The Aria of Tupper and Mona

(loosely to the tune of Habanera from Bizet's Carmen)

Tupper loved Mona, that we know,
Though it was doomed from the start.
He traveled with some Paladins
And she came to him in his dreams.
She was trapped in a dark prison
Her soul was held after her death.

Oh, Love!
Oh, Love!
Oh, Love!
Oh, Love!

He promised her
He'd set her free
Releasing her soul from her prison cell

If thou will set me free
If thou will set me free
I love thee!

But if she love thee
if she love thee,
Ah, then beware!

Sztuczka's Journal

I have re-written The Ballad of Tupper and Mona. It is more of an aria now! So beautiful!

I wonder if the group will ever hear the new version. Could you imagine Tupper's face if he were to ever hear it! It's beautiful! It would probably make him cry! I just wish I knew how it ended. If it's ended.

At any rate. Some of the other bards around Malaga have tossed around the idea of helping me turn this into an opera! An opera! I like that idea!

I wonder if I should give it a happy ending or a tragic one? More than likely tragic. That is what plays well here.

I wonder where the Paladins are now. I should try and track them down to get them a copy of the sheet music of the Aria. I wonder if they have a bard that will be able to play it and sing it for them. Or am I irreplaceable? I like to think I am irreplaceable. I wonder if they would be able to find a bard in an inn or someplace willing to play it...

Though that would require me getting a copy to them first. I wonder if Herakles or Pelor would be willing to help in that!

From the Journal of Hrogar

I've been thinking about the tactics that the Drow have been using. The only reason I can figure that we haven't faced a large attack squad is that they don't have the troops to send such a squad and still have enough troops to guard the soul and whatever else they have here. On the other hand, they could have sent such a force to attack us when they had us in the prison. Hmm, I wonder just how many Drow are in this temple anyway? Perhaps it's less than I'd originally thought. Either way, if their numbers are dwindling, then the amount that the bear killed may have significantly weakened them.

The issue remains, however, how much longer can Ragnarr keep us healthy. I'm not sure we're going to be able to find anywhere for him to rest long enough to regain his spells. And if such is the case, we may want to focus more on getting to the center of this place and achieving our objective instead of following after every Drow sent to distract us and run away.

Ragnarr: Letters from Drow Prison

Dear Hilga,

You'll be happy to know that, as you predicted, I'm writing this from jail. It was only a matter of time before I ended up in prison.

Of course, never mind the fact that I'm in the prison of an evil race run by women. You'd like it. From what I hear of the drow, the men do whatever they're told, and if they refuse, they can be beaten. And did I mention the evil? Yeah, right up your alley.

Mostly I'm just writing to let you know that, if I die, you're still not going to get a damn thing. I'm happy to say that I've still got nothing but armor that belongs to the church, and some money owed to me by various people who will likely die with me. Hell, the worst offender has already died once. I'll just be sure that he dies again before he manages to pay me back. Half my future wages indeed.

I suppose this isn't likely to get to you, anyway, unless the drow are working for you. Not that you would ever hire an assassin to kill me, though that was back when you were damn sure I had a stash of money hidden somewhere that I wasn't telling you about, and that I had fled from the jurisdiction just to hide it.

Yes, yes, I assure you that I'm still poor, and still haven't made anything with my life. Aside from, you know, saving the world and the people in it, but I know that doesn't really count. We're working on saving some lad right now. He seems like you're type: strong, stupid, and mostly naked.

How is Krug, anyway? Did that uncurable rash ever heal up?

Ah, well. It seems our wizard is going to try something that may kill us all, so I suppose I should wrap this up. We'll see if I survive, but if I die, I'll see you in hell.

Sincerely,
Ragnarr

Musings of Mistera - Following the Fearful Bear

I shift out of my small form, restoring my human self to the intruders.

"Greetings, I am Mistera, and I am here to help you on your quest."

To help a follower of Diana, it seems. Artemis' call now makes more sense, they must be on a very important quest for my deity to ask for my assistance. They are here to find the soul of one of their brethren, a follow of Heracles. I've agreed to assist them, and we start investigating the fortress.

There are many cells here, all of which I place my ear up to in order to listen for any signs of life. The rest of the group seems rather perplexed at my actions. I'm not certain any of them have lived for any substantial time in the wilderness or any other situation where one must be keenly aware of one's surroundings.

