, one for Milya and one for me; "The Definition of Evil" and "Religion and You: How and Why the Gods Talk to Us." I'm going to need something to read while Smythe blathers on about how lazily I cross my Ts, and it might as well be about how to get the other epic asshole off my back.
Journal of Grungar the Masher, Day 147-148
Today is so good I buy book for writing to remeber!
Hello book! You smell like log!
Okay so yesterday. Tavernman at RiverDolfin Dolphin say he make my job into big show! He give me metal shirt wtih sign on back!
But then, when doing big show, I finnaly meet pals-of-dan!
One friend has shiny armor and big words. His name is Arkadesh and he is best friend of Dan. :)
Other friend is REALLY SMALL. Her name is Stu and I might squish if I not safe, but I be safe okay. :D
Other other friend is SMALL but not as Stu small. His name is Flan and he has no hair. :/
Other other other friend is scary notorc. His name is Odda and he is ears are weird. {:O
Other other other other friend is broken notorc. His name is The Moot and he has no words in mouth. I will break bad person that broke him. >:{
Other other other other other friend is bright colors. His name is Jycobb and he sound funny.
Other other ohter other other other friend is muddyskin. His name is Shift but he had to go save Detrout.
So many friends! But then I meet greatest friend of all when not awake!
I MEET DAN!!!!
Dan say go fourth with His friends! So I do and His friends like me!! We team up for badmash!
Okay so today. we find drood lady in trees that can fling us to faraway where bad things are tommorow.
I get to badmash with many friends! And they don't give me moneys to be my friends! :D
This is best days evers!
Hello book! You smell like log!
Okay so yesterday. Tavernman at River
But then, when doing big show, I finnaly meet pals-of-dan!
One friend has shiny armor and big words. His name is Arkadesh and he is best friend of Dan. :)
Other friend is REALLY SMALL. Her name is Stu and I might squish if I not safe, but I be safe okay. :D
Other other friend is SMALL but not as Stu small. His name is Flan and he has no hair. :/
Other other other friend is scary notorc. His name is Odda and he is ears are weird. {:O
Other other other other friend is broken notorc. His name is The Moot and he has no words in mouth. I will break bad person that broke him. >:{
Other other other other other friend is bright colors. His name is Jycobb and he sound funny.
Other other ohter other other other friend is muddyskin. His name is Shift but he had to go save Detrout.
So many friends! But then I meet greatest friend of all when not awake!
I MEET DAN!!!!
Dan say go fourth with His friends! So I do and His friends like me!! We team up for badmash!
Okay so today. we find drood lady in trees that can fling us to faraway where bad things are tommorow.
I get to badmash with many friends! And they don't give me moneys to be my friends! :D
This is best days evers!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Journal of Arcadius - Day 141
An eventful return
Our quest for the dragon went in an unexpected direction. Led by the dragon hunter, we found the dragon's lair. Upon arrival, the dragon proved to be home, and the dragon hunter proved to be both surprised and afraid. Given we were there to fight the dragon, this was very strange indeed. I immediately began to question the character of our erstwhile ally. Was he there to plunder the dragon's lair, with us as dupes?
My musings were interrupted by the dragon himself, who stated he'd been hunting the "dragon hunter", and that this man was in fact a servant of the sunken city and the alienists. Given the odd sense the man had given earlier, and his cowardly behavior when faced with the actual dragon, this made sense. We believed the dragon. I asked him what we could do to convince him to stop burning villages. He said, let him eat the "dragon hunter". Given that this particular dragon seems not to have troubled the kingdom of Izmir before, we again believed him. I took the dragon at his word, and at that very time the "dragon hunter" fled, aided by magics more suitable for a sneak and a rogue than a man who claims to slay dragons for his living.
After a brief chase, during which the mute again demonstrated his strange but useful powers, and Jacob briefly attempted an aerial duel, the "dragon hunter" took a flying dive off the high cliff outside the dragon's lair, but was interrupted by the dragon.
It could not have been pleasant.
We waited, as I was intent to ask the dragon to give us a proper oath. However when he returned with his prey, kept alive and imprisoned in a manner disturbingly like a very large cat, he was not inclined to do so. Eventually the others by various means managed to annoy the dragon enough that it was clear not only would he give no further promises, but that it would be wise to leave unless we sought battle with him that day.
I pray to Pelor that this dragon does keep his word, and that his indifference to Izmir prior to the arrival of the "dragon hunter" is a model for his future behavior.
We shall see.
The remainder of the trip to Izmir was eventful as well. It seems the mute cannot ride a horse, and I was once again glad of our cart. On my watch at night, I noticed a strange and indeed ghostly glow in the distance. It was unwise to abandon my post to go investigate it, and so long as it moved no closer, I decided to let my companions sleep. In the morrow, Walter-Tupper was acting, again, even stranger. At first, I thought his madness was again upon him. When asked if he was alright, he was evasive and said various muddled and questionable things. The glow of the prior night came to mind, and after various lies to the rest of us, he finally admitted his ghostly companion, Mona, had come to visit him. It is strange, but it almost seems as if there is some sort of fated relationship between the living man and the ages-dead young woman. Walter-Tupper's erratic and emotional behavior made it seem as if there were depths of great feeling to that relationship.
