Journal of Arcadius

Stranger Allies

We escaped the cavern of the mist as Steinbjorn's wall of force dissipated, and the mist advanced again. However, before this, another of the strange blue-skinned beings appeared. Apparently he is named Rannsdal and is a friend or ally of Rann, who seeks to free her from her control by the Aboleths.

From there, we retreated to the room of the ladder, blockaded the door behind us, ascended from the lowest to the second lowest level, and took time to rest. Alas, the mist crept through, though slowly. The being Rannsdal was able to use his magic to halt its advance. Sztuczka, Walter-Tupper, and myself, having been awake for more than 24 hours, were allowed to sleep through the night while others took watch. At some point, the mysterious snake-man departed via his magic, without our watchers noticing. Strange are the ways of fate.

After our rest, we explored the second lowest level and found a prison hallway. There, we encountered many strange beings - including an invisible thing that claimed it was not there, an Ilithid, a sentient giant tiger, and another snake-man, this one by far more snake than man. It seems he is indeed of the folk told in tales by my people, though he said that the cities in the southern jungles are but outposts of is kind.

I must note that this snake-man radiates evil, and in other times he and I would likely meet as foes. However, and may Pelor judge me if I am wrong, it is my view that he is a foe of the great foe, the Aboleth, and thus is for now at least an ally. He is in service to the gods of his folk, bearing their symbols, and wields their power. I hope to have learned from past lessons that help may come in many strange forms, and we should not be so quick to fight and slay without reason.

We discovered an alchemical lab and what appeared to be a young elf-woman of broken mind and spirit, trapped in a cage. The snake-man examined her and used his magic to calm her, but he warned that she was not exactly what she seemed. Still, we have freed her from the torment of her captivity and that is a good thing, I pray. May the gods illuminate this darkness!

We also found yet one more of the blue-skinned ones, who seem likely to come from another plane of existence. This one, a woman, is mad or cursed in the manner of Rann, and has had the hideous misfortune to have been sent to the Far Realms, losing perhaps her mind in the process. Yet still, she seems at least to have no love for her Aboleth captors.

So thus, in a few minutes, we have released three strange beings from imprisonment, whom we hope will be inclined to help, or at least not hinder, that which must be done. May we have done the right thing!

We still have the Seneschal prisoner, though this is growing more difficult to sustain, since the others have done little more than knock her unconscious again through violent force.

Steinbjorn and the blue-skinned woman have conceived an idea to send the Aboleth in charge of this place to the Far Realms. It would be a just and fitting fate, if it can be done, considering it has sent so many unwilling victims in its place. However, we must move quickly, as time is passing and our foes are not idle.

*A*

Saga of Valdis

I'm very concerned about this place and these people.

I've been on edge since the moment that I almost lost the love of my life to the Seneschal. To think he could fall so easily, on the edge of the afterlife... I have never seen him in such peril before. Charging blindly to slay his attacker, I paid no heed as I charged through a barrier that sapped my arms of their magical strength, rendering them mundane, unblessed by the gods. Steinbjorn tells me that the magic is back now, which is a relief, but I dread to think of what would have happened had it been permanent.

The aboleth is still out of our reach, and our party wanders forth without a clear leader to pave our path towards vanquishing the evil in these halls. The closest we have is Arcadius, but now I am wary of his decisions to release evil and shady characters from imprisonment. I cast concerned eyes at Steinbjorn; he knows how on edge I am with collaborating and releasing such evil or chaotic persons. I would try and discern their motives through my usual learned spells, but I have replaced them this day with poison fighting spells for our anticipated battle against the aboleth.

O' Hel, Dark Lady, what can I do to carve my way towards this Aboleth, so that we may slaughter it in your name and rid this world of such evil? My Lady, guide my sword arm to vanquish my enemies!

And if these decisions to let free these uncertain folks come to bring us harm, Hel, please give me enough foresight so that my husband and I can retreat safely!

Sztuczka's Journal

Huzzah! Everyone made it back okay and then we went into the Keep because that's really all we could do and we fought a gollam and I nearly died and that must be what pain feels like and I could only curl up in a very little ball because I felt like I was going to die and I am not used to pain and should really man-up since, you know, I intend to be useful and then we almost fought 2 mages and apparently when we split up through the non-magic field Arcadius and Azan met their companion and it turns out that they are not from here they are fighting what lives here too and now we're trying to not get controlled by the abolith and I am out of time to write

Journal of Arcadius

Strange Allies

The rest of our party returned without incident, praise be to the northern gods for answering our prayers! However, grave danger remains. We continue to flee the mist and have reentered the keep itself.

There we explored and fought foes. Steinbjorn's magic was of great help throughout, but at last we encountered a barrier that split the party. Steinbjorn led one group downstairs, while the rest of us doubled back.