I continue scouting ahead, listening and gesturing safe passages to my new companions. A couple of times I've heard grunts of frustration and yelps of pain from the group, and I can only imagine that Drow ingenuity has outsmarted the conventional lockpick, as is usually the course. I'd rather lose my God-given abilities before touching a Drow door.

A large metal door gives me pause, as I hear voices on the other side that are decidedly not speaking Common. Knowing better, I wait until one of the hardy and sturdy Paladins opens the door - only but a crack while being shocked by lightning which would rival the bolts of Zeus. I feel some of the bolt, having it arc to me - my muscles stiffen painfully and I taste blood in my mouth. Remind me not to stand next to such conductive creatures as Paladins.

We're greeted by darkness after darkness - we dispel one only to meet another. Frustrated, I close my eyes and call upon the great spirits of Ursa for a companion. A gigantic bear materialized, who runs into the darkness. I hear screams and ripping flesh before I hear another sound - a great roar of terror. I brace the wall as the bear tramples out of the door and down the other side of the corridor. He disappears from sight.

The Drow are very cunning and sneaky. By the time we get past the darkness again, we're in a large cell room with a grate and a very painful rune on the wall. I know the Drow have gone down the grate, but to follow them would be unwise - there are surely more traps for us to fall into on the other side, and I don't want to be distracted from our quest. I continue the scouting mission again.

We follow the bear's carnage through the corridor, up a set of stairs (which the bear thankfully set off the trap for), and through a series of rooms. We encounter more Drow, more darkness, and stop short of entering places where we could have been ambushed. I'm growing frustrated that we can't finish the kills before they get to their defensible positions, and getting out of this fortress is going to be difficult for this group. I could sneak out, but I'm not sure about the rest of them.

With any luck, Artemis, I'll be able to keep this group from getting themselves killed.

Musings of Mistera - In the Maw of the Drow Fortress

Many days pass before reaching landmarks from my vision. I stretch my limbs and look to Cypress at my side. I snarl and growl to him, and he nods in understanding. He gobbles the rest of the rabbit carcass before settling in some foliage.

I growl and grimace as my body changes - bones crunch and joints grind as the forest becomes much larger and the smells stronger. I wriggle my nose, scratch my head and then scamper up to the keep.

Drow.

What kind of danger has one of my own kind gotten into, for me to be led into a Drow keep to offer my aid? I scamper in the shadows, wriggle through small holes and follow patrols, getting my bearings.

An alarm goes off - bells in the distance - and the patrol I'm following speeds up. I strain to keep up with my stubby furry legs, and only just manage to not lose them in the maze of cells. They draw their swords in preparation for battle, and my eyes scan the dim light, searching for the intruders.

One of them is her.

I sneak into a dark corner of the room before surveying the battle. The woman and her companions are already fighting a handful of Drow, and the casters look fatigued and weary. I wriggle my whiskers, recalling my spells from memory. I call forth wolverines to keep the fighters busy as I cast spells to penetrate the spellcaster's Anti-Life shell. The battle is joined by more Drow, one of which erects a very large and impenetrable wall of stone between his brethren and the intruders. I summon more wolverines to finish him off, and bite the last Drow in the ankle, passing a poison to him in the process, before he runs screaming into the corridor.

Squeaking in success and thanking the spirits of the wolverines for their sacrifice, I approach the stone wall. I place a tiny paw upon it, recall the words of stone shifting, and make a portal for the party to continue their escape.

Their surprise was amusing.

From the Journal of Hrogar

So the Druid who's joined us (Mystera, I think? Mystery-something, anyway) seems to be quite competent, which is a refreshing turn of events. She's been doing things like listening through doors before we open them and scouting ahead so she can see who might be ahead of us before the clanging of dwarven, paladin, and dwarven-paladin armor alerts everyone that we're within a half a mile. Makes me wonder why Tupper and/or Aurelia never thought of doing that (at least Fflam and I have the excuse that they didn't teach much stealth in the 'ol Paladin school).