Truly strange are the ways of fate! This was a tale for our bard, and she put her great skill composing an appropriate song for this star-crossed pair.
We came upon a fallen black tree trunk across the road, itself a strange thing, and in addition this tree was covered in some sort of suspicious-looking moss. I asked everyone to hold back while we decided what to do, but the mute ran forward and disturbed the moss - which promptly burst forth a foul cloud of spores. We were engulfed.
I felt strange afterward, and wonder about the others. This was not placed there idly. Whatever its lingering effects may be, we will no doubt find out. Fortunately, Fflam used his new mastery of hurled Alchemist's Fire to burn the vile moss away before it could harm others. We then hauled the log away from the road.
Finally, we came across a destroyed caravan, all the merchants slain and the whole burned with fire. Praise the gods, it was not dragonfire! The fire may have come from alcohol, as the caravan appeared to have been carrying liquor. We investigated and found some few effects remaining, including a cask of some undrinkable type of alcohol that had upon it a seal-mark of a merchant house. We resolved to bring it to Izmir to try to return it to its owners, and bring news of the caravan.
We also decided to hunt for those who may have attacked it.
We found tracks belonging to some sort of clawed creatures, with a trail leading into the mountains. We followed it and found a camp, containing many such tracks, a burned-out fire, and a half-eaten cow. Whatever they were, they possessed powerful claws and teeth. Walter-Tupper made a bet with the mute that they were werewolves.
How frivolous people can be.
Eventually, we camped ourselves, and were set upon in the night by what turned out to be some breed of lizard-man - more intelligent and dangerous than ones I'd heard of before. One of them was a mage, who did us great harm with lightning bolts and a fireball. The lizard-men were aided by a reptilian equivalent of hunting hounds, and these did great damage leaping onto the backs of Fflam and Oda. However, eventually we had the upper hand and they teleported away.
Upon our return to Izmir, we attempted to locate the owners of the destroyed caravan, got some needed rest, and visited the mage with whom we'd done business in the past. He gave a very substantial amount of money for the ring of evasion I wore. I distributed among the party and found we are now, for the first time in a while, well-funded. I and the other party members quickly set about planning how to equip themselves with these funds.
Ah, and Walter-Tupper seems to have been called back to Point of Origin. At least, he left a note to that effect. He slipped out without a farewell. Perhaps he is hiding something? Perhaps he goes to seek his lost Mona and make his amends...
Upon reflection, that would be very bad, for she seems to be part of a seal that holds back the evil and alien forces that beset the lands. How dreadful if Walter-Tupper's ill-starred romance were to alter the very fate of the world!
I pray to the gods that it is be not so.
*A*
Our quest for the dragon went in an unexpected direction. Led by the dragon hunter, we found the dragon's lair. Upon arrival, the dragon proved to be home, and the dragon hunter proved to be both surprised and afraid. Given we were there to fight the dragon, this was very strange indeed. I immediately began to question the character of our erstwhile ally. Was he there to plunder the dragon's lair, with us as dupes?
My musings were interrupted by the dragon himself, who stated he'd been hunting the "dragon hunter", and that this man was in fact a servant of the sunken city and the alienists. Given the odd sense the man had given earlier, and his cowardly behavior when faced with the actual dragon, this made sense. We believed the dragon. I asked him what we could do to convince him to stop burning villages. He said, let him eat the "dragon hunter". Given that this particular dragon seems not to have troubled the kingdom of Izmir before, we again believed him. I took the dragon at his word, and at that very time the "dragon hunter" fled, aided by magics more suitable for a sneak and a rogue than a man who claims to slay dragons for his living.
After a brief chase, during which the mute again demonstrated his strange but useful powers, and Jacob briefly attempted an aerial duel, the "dragon hunter" took a flying dive off the high cliff outside the dragon's lair, but was interrupted by the dragon.
It could not have been pleasant.
We waited, as I was intent to ask the dragon to give us a proper oath. However when he returned with his prey, kept alive and imprisoned in a manner disturbingly like a very large cat, he was not inclined to do so. Eventually the others by various means managed to annoy the dragon enough that it was clear not only would he give no further promises, but that it would be wise to leave unless we sought battle with him that day.
I pray to Pelor that this dragon does keep his word, and that his indifference to Izmir prior to the arrival of the "dragon hunter" is a model for his future behavior.
We shall see.
The remainder of the trip to Izmir was eventful as well. It seems the mute cannot ride a horse, and I was once again glad of our cart. On my watch at night, I noticed a strange and indeed ghostly glow in the distance. It was unwise to abandon my post to go investigate it, and so long as it moved no closer, I decided to let my companions sleep. In the morrow, Walter-Tupper was acting, again, even stranger. At first, I thought his madness was again upon him. When asked if he was alright, he was evasive and said various muddled and questionable things. The glow of the prior night came to mind, and after various lies to the rest of us, he finally admitted his ghostly companion, Mona, had come to visit him. It is strange, but it almost seems as if there is some sort of fated relationship between the living man and the ages-dead young woman. Walter-Tupper's erratic and emotional behavior made it seem as if there were depths of great feeling to that relationship.