There, we met a strange personage - a humanoid being we at first thought one of the enemies. He is of a race that mingles the features of humans with some of those of serpents. It recalls to me legends of the jungles south of my homeland, where a race of that sort is said to dwell. The tales of them are not pleasant, but then again, as we've found elsewhere in our quests, the foes of the great foe may be our allies, at least for a time.

So it seems with this one. After brief discussion we agreed our party and his were here for compatible purpose, and resumed exploration together. We investigated a secret door we'd found earlier and, praise the gods, found a way to rejoin our party, who were fortified behind layers of Steinbjorn's magical defenses. It appeared that the mist was bubbling up through a pool in this chamber deep under earth, and the party was unsure of their means of escape. Thankfully we solved that problem.

Now, where next?

*A*

Dantroe

For a moment, after having saved the life of one who was an enemy, I pause. The aboleth is just below in the water, the portal is rippling with what we can only assume are reinforcements called by the wizard, and something appears to be knocking down the other door into this room. But for a brief moment, I am elsewhere.

I am back in the monastery, it is a week or so after the paladins have visited, attacked, apologized, and left. I am in a room meditating with many of the others, as happens most days, but today will prove to be different. Through half-closed eyes I see that I am sitting facing what can only be a celestial being. She did not so much appear in front of me as merely come into existence, with the sense that she had been there all day and I just hadn't noticed. It occurs to me that none of my brother monks are aware of her.

She speaks without moving her lips, making it clear that she is Pistis Sophia, caretaker of Solania, the fourth level of Celestia. She knows of the group that just visited, and how I was impressed by their quest, by the hearts of Arcadius and Ragnarr, shining as brightly as the light of Pelor, and by Fflam, an unconventional but great warrior of Moradin. She says that some day soon, I will be called to join them. Moreover, I can learn some of the methods they use to fight evil.

Then she is gone. The elation I feel at this news almost breaks my meditation. Some time later, I feel the call to leave the monastery and journey into the valley nearby, eventually leading me...

Right here. I know not what is beyond the portal, or breaking down the door, but I know that the Aboleth itself below is trouble enough. I am ready.

What is behind door number 3

I do not have much time to but I figured i better get some of this down. It appears like we might have to fight on several fronts. The party got separated during the fight with the a wizard. To fight the wizard we had to go through an anti magic barrier. At first only the monk and Steinbjorn went though to fight but when Steinbjorn dropped Steinbjorn's wife went running in for vengeance. I also went in, to cure Steinbjorn. After healing Steinbjorn the wizard ran. As I was following i recognized the area. I quickly ran back to the rest of the group and told them to try and find another way around, hopefully one that would not affect our magical items. So back to the chase, I made my way down the grate where I see that the rest of the group had stopped the wizard. What had me concern was the fact that Steinbjorn was standing over her getting ready to kill her. It is one thing to kill in the heat of battle it is another to do it when they are not able to defend themselves. Ah these magic users I am starting to see why they can not be trusted. Anyways we are down here in a protective bubble but the mirror is rippling and I can hear something breaking down doors in the next room over. It is getting closer time to prepare.

Steinbjorn: On The Nature of Magical Items

It is a popular misconception among the magic-wielding classes that the nature of magic is to be used. That magic is, somehow, this massive force that's been placed here for the express purpose of being used, being bent into the will of a caster, and forced out onto the world.

Based on my research, I've come to believe that nothing could be further from the truth. Magic is not meant to be used, but to hold the fabric of life itself together.

Consider: if magic were meant to be used, how does one explain the areas where the magic has been used up, dried out? Where casting a simple spell will lead to the death of all life in that area? It is precisely because more magic was used than the area could afford to use, and that abuse has cost every living thing.

The common argument to this is that magic is a limited resource, that it can dry up. Many wizards claim that, in time, magically depleted areas will heal, get better, then everything will be okay.

This has never been demonstrated. Areas have been wiped out, and none has ever been known to recover. And if it does, it is a long, slow, process, one that takes lifetimes that not even an elf could fathom.

The truth is that magic is a dancing bear. Sure, there are those who tame bears and make them do so, but no one ever called it natural, and there's a fair chance the bear will eat it's owner, sooner or later.

So why cast magic at all? And why, god forbid, would you tie up a great deal of magic into some object, where it will be kept in captivity forever, unable to contribute it's force to the crucial business of sustaining life.

Which is, of course, why I've devoted my life to undoing the magic of others. To return that magic to the world can help insure the world a future long beyond when I am dead, perhaps far beyond the death of my race.

I am, however, not an idiot. Magic is a cannon, and an army with a cannon will blast an army without one. And magical items exist, whether I would prefer it or not. And given, for instance, our present enemy, I would overall prefer that a potent magical item was in the hands of someone like my wife, and not in the hands of some awful, mind controlled fish thing.