Anyway, so we moved on and got into another fight, which required surviving fireballs and included an incident where a dire-bear was terrified, stampeded over me and on through the Drow fortress, killing all the drow in it's way (and doing a quite effective job it!) and eventually vanished after causing quite some trouble for them. However, it seems a number of Drow have been escaping us, and they don't seem to be in any hurry to re-engage us. The current theory is that they're fortifying their position within their stronghold, likely around whatever things they're protecting here (including the soul of Alcander). On one hand, it may mean that we want to move quickly to fight them before they finish fortifying their position. On the other hand, it might be a good idea to try to find a place to let Ragnarr rest and replenish his spells, otherwise we're going to have a very tough time of it indeed.

Armor for the Mage

As I sit getting hit by spells I have a better understanding why Ragnarr wears armor. I wish I would have brought some before we came out here. That way I would not be a drain on the healing. Not that I could afford a decent pair of armor when we last left town. If we make it out of here I will buy some armor so I can use it if I am ever in an area like this. Man I hate this land. If I can help it I will never come back again. Anyway I do not have any more time I am guessing there are more drow on their way.

Ragnarr: Sitting in the Drow Cell Part 2

I've never really thought that much about magic.

I mean, I know it works. I ask Pelor to grant me some degree of power, and if he trusts me with that power, he gives it to me and lets me know how to call it out when I need it. Sometimes I need it, sometimes I don't.

For Ryan it's a wee bit different. He learns how to tap into some arcane source of power and goes to it. It seems a wee bit more dangerous, less controlled, but it seems to work out alright.

But now we're here. Anything Ryan tries to cast sucks the life out of the area. Things die, turn to dust.

It makes you wonder.

It makes you wonder if every time a wizard casts a spell, the world dies a little. Of course, things are always being born, so for now, at least, it seems, it would be hard for them to suck all of the life out of anything. But I wonder if, perhaps, it would be good for them to consider each spell they cast a wee bit more carefully, just to be sure.

But if arcane magic takes it's power from life, where does mine come from? Pelor, obviously. But if arcane magic takes a little life each time, what does mine do?

It seems to me that, perhaps, each time I cast a spell, Pelor gives a whee bit of himself to help us out. He's a powerful god, so he's got a lot to give, but perhaps it doesn't last forever.

Perhaps that's what happened to the Old Gods. It's not that they faded from memory, it's just that they gave what they could, and when they could give no more they had to stop. At least until they could recover, and could give again.

It makes you think, doesn't it? Pelor isn't just watching, isn't even just helping us. He cares for his own enough that he's willing to give up pieces of himself to heal us.

Musings of Mistera - Prologue

Cypress is getting restless with the daily monotony. I can tell in his wary eyes and the way he grudgingly lays on the cobblestones as I talk to yet another villager about the wonders of garlic. Any other day he would be by himself in the forest, waiting for me while I peddle what small quantity of tinctures I have before going back to him. Sometimes he would even have a small leftover of a kill waiting for me, something to roast over the fire.

Today is different, and Cypress won't leave my side. Instead, the stubborn wolverine sniffs and growls at every person who approaches me. Five villagers back off before I snap at him.

"Cypress, knock it off. Why don't you go off and hunt in the forest? I'm sure you can find a nice rabbit or two."

Cypress looks up and snarls.

"Seriously, what is up with you today? We've only just arrived here and you--"

Flashes of light and echoes of sound bombard my senses.

A female - wielding a bow - animal by her side - calling for help. A fortress - guarded by the black haired ones.

I shake my head, wondering if I've truly gone mad.

No, go to her, Mistera. Answer the call.

I sit down momentarily, catching my breath. Cypress licks my hand and then scampers to the road, looking back to see if I will follow.

It seems he got the same call as I. When the wilds call, I am there to answer.

Giornale di Aurelia

Thank you, Lady Diana!

Finally another female in the group!

We fought our way through the Drow Keep we are in. The little girl, Leaf, is interesting. She seems to make everyone her friend.

Then came an interesting fight. They had I used a lot of arrows, most of which were recoverable. There were guards and magicians and hidden magicians and more guards and lots of fighting.

I actually got hurt! That does not happen often. Bah! I do not like it.

One of the Magicians threw up a stone wall. We got rid of the guys on our side in quick order, and when the wall disappeared, there were dead bodies and a druid on the other side.

Lady Diana sent us a druid!