Truly strange are the ways of fate! This was a tale for our bard, and she put her great skill composing an appropriate song for this star-crossed pair.
We came upon a fallen black tree trunk across the road, itself a strange thing, and in addition this tree was covered in some sort of suspicious-looking moss. I asked everyone to hold back while we decided what to do, but the mute ran forward and disturbed the moss - which promptly burst forth a foul cloud of spores. We were engulfed.
I felt strange afterward, and wonder about the others. This was not placed there idly. Whatever its lingering effects may be, we will no doubt find out. Fortunately, Fflam used his new mastery of hurled Alchemist's Fire to burn the vile moss away before it could harm others. We then hauled the log away from the road.
Finally, we came across a destroyed caravan, all the merchants slain and the whole burned with fire. Praise the gods, it was not dragonfire! The fire may have come from alcohol, as the caravan appeared to have been carrying liquor. We investigated and found some few effects remaining, including a cask of some undrinkable type of alcohol that had upon it a seal-mark of a merchant house. We resolved to bring it to Izmir to try to return it to its owners, and bring news of the caravan.
We also decided to hunt for those who may have attacked it.
We found tracks belonging to some sort of clawed creatures, with a trail leading into the mountains. We followed it and found a camp, containing many such tracks, a burned-out fire, and a half-eaten cow. Whatever they were, they possessed powerful claws and teeth. Walter-Tupper made a bet with the mute that they were werewolves.
How frivolous people can be.
Eventually, we camped ourselves, and were set upon in the night by what turned out to be some breed of lizard-man - more intelligent and dangerous than ones I'd heard of before. One of them was a mage, who did us great harm with lightning bolts and a fireball. The lizard-men were aided by a reptilian equivalent of hunting hounds, and these did great damage leaping onto the backs of Fflam and Oda. However, eventually we had the upper hand and they teleported away.
Upon our return to Izmir, we attempted to locate the owners of the destroyed caravan, got some needed rest, and visited the mage with whom we'd done business in the past. He gave a very substantial amount of money for the ring of evasion I wore. I distributed among the party and found we are now, for the first time in a while, well-funded. I and the other party members quickly set about planning how to equip themselves with these funds.
Ah, and Walter-Tupper seems to have been called back to Point of Origin. At least, he left a note to that effect. He slipped out without a farewell. Perhaps he is hiding something? Perhaps he goes to seek his lost Mona and make his amends...
Upon reflection, that would be very bad, for she seems to be part of a seal that holds back the evil and alien forces that beset the lands. How dreadful if Walter-Tupper's ill-starred romance were to alter the very fate of the world!
I pray to the gods that it is be not so.
*A*
Monday, August 17, 2009
Journal of W.E. Tupper, Day 129-144
Day 129
We found the dragon. Or, at least, it let us find it.
It has a lair up northish. I will not go into further details on the basis that making extensive notes about the whereabouts of dragon lairs is very likely to get you roasted alive.
In a rare and refreshing change of pace, we talked to it before trying to beat the rago out of it. Apparently, all the village attacks had been part of a campaign to destroy some kind of agent from the underwater city. Countless people dead in the hopes of potentially killing one man. This is why you do not mess with dragons: they are creatures that have flown above us for so long that they stopped thinking we look like ants and started thinking we are ants.
Oh, but fortune binds our every step! For the shifty bastard that the dragon seeks is also the shifty bastard that led us to the dragon lair! We even managed to eke out a rudimentary pact, in which we hand him over in exchange for a cessation on village assaults (and also our own lives). And so we watched the dragon swoop down and pluck him out of the sky (the shifty bastard could fly, you see, and was keen to leave).
After that, there was an awkward moment where all the paladins wanted to chat the dragon up. Arcadius was keen to make sure the creature would keep its word, and I was keen not to disturb a gigantic predator with a fresh meal on hand. At least, I hope it was just a meal and not a new… plaything.
We're heading back to Izmere to regroup and work out a plan of attack.
Day 133
Oh boy what a day.
So, I had the dream where Moana the Ghost cries out to me asking why I betrayed her. And last night, one of the watch groups saw a glow coming from a group of trees. Upon hearing this, I let slip I had the dream. It was then deduced by our crackerjack team of sleuths that either I am madly in love with the ghost, the ghost is madly in love with me, or that we are madly in love with each other. Attempts to persuade them otherwise went poorly.
And then, the gnome wrote a song about it.
I may never live this down.
Day 134
She is still singing it.
SHE IS STILL SINGING IT.
Day 137
We came upon a log across the road. A log covered in a moss that explodes into spores if disturbed. Guess how we found this out.
Fflam set the moss on fire and the log was moved off the path. And yes, she is still singing it.