For my part, I can wield enough magic to largely get away without carrying around my weight in magic items. I have the advantage of knowing that magic is a dancing bear, and knowing how to piss it off. A magical sword can kill more easily than a mundane one, certainly, but a well-trained Abjurer can make that make that death the sword-wielders own.

Knowing that makes it much harder to believe that carrying magic items is a good idea. If others insist on doing so, if my wife does, I can't stop them. And, to be honest, she can take the pain that may come from some wizard turning her magic against her far better than I can.

For my part, I'll keep the bear at arms length, unless I have a damn good reason to need him.

Sztuczka's Journal

We're on a boat and my robe is useful and the mist is still following us and Arcadius has been praying and it looks like a few gods have answered our prayers and I see things representing Odin and Hel and Angr-Boda! But Tupper is an idiot! There was a lion circling the boat and he actually shot at it even though it was probably a sign from Herakles! I would love for the Gods to honor me in such a way if I proved worthy but he's continually not proving himself worthy of Herakles' praise or aid! Now our weapons are glowing and his are not and I think he pissed of Herakles and I wouldn't want Herakles mad at me and hopefully the others come back soon because we're going to have to go back on land soon which means we are running out of space to run and I hope they don't come back in the middle of the mist and make it to a safe part of the island instead.

Tupper is showing promise

When I think i can not stand him any longer Tupper shows a glimpse of worth. He is a puzzling person, he says that dumbest things at the wrong times. Most of the time he does not help just get in the way but at times who does the right thing. He showed this when Sztuczka went down during the golem fight. Tupper went in and pulled who out of harms way. It is frustrating. It seems like he has the skills just forgets to use them. The question is are these small glimmers of worth, worth dealing with all his fault. Anyways I do not have time to right more. We need to keep pushing deeper and find the abalith.

Steinbjorn: On Being an Agent of Divine Intervention

The relationship between wizards and their gods always has a measure of tension. On the one hand, a wizard is as humanoid as anyone, and contact with a higher power can be welcome and add great meaning to one's life. On the other hand, wizards are, by their nature, a natural rival to the gods, a source of power that grows outside of divine purview and can, in time, challenge even the power of the gods themselves.

I mean this as a general rule, of course. The place of the gods is in heaven, and any man arrogant enough to feel that they should rule alongside the gods is a dangerously unstable example of a magic user and should be neutralized by any means necessary. The sheer number of gods relating to Necromancy should serve as reason enough to Abjurers of rational bent to wake up and strive to a more perfect ability to stop those who would become such a god.

The end result, regardless, is that wizards often see their gods less as someone to be worshiped than an ally, perhaps a superior officer. Useful, yes, but a wizard doesn't necessarily need anything from their god, and therefore has no real reason to swear complete fealty to them and blindly do whatever they ask.

Mind you, that's not to say that your average wizard doesn't do exactly what their god requests, eventually. It's just that most of them are recalcitrant, egotistical whiners until you convince them that what you want them to do is precisely what they wanted to do anyway, and then they will.

Which, I suppose, is how I ended up following the path of Angr-Boda. She's not one of your well known Goddesses, not the sort that has temples and priests and what have you. I don't know that I've ever met a cleric of the giantess, or met anyone who would say they worshiped her primarily. Every now and then, you meet a mother whose children have fallen under a particularly nasty reputation, and then you might find a small shrine, but she's not a very visible deity.

She's not the sort of goddess who appears to you and demands fealty, or makes you turn ill if you refuse. She doesn't find you, you find her, and those of us who follow and serve her do so because we respect what she does. And, when she asks us to do something, we know it is for a purpose that we support: maintaining a balance, doing the things that must be done because they must be, though it may not be popular, and may not be something that you would like to advertise widely.

Mostly, this ends up meaning that I spend most of my time doing the work of other gods whose will needs doing, serving as their miracle at a time when it would be handy. Because, as any cleric will tell you, divine magic is only one sort of miracle. A word of kindness, or even a well placed word of derision, may alter someone's life as surely as destroying the undead or healing someone of plague. And, for a god, it means that they are not required to be everywhere at once, and don't need to spread their attention quite so widely. They can respond to a cry for help by sending myself as an agent, knowing that I will look into the situation and try to do the correct thing, without blindly doing what I'm told.

Which, I think, is why I have been let to travel with Valdis so long. Of the things that fascinate me, one of the most certain is her loyalty, her willingness to do anything asked of her by Hel without a question, without hesitation. To put her fate entirely in the hands of the goddess, and believe that she'll come out okay.

And, so far, she has. Several times only because I have been there, looking at angles to the situation completely left of of Hel's instructions.

Which could be seen as a sign of Hel's shortcomings, save for one thing: Hel is the reason I'm with her in the first place. So while it could be that Hel isn't very wise, it's just as possible (and, in my opinion, more so) that she was so wise that she made sure I would meet Valdis, stay with her, and that I alone could get her out of whatever situations she might find herself in.