From the Journal of Hrogar

We've arrived at the temple that we were searching for, and it is defended by Drow. Drow who like to launch poisoned ballista bolts at you. So we tried to get out of the direct line of fire, and in doing so, Ragnarr ended up falling through a trap door and down into a chute. And then for reasons not entirely known to me, everyone else started jumping down the chute after him. Admittedly, I did want to make sure he wasn't injured, but jumping after him wasn't my first idea. But then the only ones left on top were me and Tupper. Me and TUPPER. So I didn't really have any choice at that point. I kicked Tupper down the chute and jumped in after him. There was no way I was going to try to drag his ass through the arrow assault.

Anyway, jumping down the chute ended up not as bad as it might have. We were able to help Ragnarr and no one died. So then we were able to get out of the pit of spiked we'd fallen in, but unfortunately in the process we alerted the Drow to where we were. We made it down to a tunnel, and eventually met some Drow (I did the courteous thing and offered to let them surrender. I know it wasn't likely but now when I have to start killing them they can't say I didn't give them any other options).

So we were lead away and put in a jail cell, but we were able to escape and found a hall with many other trapped entities. We allowed one of them out, a young girl with rocks floating around her, and she's been following us since. I'm not quite sure what to make of her, but we should help her if we can. We eventually made our way to an area which looked like an obvious trap, but with the help of the little girl AND HER ABILITY TO MELT WALLS WITH HER MIND we were able to get past it and meet up with some Drow who were doing paperwork. We fought them, having some trouble wearing down their cleric and mage, but eventually defeated them, with the mage putting up a rock-wall to cover his retreat and leaving his comrades to fend for themselves. Then the little girl made them "her friends" and they stopped seeming to have wills of their own. A strange little girl indeed.

We also met up with another person, someone apparently sent to assist us (or so she claims). Well, the more the merrier.

Day: Sitting the Drow's Dungeon

So, Drow.

Pack of bastards, that lot. Not so much as a "Hello, how are ye' doing" before they start shotting an arseload of poisoned arrows at us. And ballista bolts. Really, are any of us that big, to require such a damn big bolt?

It's not like we've got us the kind of master sniper who could pick off all the bastards. Ryan might be able to make us invisible, sure, if we don't all mind dying. So we do what any proper bunch of Paladins would do: we run.

And we get to the cliffs, and they're still shooting at us, and what do we have to deal with? Stairs! Pelor damned stairs!

So, I made to climb them, get out of the damn arrows. It was kind of relief that I didn't have to climb them, after all. They turned into a chute and I slid down the bastards.

Now, the folks I travel with are a nice lot. Not always so bright, but they mean well. Which, I suppose, is why they decided that it was a good idea to jump down the chute after me. The chute which for no reason would possibly have poisoned spikes at the bottom.

At least I cushioned the fall for a few people. Only the dwarfs got ill from the poison, which only shows that the Drow gods are perverse and unnatural beings. And that they have damn anti-dwarf poison. And that it's not the proper, alcoholic kind.

But we live. The gods must be watching over this bunch, because we live. And we find a way out of the pit, and into some tunnels, where a nasty lizard beast made friends with Tupper. (Really. Friends. With Tupper. I'm telling you, this place is not natural.)

And, of course, we found a Drow patrol. Which Hrogar, who will fit in nicely with this lot, promptly asked to surrender. For some strange reason, sitting inside of their own fortress, heavily armed, with dozens of reinforcements within shouting distance, they said no.

At least no one tried to charge the bastards. Not that it would have done much. Before we knew it, somebody had cast a spell (apparently without dying) and we were safe and sound in this cell. It's a nice change of pace, really: quiet, and no one's immediately going to try and kill us.

It's just that we can't get out, which is a problem.

Though we're working on it. If the gods watch over us, and it seems they do, they'll likely let us out.

If only to put us in front of something worse.

Giornale di Aurelia

Lord Hercules has made it clear in my dreams that I am no where near finished with this business, even if his disciple's soul is recovered. I do not like this. I am surrounded by men. They fight well enough for men, but they are still men.

I do not like this wasteland. I want my mountains, my village, my world back.

Out here I feel too removed from my duties. I was not meant for questing and such! This is a thing for heroes, not Hunters!