Day 138
My life is a never-ceasing pile of weirdness and woe.
Half a day from Ismere, we find a caravan on the road. Or at least the charred corpses and burned-out rubble of what used to be a caravan. The mute found a cask and stash of slightly-melted coins in the wreckage and went to work like a hunting dog. We set about burning the bodies even more while he goes padding out tracking the scent. Apparently the assailants set up camp a way off from the road beforehand. There they feasted on a cow. I have a bet with the mute that it's werewolves. The trail leads around towards the mountains, which is where we're camping for the night. There is something very wrong with your life when you hope the criminals you're tracking are merely werewolves.
Day 139
The raiders that attacked the caravan, or at least another roving gang of miscreants, attacked us last night. We managed to drive them off despite my tendency to shoot allies in the midst of combat. And it appears they were not werewolves but lizardmen. Fortunately the mute didn't gloat about his victory, or maybe he did; I didn't watch him the whole time. But hey, we're all alive and of good health, and back in Ismere to boot. I am going to relish in my oft-forgotten ability to not move a lot.
Day 141
The tavernkeep finally got around to delivering our mail, and I got a letter from a Major Smythe. Apparently it had been sent to Stonekeep, and was now making the return trip.
I have been recalled to Point of Origin, to be questioned and examined on suspicions of improper and vagarious behavior. I must leave immediately, and the next caravan out is scheduled for tomorrow morning. They will be reading this journal, to determine the veracity of my reports and my qualifications for this assignment.
F[heavy scribbling]
We found the dragon. Or, at least, it let us find it.
It has a lair up northish. I will not go into further details on the basis that making extensive notes about the whereabouts of dragon lairs is very likely to get you roasted alive.
In a rare and refreshing change of pace, we talked to it before trying to beat the rago out of it. Apparently, all the village attacks had been part of a campaign to destroy some kind of agent from the underwater city. Countless people dead in the hopes of potentially killing one man. This is why you do not mess with dragons: they are creatures that have flown above us for so long that they stopped thinking we look like ants and started thinking we are ants.
Oh, but fortune binds our every step! For the shifty bastard that the dragon seeks is also the shifty bastard that led us to the dragon lair! We even managed to eke out a rudimentary pact, in which we hand him over in exchange for a cessation on village assaults (and also our own lives). And so we watched the dragon swoop down and pluck him out of the sky (the shifty bastard could fly, you see, and was keen to leave).
After that, there was an awkward moment where all the paladins wanted to chat the dragon up. Arcadius was keen to make sure the creature would keep its word, and I was keen not to disturb a gigantic predator with a fresh meal on hand. At least, I hope it was just a meal and not a new… plaything.
We're heading back to Izmere to regroup and work out a plan of attack.
Day 133
Oh boy what a day.
So, I had the dream where Moana the Ghost cries out to me asking why I betrayed her. And last night, one of the watch groups saw a glow coming from a group of trees. Upon hearing this, I let slip I had the dream. It was then deduced by our crackerjack team of sleuths that either I am madly in love with the ghost, the ghost is madly in love with me, or that we are madly in love with each other. Attempts to persuade them otherwise went poorly.
And then, the gnome wrote a song about it.
I may never live this down.
Day 134
She is still singing it.
SHE IS STILL SINGING IT.
Day 137
We came upon a log across the road. A log covered in a moss that explodes into spores if disturbed. Guess how we found this out.
Fflam set the moss on fire and the log was moved off the path. And yes, she is still singing it.
Day 138
My life is a never-ceasing pile of weirdness and woe.
Half a day from Ismere, we find a caravan on the road. Or at least the charred corpses and burned-out rubble of what used to be a caravan. The mute found a cask and stash of slightly-melted coins in the wreckage and went to work like a hunting dog. We set about burning the bodies even more while he goes padding out tracking the scent. Apparently the assailants set up camp a way off from the road beforehand. There they feasted on a cow. I have a bet with the mute that it's werewolves. The trail leads around towards the mountains, which is where we're camping for the night. There is something very wrong with your life when you hope the criminals you're tracking are merely werewolves.
Day 139
The raiders that attacked the caravan, or at least another roving gang of miscreants, attacked us last night. We managed to drive them off despite my tendency to shoot allies in the midst of combat. And it appears they were not werewolves but lizardmen. Fortunately the mute didn't gloat about his victory, or maybe he did; I didn't watch him the whole time. But hey, we're all alive and of good health, and back in Ismere to boot. I am going to relish in my oft-forgotten ability to not move a lot.
Day 141
The tavernkeep finally got around to delivering our mail, and I got a letter from a Major Smythe. Apparently it had been sent to Stonekeep, and was now making the return trip.
I have been recalled to Point of Origin, to be questioned and examined on suspicions of improper and vagarious behavior. I must leave immediately, and the next caravan out is scheduled for tomorrow morning. They will be reading this journal, to determine the veracity of my reports and my qualifications for this assignment.