And Angr-Boda, for her part, saw in Valdis someone who could help me accomplish the giantesses goals, while doing the same for me.

I may never know. But whatever the answer, I thank them for that gift they gave me, every day that we both remain alive.

Journal of Arcadius

We are on a rowboat - summoned by Sztuczka's magic, slowly rowing ahead of the poison mist constructs, upon tainted water and hemmed in by an unknown but doubtless dangerous mist. We have established that the mist is an Aboleth-style poison that takes away its victim's ability to breathe air , though it does not on its own grant the ability to breathe water. Thus, without intervention by magic or an Aboleth, death is almost certain. Truly they are cruel.

Thankfully, the gods have mercy upon us.

Three northern deities, Odin, Hel, and Angrboda, praise to them, have granted us a blessing of protection, and enchanted our weapons with ghost-touch. Or at least, all of us now but Walter-Tupper. The folly and ingratitude of this creature have crossed all bounds today. Lord Herakles, praise to him, sent his sacred immortal lion to keep watch over us and provide inspiration to Walter-Tupper. And what, what did the fool do? He fired a bolt from his crossbow at it! Thankfully, it bounced harmlessly off its celestial form... but the insult, the sacrilege, the shameful cowardly dishonor! What kind of man, or excuse for a man, is blessed by a god, then spits in his face?

At least for his ingratitude, he was punished with the loss of the blessing upon his weapons. Alas we may together pay a price for their absence in the fight to come. Through his pettiness and cowardice, he endangers us all. Truly, if we live and lest he change, I can no longer in conscience tolerate this worm in our midst.

I am reminded of an ancient curse of my land, which I here adapt.

Shame upon thee and thy deeds Walter-Tupper, o' wretch! When next we come to a crossroads, I shall travel with thee no longer upon the great road.

In the meanwhile, we must row, tirelessly and patiently till we run out of free water, then return to land and plod on a step ahead of the mist, hoping for the return of our friends. I have prayed to the northern gods, Lady Hel in particular, that she and her peers may guide our friends to teleport back to the remaining free ground of the island, and not into the depths of the mist.

May their return be safe, may it be soon.

Praise and honor to thee, o' lord Pelor! May I be worthy of thee!
Praise and thanks to thee, o' lord Odin!
Praise and thanks to thee, o' lady Hel!
Praise and thanks to thee, o' lady Angrboda!
Praise and thanks to thee, o' lord Herakles!

*A*

Hrefna's Calling: Day 261

I cannot believe those idiots.

A quest to save the world. The sort of thing that heroes are made of and that cements your name in the history books, that inspires future generations of paladins and other aspiring heroes. Yet even over a year after they have set out--with the gods themselves taking a hand in their training--they are still acting like a bunch of rookies. I have followed their progress from the beginning, yet they seem to make the same mistakes again and again and again.

It is almost like they do not learn from the deaths of their party members and from their past mistakes. I wonder if this is a unique failing of humans and dwarves, or if it is a sign that adventuring parties generally accomplish their goals more through luck and divine intervention than they do through their own skill and bravery.

First after I last left they evidently--and for some unfathomable reason--get tricked into going on this quest to help one of the Deep Ones. With the item they went to retrieve, the Deep Ones could have amplified their already significant psionic ability with a magical lens, and extended the range of their abilities indefinitely. Not merely planetwide, but to the stars themselves.

In the process of retrieving it they brought out part of the Rod of the Whispered Ones, crafted by the lich Vecna so that he may communicate with his forces, which is now in the hands of a young girl with no moral compunction and limited sanity (how, precisely, did she end up with this group?). She is now out by herself in the ocean, slowly being corrupted by the rod's influence. Thankfully, by the time she is fully corrupted by the rod she will be unable to enter the temple to retrieve the remainder, and I do not believe the gods would have been so foolish as to put *all* of the parts of the rods in one vault, no matter how secure.

Then they manage--through some combination of luck and skill--to take down one of the Deep Ones. This I must give them credit for: it was A teleportation specialist and very difficult to kill, yet they managed to lock it in one place so that it could not escape. That, thankfully, was a mighty and heroic thing and I can only presume that it was the result of having Arcadius back. There are now only 5 deep ones remaining outside of the sunken city, but I fear for what their attempts on the Shaper will look like, especially since it has a Master Abjurer under its control.

Which, on that topic, their botched invasion of the Deep One's keep. They didn't try and scry what they would face. They didn't try to figure out what the situation might look like beyond depending on a few rumors. They just charged on ahead into a series of fights they weren't going to be able to win, and nearly went charging to their deaths.

They managed to escape and survive the night, but have now split the party. At best this is a risky gambit, and the poison constructs following them are going to be too much for the team that remains to fight alone. Hopefully the team that went deep into what is now enemy territory in İzmir will return quickly and safely, but if not I fear for the future survival of the party.