I really wish to write more about this. I find though that now is not a good time for a long entry, neither is it a good time because my anger stops my words.

If Hercules were not a god, I would tell him to vaffanculo! Pardon my language, Lady Diana.

From the Journal of Hrogar

We killed a Beholder, and hopefully that was a good thing. Part of me worries that he was rightfully guarding the lower levels from thieves or something like that. Although it's probably more likely he was a guard for someone living down there. Which is perhaps really the more serious possibility, because we didn't do any searching beyond where we found the Beholder. Someone put the Beholder there, and someone summoned the Jinn to the upper level to cause trouble for the nearby town. And we don't know who it is or why they're doing it, and we didn't do anything to stop them. We hopefully slowed them down, but I would have liked to do a bit more searching, but the others wanted to move on quickly.

Sometimes I fear the others want to move too quickly. To focus only on the primary mission at hand, and to Tartarus with the rest of the world. But I feel we need to be balanced in our approach, attacking both the causes as well as the symptoms. If we focus too much on one and not on the other, it will prove disastrous.

Still, we've at least slowed down whoever was attacking the town, so perhaps that's enough. And who knows, maybe after we deal with the Temple we're heading to (assuming we survive) we can head back and finish off whoever is causing trouble for the town.

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 223b-230

Last entry has been revised to occur on Day 223 as a recap of Day 222, as I am stupid.

Oh yes, almost forgot to mention the monstrous beholder that was waiting for us in the secret chamber accessed through the lever. It blinded me and glowered the hells out of the others. Fortunately Ragnar was kind enough to cure me today. As for the desertfolk, they're happy about our 'vanquishing' of the fire djinn and so they gave us a guide to help us find the cliff temple.

Herakles could not add two sums together without demolishing the ledger and declaring victory over rational thought.


Day 224
I have now learned to hate camels. Herakles once bet Atlas the world was flat.


Day 225
Herakles once came upon an anthill. "Strewth," he said, "I must smash it to prove myself in combat." And so he did. When he was finished, a lone ant crawled out of the dirt and asked why Herakles destroyed his home. "Strewth," he said, "I must smash it to prove myself in combat." And so he did.

There is no punchline. I am too tired to be amusing.


Day 226
Herakles once
fuck it.


Day 227
Piles of black ash around the camp. Guide says demons are responsible.


Day 228
More ash. Jittery. Tired.


Day 230
I TRAVEL WITH IDIOTS!

We found the damn cliff temple. The guide abandoned us a ways away from the place, using some preternatural sense that picks up on stupid decisions. As we approached it, we were shot at by ballistas with a paralyzing goop on them. Because a normal ballista bolt wasn't deadly enough. We manage to make it through the enemies' range of fire and get to the inside, where there was a staircase. Ragnar proceeded to run up the staircase before I could check it (understandable in the immediate conditions), and fell down a Goofy Larry chute trap. When I moved to disarm it, Fflam jumped down the chute. Then Chris jumped down the chute. Then Ariella goes down. Before I know it, Hrogar's knocked me down into it as well and followed suit. Because the deadliest part of a Goo chute trap is the chute itself, and not the RAZOR-SHARP SPIKES AT THE BOTTOM OF THEM. Even if there was a bed of hay instead of spikes at the end of it, the sheer force of five other people falling onto you can not be good for your health.

And so, Ragnar and Fflam were poisoned by the spikes at the bottom. Fortunately, no one died this time. After we dusted ourselves off, we found a grate covering a shaft leading downward. It, too, was booby-trapped, as Hrogar found out with his foot. The shaft led to a sewer with gigantic lizards roaming about. Surprisingly, they didn't attack us but they did lick us. The drow we met, however, were less friendly but about as violent. Hrogar asked these armed and wary gentlemen of the underground if they would surrender. After the drow made it very clear that they were not keen on giving up inside their own fortress, they led us to a jail cell and threw us in. I am more than a bit worried that they let us keep all of our equipment, as it likely means that they do not consider it to be useful in escape attempts.

On the off chance that they come around and execute us tomorrow morning: If found, please return this journal intact to Brigadier General A. Stuart, Sable Lions, Point of Origin. Money reward if returned.