F[heavy scribbling]
Weakening Alias: (Oda)
It seems that the lack of respect is not just a product of the local people but extends to it’s powerful creatures. After the dragon returned with the dragon hunter I asked if I could inspect the dragon hunter’s body for information about these people from the sea. The dragon came straight out and threatened me. It puzzles me that people and creatures in this land are not willing to work with each other against a conman enemy. Instead all they want to do is fight. Hmm come to think about it is our group so different. We seem to attack first and look for answers later. I need to spend some time and reflect on this. Perhaps I am just as much at fault in weakening our allies. Maybe if we had not attacked that necromancy would the battle at Stone keep gone differently. O how much easier life was back when all I did was train.
The Mute: Day I Really Ought to Take Note of What Day It Is
Lessons Learned
- Dragons in this part of the world are quite rude.
- In this part of the world, it is considered an honorable battle to fight lunatics, old women, and invisible people.
- These lunatics are also responsible for trees that bleed, but only at night in remote parts of the forest with no witnesses.
- These lunatics also have an otter with a "dying problem".
- People in this part of the world customarily dishonor the dead.
- Here, "Tea" is slang for some manner of party.
- There are unfriendly lizard men in the mountains.
- They do not appreciate alcohol, and express their dislike in an explosive fashion.
- Lizard men consider Elves food.
- Lizard men have lizard pets.
- Lizard men are not very good fighters.
- Ismere is a large city, housing the lord who has lost the mandate of heaven.
- Ismere have weapons sellers who can at least craft standard weapons, though they do not keep them in stock.
- Do the "honorable" here also have delusional visions and hear voices in their heads?
- Is murdering the pets of the mentally challenged also considered honorable?
- Did the lords here lose the mandate of heaven because of the dishonoring of the dead?
- Do lizard men have weak stomachs, such that they cannot hold their liquor?
- When a lord has his lands ravaged by bandits and dragons, his ports supernaturally frozen over, his people dishonoring their ancestors, and a population so hedonistic that even drinking tea is a cause for a party, can it be assumed that the gods have informed this lord that he has lost the mandate of heaven, or will he be too deaf to hear them, and must we mortals then step in and inform him of heaven's clear judgment?
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Journal of Arcadius - Day 129
An unlikely escape
Strange adventures we have had. After finally making our leave of the lady, we were followed by the pseudonatural Dire Tiger. However, for all its alien appearance it still seemed to have something of the nature of cats about it. The mute in particular seemed to have befriended it. Strange, but welcome.
We decided that our most likely way out was through one of the teleportation circles in the Drow complex. However, these require the use of a special dust. After some discussion it was agreed to go visit the lady again and, however unlikely it may seem, to ask her for some.
As it turned out, she had none, but said dust was an ingredient in her brain seasoning. She agreed to give us another vial of the stuff (and certain persons were restrained from the temptation to drink it), and we again bid her goodbye.
The potion, as a source of dust, did not work perfectly.
We were teleported to a far cold northern land, and specifically to a ruined castle there. A village down below was full of pale but dark-haired folk who looked distinctly like those who had captured Stonekeep. Jacob decided to investigate, and took an excessively long time to do so, stopping for drinks and whatnot, but upon his return verified that it was in fact a town of the same folk.
Using our ring from the lady Alis Gozen, we returned to her city.
Taking some stock of our raid, we had killed one high-ranking member of their house, several lesser folk, uncovered a traitor in their midst, discovered useful information, and captured a spellbook, a teleportation key, and a considerable amount of equipment. Not success, but on the whole not a disaster either.
Except for Alcander, may the gods commend his soul.
At our return, we were promptly invited into the presence of the lady Gozen. We presented our report and turned over to her the spellbook, key, other notable items, and much Drow gear. We kept certain magic items useful to us. Despite our failure to annihilate the corrupted Drow house, she was clearly pleased and invited us to return later to complete the job. Someday we shall. For my part, because my word has been given, and, because it is a piece of a great cause.
From there, we were teleported by the Drow to Umea to retrieve our horses and the cart, except for Miranda, who was sent straight to Izmir. Traveling south from Umea we found that more villages had been burned and that it was indeed the work of a dragon. In the first village not yet destroyed, though half-abandoned due to the well-founded fear of the people, we encountered a self-proclaimed Dragon Slayer. Though there were things that seemed odd about him, he seemed to know of what he spoke and we agreed to go with him to seek the dragon.
We shall see how this goes. I have some misgivings, yet nothing I can point to directly. Time will tell. May Pelor guide us and the gods keep us.
*A*
Strange adventures we have had. After finally making our leave of the lady, we were followed by the pseudonatural Dire Tiger. However, for all its alien appearance it still seemed to have something of the nature of cats about it. The mute in particular seemed to have befriended it. Strange, but welcome.
We decided that our most likely way out was through one of the teleportation circles in the Drow complex. However, these require the use of a special dust. After some discussion it was agreed to go visit the lady again and, however unlikely it may seem, to ask her for some.
As it turned out, she had none, but said dust was an ingredient in her brain seasoning. She agreed to give us another vial of the stuff (and certain persons were restrained from the temptation to drink it), and we again bid her goodbye.
