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.