I cannot leave Stone Keep without arousing suspicion and putting my mission here at risk, and even the long-distance scrying is becoming riskier by the day, but maybe I can lend the smallest nudge to help them when night finally falls and the waning moon is out. It won't be much, but I can only pray that it will be enough.

May Odin grant us victory in the battles ahead.

Tupper's Notes and Observations for Day 261

Steinbjorn, Valldis, Hrogar & Dantro have teleported to Izmir for supplies; also Dantro is now a lemming, though may be restored by tonight.

Prisoner from the Keep had his throat slit, likely because of an invisible intruder in the camp last night. Azan said prayers over the body.

Water around camp is boiling, steam is moving up & towards us. Arkadesh figures we should take a zigzag path across the island away from it.

Azan reckons the steam monster to be evil, & lets Stuchka ride on his shoulder so as to watch its slow approach. Small fungus clouds abound.

Attempts to repair a garment vital to comfortable & safe travel are met with scorn, mockery, blows to the head, bodily threats. Nothing new.

The fact is, when faced with a strange & terrifying monster, my first reaction was to seek to mend my damn underpants. That's not cowardice.

Now if I had asked if anyone could clean my underwear, that'd be a different matter. Mayhap that's what they thought I meant? I'll ask Azan.

Azan is not interested in discourse about my undergarments, & while I can't blame him for that, I can blame him for my fresh new head wound.

Stuhcka has written something down over several sheets, & giggles whenever I make to catch a glimpse of it. I have a bad feeling about this.

This damn island has begun to get to me. Why?! Why a gaseous monster? Why would they slay an ally? And why do I not expect any real answers?

Underwear finally wrenched free of its moorings, forcing me to adopt a slight waddle into my strides. Odds of death by Azan approach parity.

Stuckhah is giggling unprovoked now. She would've learned her lesson from the Ballad, wouldn't she? She did learn a lesson from that, right?

I am going to be Tupper the cowardly ghost-fucking panty-wearing Chosen King of All Idiots by the time I get back to civilization, aren't I.

Where the bloody hells of puke and smells are the others? They should've returned hours ago. How long does it take to buy a couple of wands?

Blood lack of sleep and Tupper

I feel my strength leaving me. As I keep walking to avoid a fight with an evil creature. There are only four of us trying to hold the line. The rest of the group have teleported to the city to try and get us some new supplies. Our ability to heal was running low. I only have a few charges left on the healing rod i have. So we decided we should send some people off to get supplies before we go after this abilith.

So after fighting our way through the keep we setup defenses near the shore. At first we thought that magic users from were going to bring the wrath of the sea upon us. Instead they send flying creatures to keep an eye on us. I think they sent the creatures for two reasons. The first to keep an eye on us, the second to prevent us from getting a good nights rests. They succeeded. I only got a few hours of sleep last night I think that is why in the morning when we were attacked by creatures from the sea I was not able to hit the creatures. This almost cost me not only my life but Arcadius. Fortunately we ran them off. Most of the group left at this point, due to one of the alias being turned into a creature we are low on man power. Which brings me to the present.

So I walk have to listen to Tupper complain about his underwear. For his sake I hope i can restrain myself, or next time i throw a spear in his direction I will not miss. It amazes me that someone that has adventured as long as he has and seen what he has could act like he does. He could not save his life if he wanted and has no desire to learn to defend himself. With an attitude like that he should be road sweeper. Yes that might be his calling. No danger in that profession. I would suggest a merchant, but he would be easily intimidated and end up giving all of his item to a kid so that the kid would not hit him. Pelor forgive me, for I am saying some very mean things but how can I not. He has been chosen by a god. Given gifts from them. How could one turn them down. You take for example Arcadius. He has embarrassed the gifts Pelor has given him and you can see how much it has helped in his fitting and other aspects of his life. But my mind wanders, I need to keep sharp because as i become more tired I will become more vulnerable and we might loose our foot hold.

Hopefully the rest of the group is hurrying, I am not sure how much longer we can avoid another fight.

Steinbjorn: On the Strategic Deficiencies of Teleportation

Of all the schools of magic, it is arguable that none is more versatile than Conjuration. I would argue, in fact, that none is more versatile both in its ability to be very useful and it's ability to cause a massive amount of trouble.

On the one hand, it is nice to be able to, say, summon a wall of stone or iron between yourself and someone who would like to see you dead. It's nice to be under the protection of magical armor that doesn't get in the way of my casting. It's nice to be able to sling acid at things unaffected by magic, and see them actually harmed.