Herakles and Pelor once assembled a number of paladins and other do-gooders together as part of a bet. Pelor bet that such a gathering would not die from their own stupidity. Herakles took that bet, and is currently standing to win.

Anti Magic Fields are your friend

Crazy thing happened to us while down in the temple. The fire creature was non other then a creature that Flaam released earlier this year. Needless to say I was not expecting the creature to give him a wish. Flaam wished the creature back to it’s plane. Hopefully that is the last we will see him. So getting rid of the fire creature was the easy part. It only got more interesting from there. The paladins notice that there was an evil presence low the floor. So we started opening some sarcophaguses. In the first one we found a switch. We decided to check the next one to see if it was just a unique switch or if the other sarcophaguses were decoys. Well Tupper and I were asked to open them. Well some of them were others had some very nasty creatures in them.

Well after some hard work we cleared them out. No worse for wear. Then we decided to head down stairs. This is were it got interesting. At the bottom of the stairs was a Beholder. It is safe to say it did not go well. Tupper was blinded right away and not longer Flaam and Ragnarr were put to sleep, o and did I mention there was a cone of anit magic so all our gear was not working. At this moment I decided I had to take a risk, so I moved out of the anti-magic field and used a lightning spell. Well I did not kill it, so it decided I should die. Thankfully it did not succeed. Thanks to everyone else. Anyway we are headed back to the camp. I am hoping the guide did not see anything or I might be in trouble when I set foot into the camp.

Ragnarr: Beholding his Work Against the Undead

Today, we did some good work.

Flamm released an evil spirit that apparently he'd released before, which isn't so good. But the spirit mostly seemed to want to go home, and did, so there's that. I can't help but think that we're going to run into the bastard again.

We fought a beholder, too. Well, I can't say we, so much as everyone else. The damn thing knocked me out. Apparently Chris did a fine job, and managed to use a bastard of a spell without causing too much damage. His mother would be proud of the lad.

Then there were the undead. I can't rightly say that I killed any of the bastards, but Pelor certainly chose to work through me in a damn fine way.

Which makes me wonder how long he's been guiding my path. When I joined the order, became an official cleric and got my name from the seer and all that, I thought he was daft for calling me "Brother Ragnarr". Here I was, looking forward to doing Pelor's work some place with a nice warm bed and a fine supply of ale, and he names me Ragnarr.

I couldn't complain, not really. Everyone's heard about the Citadel of Ragnarr, the Undead Slayer. It just never seemed like a good time.

I mean it sounds, good, sure: shambling hordes of undead coming through the pass, nothing to stop them but a dwarf in the servant of Pelor, with a sigil of the sun in one hand and a rock in the other. But these days it's a great fortress, expanded and kept up by generations of Pelor's servants, summoning up rock walls and spanning the whole bloody pass to keep the undead from the cursed lands away from the civilized side of the mountains. Lads go there to show there mettle, to learn how to dust the bastards with the light of Pelor himself. Hell, I spent a wee bit of time there myself. Somewhere, you can take a crap in walls I summoned.

But that's just it: that crapper took my five days of magic. This poor bastard dwarf had one. His entire blood fortress would have been barely big enough to stand. It would have been days before he could even summon enough rock to build himself a staircase and even do anything about the bastards.

Sure, he could bring food, he could summon water. But where's the liquor? And where did his shit go? How long was he up there, with no beer and no illusionists, before anyone noticed and sent help, or even before the could seal the bastard undead on the other side of the wall?

It's enough to drive a man crazy. The poor bastards that finally found his fortress ought to be glad he didn't have an axe with him, or he might have killed them, too. The stories don't talk about whether he tried to turn the poor bastards, swearing that the light of Pelor would turn their evil selves to dust unless they gave him a proper drink RIGHT SODDING NOW.

And that, that's who the bastard seer named me after.

So where am I now? In the middle of nowhere, far from a proper drink, killing undead.

Pelor, I love you, serve you, and respect you, but you're a bastard.

Giornale di Aurelia

Well. That was an interesting fight. We got out of the city and moved onward.

Thanks to some of Ragnarr's magic, we covered a great distance in a short period of time.

We stopped at what was a nomad tent city sort of place. In exchange for the help we needed, they wanted us to get rid of a djin. It turns out that Fflam had at some point released this djin and was granted a wish.