The potion, as a source of dust, did not work perfectly.
We were teleported to a far cold northern land, and specifically to a ruined castle there. A village down below was full of pale but dark-haired folk who looked distinctly like those who had captured Stonekeep. Jacob decided to investigate, and took an excessively long time to do so, stopping for drinks and whatnot, but upon his return verified that it was in fact a town of the same folk.
Using our ring from the lady Alis Gozen, we returned to her city.
Taking some stock of our raid, we had killed one high-ranking member of their house, several lesser folk, uncovered a traitor in their midst, discovered useful information, and captured a spellbook, a teleportation key, and a considerable amount of equipment. Not success, but on the whole not a disaster either.
Except for Alcander, may the gods commend his soul.
At our return, we were promptly invited into the presence of the lady Gozen. We presented our report and turned over to her the spellbook, key, other notable items, and much Drow gear. We kept certain magic items useful to us. Despite our failure to annihilate the corrupted Drow house, she was clearly pleased and invited us to return later to complete the job. Someday we shall. For my part, because my word has been given, and, because it is a piece of a great cause.
From there, we were teleported by the Drow to Umea to retrieve our horses and the cart, except for Miranda, who was sent straight to Izmir. Traveling south from Umea we found that more villages had been burned and that it was indeed the work of a dragon. In the first village not yet destroyed, though half-abandoned due to the well-founded fear of the people, we encountered a self-proclaimed Dragon Slayer. Though there were things that seemed odd about him, he seemed to know of what he spoke and we agreed to go with him to seek the dragon.
We shall see how this goes. I have some misgivings, yet nothing I can point to directly. Time will tell. May Pelor guide us and the gods keep us.
*A*
Monday, August 10, 2009
Journal of W.E. Tupper, Day 123-128
Day 125
Where the hells to begin.
All right. First I should note, for the record, that our group has violated a vast swath of local and foreign laws. I have not raised objections on the bases that our investigation into the invasion of black longships reached a dead end and our actions served as a way to advance, and that contradicting a knight of the Order is not something a would-be lieutenant is wont to do.
So we start the day yesterday by arriving at the teleportation laboratory. We pop into the residence, and Alcander immediately starts yelling about how all the drow in the house should come and face us. They promptly do so for the rest of our stay, in varying numbers and abilities. We proceed to find evidence that this drow house is directly involved in whatever the hell the coral gateways and the city in the sea are. But what the hells isn't these days?
Alcander is dead, and I would regret his passing if he was actually gone. At one point I came under the effects of a sleep spell and met up with my persistent friends Lord Loincloth and his brand-new sidekick Shouty (also known as Heracles and Alcander). One of these days I am going to find a proper priest and ask him how to politely tell a god off.
We found a mute caged up in one of the drow prisons. He has already taken a dislike to me as, apparently, being unable to translate his wild flailings into a coherent language is evidence enough of being an imbecile. The irony is nigh-palpable.
But, despite all our glorious failings in the realms of hired goonery, our employers were pleased. They told us that the underwater city has always been submerged, that it is north of Jokelmeir, and that it has been affecting things strangely. That's all, that's it. I am now well and truly beginning to loathe the Drow. Ah, but now we rest in Oohmaya, with cold beds and a colder harbor. But at least we're alive. For the most part.
To recap yesterday's events: a list of all the crimes committed, or at least the ones I can recall or verify. And before my superiors ask, I am involved to one degree or another in all of these.
- Willful Aid and Abetment of a Foreign Power with Internal Affairs without Authorization
- Breaking and Entering a Residence
- Multiple counts of Petty Theft
- Multiple counts of Grand Theft, with at least two counts of Grand Theft Arcana
- Willful destruction of property without Authorization
- Potential First-degree Murder of a foreign dignitary
- Extraction of Prisoner(s) detained by Foreign Powers without Authorization (this I can live with)
- Willful Tampering with Arcane Ritual(s) without Authorization
- Willful and Flagrant Abuse of Magical Item(s) and/or Spell(s)
- Release of Hostile or Malevolent Being(s) or Person(s) (not the same as the unauth. extraction)
- Attempted Sale of Humanoid Organs as Foodstuffs
- Tired. There are more. I know it.
Day 126
We're going dragon hunting.
I must have missed the edict that demanded we drop the one slim lead we have and go fart about with smart-aleck winged lizards. So we pissed off to the sort of town that this one dragon is likely to assault, and lo and behold we find a dragonhunter in the tavern; a fellow named Ostrian. We recruited him to help us end the dragon because why the hell not. He knows where the lair is, too. So we're going to head over there and play at adventurer for awhile as the world turns into a corally-pseudonatural mush. Hooray.
Where the hells to begin.
All right. First I should note, for the record, that our group has violated a vast swath of local and foreign laws. I have not raised objections on the bases that our investigation into the invasion of black longships reached a dead end and our actions served as a way to advance, and that contradicting a knight of the Order is not something a would-be lieutenant is wont to do.