It's less nice to find one's self in debt to a vast, inter-planar criminal organization, desperately trying to spend your entire life paying a planar lord off for one minor service performed by a minor functionary of theirs, which was done in a half-assed fashion and didn't really accomplish what you wanted in the first place. Sure, there are conjurers who swear that they've made friends with extra-planar beings, but the whole thing just seems a bit dangerous.

But it's hard to write off the entire school of magic as being problematic, because of the bits that are so damn useful. It is not uncommon, however, to discover that even those useful bits can be extremely problematic.

Consider, for instance, teleportation.

On paper, a Greater Teleportation seems like a fine thing: think of a place, any place, anywhere on this plane of existence, and picture it clearly in your mind. Hold hands with a few closest friends, say a few words, blink, and you're there. Great, right?

Unless you happen to be fighting a vast, global conspiracy that's attempting to take over the world, and you find yourself teleported to a formerly friendly city that is now run by those very enemies you went to that city to avoid. And the friends you've brought with you are paladins, who couldn't lie if someone found them suspicious and questioned them, and one of them is my wife, so I can't even strongly recommend that she stay in the inn and not talk to anyone. And, should anyone get suspicious, it will be three against an entire city full of enemies, and if that happens the best that can be done is teleport back to a tiny, island where we will be under attack constantly until we either runaway, find someplace else to resupply, or die.

On a boat, we at least would not have been inside the city when we found all this out. Also, we could have taken everyone, and not just most.

Though, to be fair, if it weren't for the Enchantment school and it's psionic equivalent, we wouldn't be having this problem at all.

Untitled Play: Act 1, scene 1

(An island. Desolate. A keep sits on the high ground. A small party is on the beach.)

Steinbjorn: We must away to fetch components and magical things of healing!

Hrogar: I shall accompany thee and barter!

Valdis: Thou shall not go without me, husband!

Arcadius: Take the lemming!

Dantro: Squeak! Squeak!

(Steinbjorn, Hrogar, Valdis and Dantro exit stage left)

Tupper: Havest any of you the powers of mending?

Arcadius and Sztuczka: Aye!

Tupper: My underclothes do have a tear in them, wouldst thou mind?

Azan: Thou art worried o’er unmentionables at a time like this?!

Tupper: Tis the one thing I can fix. If we worry about the big things when tis the small things we can fix?

Sztuczka: Why worry about the small thing when tis the big things that can killest thou?

Arcadius: Thou hast more to worry about than undergarments, Sir. Thou needest to learn to be a man. Thou needest to hone thy fighting skills. Thou needest to keep watch for things that might eat us!

Sztuczka: (looking off stage) Hark! The sea! It boils! A fine mist shall set upon us if we do not move!

Azan: Forward ho! Let us walk the island!

Arcadius: Yes! Let us walk back and forth, slightly changing paths so that we do not cross this mist, for who knows what fate shall befall us if we do.

Sztuczka:
And thus they walked the day away,
The three brave souls and coward.
The mist behind, but did not catch
The three brave souls and coward.
They reached the point of great fatigue,
Thus they made their final stand.

Journal of Arcadius

(hastily scrawled note)

Curses upon Walter-Tup'r!

Here we are on this barren island, having just fought a pack of hellish creatures from the planes beyond, half the party teleported away to fetch healing magic, currently being slowly pursued by an evil supernatural mist...

And WHAT does this miserable wretched excuse for a man see as his highest priority at the moment?

Mending his underwear.

Azan threatened the wretch and threw his spear at him as a warning.

I am so tempted...

I...

I must focus my thoughts.

May Pelor give me strength and patience to forgive.

For it is much needed at this time.

*A*

Sztuczka's Journal

I don't like Iron Gollums and I couldn't do too much against it so I did what I could but it didn't feel like enough and I just need to remind myself that I am not made for heavy fighting and doing what I can is usually more than Tupper does and I decided to play with my bag of tricks even though the boar didn't do much damage and I got injured helping the Monk get back on his feet and Steinbjorn turned the tunnel into sand and the caster was the Seneschal and she got away via teleportation of some sort and now we're gonna rest over-night because we've exhausted ourselves and if we don't we won't survive this place and hopefully we all survive this place it seems to be cursed for our group and blah!

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 258-260

Where the hells to begin.

Events of Day 258
Mistera returned, wolverine in tow, only to storm off later in the day for some inexplicable reason. We were informed of two temples by our 'hosts': one with a special kind of kelp that the Seneschal needs, one with an aboleth in residence, and both with a chance of holding the final piece of the Staff of Ehlonna. They then created a portal to the first underwater temple which would only last 3-4 days. Once there, Nogori absconded with a relic of dubious morality and is never seen again. The temple consists of shrines to Pelor, Moradin, Odin, and Herakles. There are also locked and warded chests containing the parts of something that probably should not be reconstructed. Also there is a shark made of crystal. It did not eat us. It appears that the temple was not always underwater, or that it once had protection against its environment. It also appears that each shrine is part of a larger locking mechanism, where each is disengaged by following the rituals of their respective gods. For reasons of security I will not go into detail.