He wished it away.

Problem solved, right?

Nope! We had to search the whole place. Of course they had to open the coffins. And of course we then had undead and things to fight.

Bah! Bah, I say!

I would much rather go fight the fight we are meant to fight, rather than getting ourselves nearly killed by some fight that is not ours to fight.

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 219-223a

Day 219
Left the city in the form of gaseous clouds. I would like a day where I'm just myself for its duration. I know they exist, I used to live them. We have set up camp at the edge of the desert. May this area be free of gnolls, mastiffs, really anything with teeth or hunger.

Herakles could not pour water out of a sandal.


Day 220
We have found a herd of dwarven desert dwellers and goats. Ragnar as usual acted as ambassador, and we learned of a nearby cave inhabited by a fire djinn. Naturally we want to douse the bugger. A guide will take us there in the morning.

Herakles could not find the sky in the Plane of Air.


Day 221
The guide took his sweet time getting here. We have spent the better part of the day watching the locals make clothes out of goat hair, finding new ways to ward off the heat, and not getting drunk (given that a full third of our party are mountain dwarves, this point has been elaborated upon amongst the rest of us with much zeal). At any rate, the guide is here now and we will finally depart for our nigh-certain doom tomorrow morning.

Herakles once tried wearing pants, but found them to greatly restrict the movement of his arms.


Day 223
Yesterday was another fine and glorious day where my head stayed on my shoulders.

Apparently the fire djinn was the same one we released in Izmir. Apparently it still owed Fflam a wish because of that. Apparently Fflam didn't fully make the connection that the powerful being offering him a wish was EVIL, and so wished it to leave. Not forever, just for now. Still, it's a far better use of a wish than what, say, Alcander would have done with it.

The cave itself is a catacomb of the damned. 10 sarcophaguses, some with corpses, some with powerful undead, some with hordes of insects, one with a lever. Chris and I were on sarcophagus-opening duty, on the basis that everyone else is more useful in combat. I would think the others would want to protect their investment in my continued life, but then again I would think the others had more sense than a barrel of rats. The places and times you find out how wrong you are.

My share of the gold (all legitimately looted) comes to about 633 pieces; paying back Ragnar and Ariella for their kindness is top priority, though keeping some for a new set of picks (as well as the inevitable inn fees, food, and catastrophes) is also important. There are also a cache of jewels to sell off that I have not yet figured into my share. I'm sure my financial troubles will titillate my superiors to no end.

From the Journal of Hrogar

We've since left the area of the besieged city to move on to the temple that is our goal (it being decided that the city had things under control, and that the whole battle may be a diversion from the real threat). So with clerical help from Ragnarr, we have traveled far indeed toward the direction of the temple. We came across a settlement, and with Ragnarr's help were able to barter services dealing with an evil presence for a guide who can take us to the temple (I really must find some kind of magical item that allows me to speak with others who don't speak common).

We went to an old temple (but not the one we're specifically searching for) and inside found a Jinn, one who looked irritatingly familiar. After sending him back to the plane from which he came (although we have no assurances he won't be back, again) we looked for a way to get deeper into the temple (and hopefully find who put the Jinn in there to torment the nearby town). This required looking into a number of old sarcophagi (not that I'm the type to cavalierly open sarcophagi, but sometimes it must be done) and this lead to the destruction of a number of undead, including one fairly powerful one. Most could be defeated easily by Ragnarr, but it was quite a fight to finish off the last one.

However, all is well, the evil is destroyed, and we are now ready to search deeper into the temple. That being said, we must make haste. We do not want to be significantly distracted by this quest, but neither do we want to let evil infect the lands unchecked. We must fight the symptoms in addition to the causes.

Are we still here?

We made good time, Ragnarr had a spell that increased our travel speed. I am not sure how much longer we are going to be in this no magic area, but the day we get out can not come soon enough. Anyways, hopefully we can run into some people so we can get a better idea of were this temple is.

Well we ran into some dwarfs today. Again, thanks to Ragnarr we were able to talk to them. Tongue spell comes in handy. I should look into getting it. Anyways, they are willing to give us a guide the temple, but we must first get rid of a fire creature for them. We will be heading out that way tomorrow. I have a bad feeling this might get rough. Let’s hope I am wrong.