So we start the day yesterday by arriving at the teleportation laboratory. We pop into the residence, and Alcander immediately starts yelling about how all the drow in the house should come and face us. They promptly do so for the rest of our stay, in varying numbers and abilities. We proceed to find evidence that this drow house is directly involved in whatever the hell the coral gateways and the city in the sea are. But what the hells isn't these days?
Alcander is dead, and I would regret his passing if he was actually gone. At one point I came under the effects of a sleep spell and met up with my persistent friends Lord Loincloth and his brand-new sidekick Shouty (also known as Heracles and Alcander). One of these days I am going to find a proper priest and ask him how to politely tell a god off.
We found a mute caged up in one of the drow prisons. He has already taken a dislike to me as, apparently, being unable to translate his wild flailings into a coherent language is evidence enough of being an imbecile. The irony is nigh-palpable.
But, despite all our glorious failings in the realms of hired goonery, our employers were pleased. They told us that the underwater city has always been submerged, that it is north of Jokelmeir, and that it has been affecting things strangely. That's all, that's it. I am now well and truly beginning to loathe the Drow. Ah, but now we rest in Oohmaya, with cold beds and a colder harbor. But at least we're alive. For the most part.
To recap yesterday's events: a list of all the crimes committed, or at least the ones I can recall or verify. And before my superiors ask, I am involved to one degree or another in all of these.
- Willful Aid and Abetment of a Foreign Power with Internal Affairs without Authorization
- Breaking and Entering a Residence
- Multiple counts of Petty Theft
- Multiple counts of Grand Theft, with at least two counts of Grand Theft Arcana
- Willful destruction of property without Authorization
- Potential First-degree Murder of a foreign dignitary
- Extraction of Prisoner(s) detained by Foreign Powers without Authorization (this I can live with)
- Willful Tampering with Arcane Ritual(s) without Authorization
- Willful and Flagrant Abuse of Magical Item(s) and/or Spell(s)
- Release of Hostile or Malevolent Being(s) or Person(s) (not the same as the unauth. extraction)
- Attempted Sale of Humanoid Organs as Foodstuffs
- Tired. There are more. I know it.
Day 126
We're going dragon hunting.
I must have missed the edict that demanded we drop the one slim lead we have and go fart about with smart-aleck winged lizards. So we pissed off to the sort of town that this one dragon is likely to assault, and lo and behold we find a dragonhunter in the tavern; a fellow named Ostrian. We recruited him to help us end the dragon because why the hell not. He knows where the lair is, too. So we're going to head over there and play at adventurer for awhile as the world turns into a corally-pseudonatural mush. Hooray.
Poison: in this land
There is a poison spreading through this land. It is running rampant and I am at a lost on how to stop it. The source of this poison is the land which lies under the sea. They have means to either replace or influence high officials. They also have followers that are traveling through these lands. We meet one of these followers the other day by chance. We were looking into the dragon attacks on towns and came across a gentleman who claimed to be a dragon slayer. With his help we tracked down the dragon, but that is when things got interesting.
The dragon informed us that he was attacking villages trying to track down none other then the dragon hunter. The dragon claimed that the mad was working with the people from the sea and he must be killed. Just as he told us this we turned around only to see him running away. Jacob and our new companion had the most success in slowing him down, which I must say they both posses very odd and useful abilities, but it was the dragon taking off and eating him mid flight which put an end to the dragon hunter. The draw back to this is we have no more information about these people. We need to find out more information on these people or they will succeed in taking over these lands.
The dragon informed us that he was attacking villages trying to track down none other then the dragon hunter. The dragon claimed that the mad was working with the people from the sea and he must be killed. Just as he told us this we turned around only to see him running away. Jacob and our new companion had the most success in slowing him down, which I must say they both posses very odd and useful abilities, but it was the dragon taking off and eating him mid flight which put an end to the dragon hunter. The draw back to this is we have no more information about these people. We need to find out more information on these people or they will succeed in taking over these lands.
Shaft's Dream
Distant drums. War drums. My town. We locals call it Motown, outsiders call it Detroit.
My dad, Shutchomouth, recently elected Meanmutha, lies bleeding in the street. My brother, Dolomite, and my cousin, Blackula, try to help him.
Big Mama and Foxy, my sister, are crying. There is a funeral pyre in the center of town, and the pageantry of the associated ceremony is fit for a Meanmutha. The traditional drink for the funerals of Meanmuthas, schlitz malt liquor, flows freely. Funk is heard throughout the town.
Motown appears to be under siege. It needs a Meanmutha. Shutchomouth must be avenged. And then Heironeous tells me, "Power to the People, Muthafucka." By using that traditional honorific (Muthafucka) I know he's calling me home.
*I wake up*
*I leave a note for Arcadius*
*I hit the road*
*Damn*
My dad, Shutchomouth, recently elected Meanmutha, lies bleeding in the street. My brother, Dolomite, and my cousin, Blackula, try to help him.