At some point in the day we found Arkadhesh. Later on, we also encountered a non-sea elf called Steinborn, who told us his wife had been taken over by a nearby aboleth. The resulting rush to heroics left myself alone to watch over the situation at the temple until they returned shortly thereafter on account of foul currents. Apparently he and his missus were sent by Odin to find us.

After some tribulations, we successfully recovered a sample of the requested kelp. We also came to the shocking and startling conclusion that our employers might not be entirely on the level. I blame this sudden burst of intelligence on the absence of Nogori. Camp is made in the Pelor shrine at the behest of Azan, as sun gods tend to be warm.

Events of Day 259
The attack on the aboleth's fortifications went off with a minimum of hitches. The guards downed, the aboleth dead, and Steinborn's wife Valldis rescued alive and intact. Inside the creature's inner sanctum is a hidden and warded passageway, which is later revealed to lead to a ruined laboratory with a broken obsidian gateway and the fingerless corpse of a wizard. A warded notebook is found, but not disarmed.

Events of Day 260
The attack on the keep… could have gone better. During one fight, Herakles decided to 'help' me by sending me into a frothing, screaming rage. This accomplished nothing save for causing a ruckus. No foes felled, no blood let, no glorious headsmashing victory won by the "Chosen of Herakles."

Fortunately we are all still alive, though I for one am feeling sore and exhausted. Were I to mention my condition to the others, I have little doubt I would be called a coward or an idiot or both; or perhaps an embarrassing and catchy tune would be written about it. I am underappreciated, pressured beyond reason, and miserable; and now I find myself trying to sleep within line of sight of the very place from which we fought to escape.

Oh yes, and my underwear has began to disintegrate.

Running Low Time and Healing

We are running low on healing spells. I only have a few more charges on the healing wand. Due to this we are going to bunker down and try to survive through the night. We have to do this because we will not be able to kill the evil in this place. There is light in all this darkness. The group is working together like they should. Even Tupper is putting an effort. Anyway i do not have anymore time to waste. Time get to back on guard.

Steinbjorn: On Golems

Consider the iron golem.

On the one hand, you have a magical creation whose usefulness is hard to overstate. They are large, strong, never tire, are resistant to wear, tear, and other damaging influences, and can operate in the most magically toxic areas without worry. If you lived in a city, particularly the kind with poorly thought out construction practices, you could have no better neighbor than a man with an iron golem. If your house burned down, the golem could dig tirelessly through the rubble, seeking to dig out your children, stash of gold, pet dog or what have you. If you lived in a magically active area, it could wade into a magical vortex to fish out your wife without concern. If the local mine was collapsing, the golem could hold it up for as long as it took for the miners to shore up the thing.

Around the house, of course, they can perform all manner of menial tasks, again using their inhuman strength and tireless obedience. And they can defend your home better than the most fearsome guard dog, and without all the irritating clean up.

And yet, there is hardly a fool in the world who would look at his neighbor building golems and think "oh, good." Why is that?

Because, quite simply, a golem becomes an unstated threat. An iron golem could be useful, yes, but it could also single-handedly demolish an infantry regiment. The average military is simply not set up to deal with a golem. They haven't got a storehouse of adamantine blades, and the sort of mage that joins the military is probably the sort that thinks in terms of evocation, rather than more elegant magic. A golem, therefore, carries with it a second potential, aimed at the rightful rulers of wherever the thing happens to be built; you may rule this place, but I can demolish you whenever I like.

And then, of course, the golem's creator passes on, and you have a new host of problems.

Which raises the question: given that a golem carries with it so much possible threat, is it a proper use of magic?

I think not. Unfortunately, it's not the kind of improper use of magic I was prepared to deal with today.

But there is one less golem in this world, and that can only better, in the long term.

Sztuczka's Journal

Yay! We acquired Steinbjorn's wife, Valdis! and we explored the temple more and we're waiting on a lot of things until we heal a bit and spells and things and then it's gonna be back to the keep and we're going in "peace" but expecting a fight and it kinda has knots in my tummy and...

--

that was a waste of good tactics and tupper actually knows how to do helpful stuff and i am not necessarily more helpful than him in combat which is a good thing since fighting is relatively new to me and my babcia would be rolling over in her grave if her spirit knew that i actually wield steel and not just my violin because my family is such a peaceful lot but my Da knows and he thinks it is great because I am doing what makes me most useful and thinks there is nothing wrong with doing something to earn other folks' respect and as a gnome it is hard to do that and he is proud of me and i miss my Da and I hope my Ma and Babcia are happy wherever they are and gorramit now I need to stop thinkin before I start crying... cannot let the group see me cry. Cannot. Will not.

Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 260 Supplemental

HERAKLES I KNOW YOU CAN READ THIS
The dreams and visions were one thing, but now you are forcing my hand. Now you have actively interfered with my duties. Here is a task for you, Herakles. Go to St. Cuthbert. Ask him if he's alright with sending one of his followers into a screaming frothing rage during a mission of infiltration and tactics. I would like to hear his opinion on your deeds to date. I know I am probably not his best follower but I try. By the Cudgel I try. And in the meantime know this: I have not converted to your beliefs, I will not worship you, and all this has proven is that YOU ARE GETTING IN MY WAY. Just leave me alone, just me. It's all I ask.

Tomorrow will interesting

After investing the temple we came across a hidden hallway. In the hallway there was a magical barrier. We will look into what is behind this barrier tomorrow when we have the spells for it. After doing that we will be heading back through the portal. We are running out of time and the portal might close if we do not go tomorrow. At least tomorrow Pelor will allow me to heal the affect that has drained the energy from me when we went through the protective bubble.
........
Just finished discussing strategy for tomorrows battle. It is reassuring to see the group pull together and think ahead for the next battle versus just rushing in. We have come up we a decent plan that will make the battle possible tomorrow, versus just winning by luck. Anyways tomorrow is going to be very interesting. It will be a good test.

Steinbjorn, Day 2.5

Angr-Boda, give me patience. Allow me to overcome my instincts once when necessary, that I can keep from doing things like that.

If we hadn't been scryed, it would have been correct: stop the enemy from raising the alarm, protect us, even if it means the death of one who might only be mind controlled. The mission is greater than his life.

But we had been scryed. I feared I just wasted valuable magic, as well as the life of a potential ally, for nothing.

I must learn patience, though it takes me another hundred years.

More later. I must return to the fray.

Steinbjorn, Day 2

Good news abounds. The aboleth is dead, Valdis is recovered and appears to be in her correct mind again, and even the monk has reasonably recovered.

Sadly, a proper thanksgiving for Valdis's return will have to wait, as we have more enemies to face tomorrow, and that means preparing for the coming battle. It is not the first time the duty of one of us or the other has meant putting off each other, and I imagine it won't be the last. Such is the nature of serving Hel, and the gods know that I married Hel right alongside Valdis, and never had any illusions otherwise. Angr-Boda, for her part, asks less often. When she does, though, ignoring her is never an option.

I'm pleased to say that this new group that the gods sent us here to find seems to be reasonably competent. They fought well. There were a handful of questionable tactical decisions, such as Tupper's refusal to fire his weapon for a bit, and of coure the monk's leaving the bubble to fight a wizard. That second, I think, is at least understandable; he thought it would be a quick fight, that he could take care of a potential threat easily. I suppose he could not have foreseen that it would become the ordeal which it was.

There is one thing which concerns me, which is the surprise which my companions seem to have in regards to their level of competence. Things so simple as their forming a shield wall to protect myself and the bard seem to cause them a concerning amount of surprise, and a question as simple as "who is your leader in battle?" led to a great deal of discussion.

I wonder that their gods have been allowing them to get away with this.

I also wonder, for a group that is here almost entirely at the behest of their gods, what Tupper's motives are. The god which wants him here is one which he flings insults at, ignores his dictums, and he insists that this god is stalking him and the Tupper wants nothing to do with him.

But if he reviles this god so, what then are his motives? This is not the sort of quest one takes for material reward. It's not the sort of thing one undertakes to be safe, or to stay out of battle, or anything else. This is war, and it's war that we can only win with the full support of our gods. But if we do not support our gods, how can we expect their support?

I wonder that he might be some sort of foul trick from our enemies, a supposed "ally" put here to try and separate us from the loyalty of our god, to pretend competence only as often as is needed to keep the others from sending him home, while trying to tear apart this group with useless bickering.

Consider: tomorrow we will travel through the portal back to the other aboleth, the golems, etc. We do not believe that this aboleth knows that we're coming after him. Travelling through the portal, one of two things will occur: either we will surprise them and catch them unawares, or they will spring a trap on us, for which we will be mentally and magically prepared.

Instead of this, he tried to convince us that we should go somewhere else, follow a thin thread which might lead us to another way back to the island, and therefor make certain that this Seneschal person knows we're coming and is ready for our attack. It is, at best, a nitpick of an argument: do we take one portal which they expect us to come through, or another? (For to believe that they can't anticipate any teleportation of ours would be foolish.)

At worst, it's the most devious kind of trap, the kind that looks like helping, like discussion, while halting useful discussion and driving the part apart.

I will have to keep an eye on him. This is precisely the sort of threat which Paladins have issues with, as they cannot ever truly say that they've been attacked, that he's a worthy enemy.

Which is why those such as them need those such as I. Because keeping Paladins alive, sometimes, requires acts which they could not condone.

My eyes will be open.