Big Mama and Foxy, my sister, are crying. There is a funeral pyre in the center of town, and the pageantry of the associated ceremony is fit for a Meanmutha. The traditional drink for the funerals of Meanmuthas, schlitz malt liquor, flows freely. Funk is heard throughout the town.
Motown appears to be under siege. It needs a Meanmutha. Shutchomouth must be avenged. And then Heironeous tells me, "Power to the People, Muthafucka." By using that traditional honorific (Muthafucka) I know he's calling me home.
*I wake up*
*I leave a note for Arcadius*
*I hit the road*
*Damn*
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Mute: Day 130
Lessons Learned
Questions for Further Study
- Drow use dust for teleportation.
- Certain non-magical amulets glow in the presence of dust teleporting circles.
- This form of teleportation is unreliable.
- Lands to the North are cold in this land, too.
- Jacob is slow.
- Some Drow are better hosts than others.
- Some Drow are more generous with gifts, but less so with their libraries.
- Tupper is an imbecile.
- My travelling companions are indecisive.
- Somewhere, an underwater city has risen.
- Umea is a port town.
- Their port is frozen over.
- The lands around Umea are under assault by bandits.
- There are dragons in this land, too.
- One of them is burning villages near Umea.
- There is a man named Osdrian who claims to be a dragon slayer.
- He is working for the underwater city.
Questions for Further Study
- What sort of dust?
- Is the poor teleportation a reason for the Drow's bad mood?
- What is this underwater city?
- Have Umea's rulers lost the Mandate of Heaven?
- Why is Umea still populated?
- How does one ally with a collection of buildings?
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Journal of Arcadius - Day 125 - 3
I have been pondering the matter of our situation, my oath, and my duties to Lord Pelor.
It seems to me I may be too hasty. My oath to Lady Gozen did not specify a time in which this mission was to be accomplished, and we now know for OTHER reasons that we must destroy this house - they are involved in the great evils of the world. At the same time, Lord Pelor has chosen me for a purpose, and that purpose is surely not to die needlessly. Perhaps it might make sense after all to retreat, having clearly failed in our mission, and return another day. Indeed, we MUST do so. It may still be that my purpose is to cover the escape of the others, so that they may return in victory. We shall see.
***
Why cannot they learn respect? This noble lady may be mad, and our foe, but even a foe may be worthy of respect. Simple and polite. Is this so difficult? By the gods, the time...
At least Fflam is now awake. He seems disoriented, but at least not inclined to willingly feed his brain to an Ilithid.
***
(hastily written scrawl)
At last! They've done it! Ah wait... the tig e . r
It seems to me I may be too hasty. My oath to Lady Gozen did not specify a time in which this mission was to be accomplished, and we now know for OTHER reasons that we must destroy this house - they are involved in the great evils of the world. At the same time, Lord Pelor has chosen me for a purpose, and that purpose is surely not to die needlessly. Perhaps it might make sense after all to retreat, having clearly failed in our mission, and return another day. Indeed, we MUST do so. It may still be that my purpose is to cover the escape of the others, so that they may return in victory. We shall see.
***
Why cannot they learn respect? This noble lady may be mad, and our foe, but even a foe may be worthy of respect. Simple and polite. Is this so difficult? By the gods, the time...
At least Fflam is now awake. He seems disoriented, but at least not inclined to willingly feed his brain to an Ilithid.
***
(hastily written scrawl)
At last! They've done it! Ah wait... the tig e . r
Monday, August 3, 2009
Darkness approaches (Oda)
I sit here while my comrades attempt to show the proper respect to the eldest lady of the house. It shocks me that these people are so uncultured. Anyways, I feel a darkness closing upon us. The longer we stay here the stronger I can feel it. I believe it to be death coming for me.
I feel it trying to grab a hold of me. I wonder if it will be around the next corner waiting to strike me down. I have a strong belief that I will not make it out of this place. This however does not frighten me. I am will not allow these Drow to shake my spirit. I will go out fighting and take as many of them with me. They will learn that you should never underestimate Samurai. Even with our back against a wall we will not back down. We only know how to go forward. There is no retreat.
Hmm, it seems as if it is getting loader in the next room. I wonder what they are up to. Hopefully they have not insulted the elder and have forced us into a meaningless battle. They need to hurry up we still need to find Fflam. He deserves to prove himself on the battle field. The tricks these Drow play have taken this right away from him. I will not allow them to rob this from him.
I feel it trying to grab a hold of me. I wonder if it will be around the next corner waiting to strike me down. I have a strong belief that I will not make it out of this place. This however does not frighten me. I am will not allow these Drow to shake my spirit. I will go out fighting and take as many of them with me. They will learn that you should never underestimate Samurai. Even with our back against a wall we will not back down. We only know how to go forward. There is no retreat.
Hmm, it seems as if it is getting loader in the next room. I wonder what they are up to. Hopefully they have not insulted the elder and have forced us into a meaningless battle. They need to hurry up we still need to find Fflam. He deserves to prove himself on the battle field. The tricks these Drow play have taken this right away from him. I will not allow them to rob this from him.
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