The scent of fried dough and the sizzle of bacon had already raised everyone’s spirits. “But just wait until you try these eggs,” said Savu Bari, seeming to delight in entertaining his guests. “Should a dragon swoop down tomorrow and blast your ass to Daystar, at least you’ll have tasted omlettic perfection.”
Far less effort would well have
sufficed, of course—for the crew that awakened in Bari’s spare rooms that
morning bore the soreness of hard travel, the scars of personal combat, and the
weariness of lost companions. But to their host, this was no reason not to eat
well, or to make up words. “Omlettic,” he muttered aloud. “I like that.”
Even so, the farm-fresh offerings
of the Mistwood Fields kitchen did not distract from the work at hand. Bari had
already deciphered a ream of divine spells on the scroll left in the snake
cultist Zarthan Tiga’s grave. Now the enchanter Tristan Pureheart, invoked his read
magic incantation first to scribe a new spell, affect normal fires,
into his personal tome, and then to discern the trigger word “gravulus” from a
wooden snake caving found under Banipal’s altar to Salomirak.
But there was more. Scanning the
first line of mystical glyphs carved into the dark sword Tiga had known as
“blackfang,” Tristan produced three words: ‘’bizou dan fon.”
“That’s highlander,” Bari called out.
“It is,” Tristan confirmed. “In
the Ecbano tongue of the highlands, it means ‘jewel of the deep.’” And then, flipping
the sword on its axis, continued. “Here is the mark of its creator, “Oqor of
Samant.”
Finally, the enchanter turned his
attention to the other weapon the company had pulled from deep within the Rock
Marsh—a runed cudgel that several of its members had already swung in battle.
By now the party had observed how its runes emitted a light blue glow in the
presence of undead, and enhanced the wielder’s capacity against such creatures.
From Tristan’s examination, it seemed there was little more to know—though he
did locate the glyph of Lord Rurai on the cudgel, whom the enchanter described
recognizing from his dreams.
“From your dreams, mage?” the
dwarven warrior Jadearch reacted, nearly choking on a bite of ham. “I don’t
know that we can trust your dreams.” With that, the dwarf retrieved two pieces
of scrap leather and wrapped the weapons “so as not to draw too much attention
in Larkingwood,” and prepared his bag for the road. “But I suppose the enchanter’s
dreams is the best we have for now.”
The group set out for Larkingwood
at mid-morning, and within just a few minutes caught sight of an empty farm
wagon coming up behind them, pulled by a pair of oxen. The party hailed the
driver, an armored dwarf who smelled distinctly of whiskey, and he invited them
to ride into town. It soon emerged that the dwarf, whose name was Turgo,
happened to the brother of Duri, innkeeper at the Blue Bear in town.
“I try not to embarrass him too
much,” Turgo joked. “Though that can be hard to do when you’re as much a slave
to the spirits as I am.”
Indeed, on climbing into the farm wagon the company found it remarkably clean—with the wood still damp from a recent washing. Whether this had anything to do with Turgo’s apparently constant state of intoxication was not clear. But Turgo did explain the wagon belonged to the elderly and notably antisocial farmer Arets Vitor of the nearby Whiteflower Farms. Vitor had engaged the dwarf to drive the cart into town on periodic supply runs since, as Turgo put it, “the old man obviously can’t send his pine gollins.”
“’Course it’s not really the
drinking that bother him,” Turgo continued, referencing his brother. Turgo went
on to describe Duri’s disapproval that Turgo worked as a "man-at-arms"
(or “mercenary,” as Duri insisted on calling it), and thought he should “stand
for something beyond just gold.”
Anyway Turgo seemed to offer
something of an endorsement of Vitor, however tepid. The dwarf clearly
appreciated the compensation, not to mention the opportunity at a safer means
of support than going inebriated into battle. And, Turgo added, Vitor was
perhaps the only local farmer willing to hire the “pine gollins” who had
increasingly come north in recent seasons to seek work on the outlying farms—a migration
Turgo attributed to the closure some time ago of a coal mine where many pine
goblins had toiled.
Though the arrows found their
marks, these beasts withstood blows that would have dispatched common
bloodmartens many times over. Within seconds, the beasts fell upon the company
and made the peril even more apparent when the first to arrive slashed its claw
viciously into Jadearch, a withering strike that left him severely weakened.
As the scene descended into
furious melee, nearby farmers stood on distant hillsides to watch—with most
turning quickly away and fleeing to safety. Yet one remained: a tall, unkempt
man in an orange-red kimono, with
stringy long hair and a tan walking stick, who stood upon a hilltop to the
south.
Vagar wounded another beast with
a bowshot, then blasted one with a magic missile. Tristan invoked his sleep
spell to incapacitate three more, then followed with a color spray to
stun two more. Meanwhile Jadearch battled them in the front lines, fighting fiercely
but soon reeling under multiple ferocious blows. On his right flank, another violent
strike had knocked the party’s only cleric, Rhukk, unconscious. Though Turgo
was able to staunch the cleric’s wounds, the outcome dangled in significant
doubt—not only for Rhukk, but potentially the entire group.
“What are these creatures?” Turgo
wondered aloud. “They are not native to this region.”
Whatever the beasts were, or wherever they came from, proved less of a concern to Jadearch than thrusting the point of the sword Blackfang deep into one remaining beast, stilling the foe at last. Tristan then called upon yet another of his newfound incantations, one he called levitate, to hurl another beast directly into the air. The creature howled with anger, helpless as it rose, until at last the spell broke—and dropped the being from more than twelve meters high. Already weakened from Vagar’s arrows, the creature plummeted the full distance and slumped instantly dead upon impact.
On seeing the party’s narrow
escape, the man in the kimono on the hilltop to the south turned, shook his
head, and walked away. Meanwhile the bloodied and shaken party members loaded Rhukk
and one of the fallen beasts onto the farm wagon and continued apace to
Larkingwood. On arrival, Turgo dropped them before the Temple of Vitiniba,
where they were greeted by the familiar sunmother, Thalquira Kitara. As she led
them inside, Turgo pulled the reins and continued on to the Blue Bear Inn.
The next morning, the party
encountered a solitary traveler, Tongba Yuk, sipping tea in the reception area
of the Blue Bear. Yuk appeared to have been waiting there for Vagar, and
related an elaborate tale about his dealings with a high daimyo of Daystar
called Dolquer Pasang. Whereas Yuk had been a humble warrior in lifelong
service to the Ta Dynasty, Pasang was vain and pretentious—even dressing in an
ostentatious purple kimono.
Yuk told the story of how Pasang had Yuk
ostracized over a refusal to assist a mining company in subjugating indigenous
Lakemen and excavating their sacred mountain. “In times past, I would likely
have stayed behind to clear my name,” Yuk stated. “But there is no reason in
Daystar now. No mercy. No humanity.” He went on to explain that for him, having
had no family, the decision to leave Daystar was not difficult once he came to
view the Ta Dynasty as increasingly cruel and corrupt. “Now, I am but a
wanderer,” Tuk added. “A ronin, as they say in Daystar. A samurai with no
master. I once despised those who went by that name. Now, I embrace it.”
Though the relevance of his tale
was not immediately apparent, Yuk soon tied his points together. First, that Daystar
posed a mounting threat to the elves of the Chalmwood—especially as the
merciless Dolquer Pasang and his so-called “Dawnseeker” movement gained
influence in the House of Ta. Second, that Vagar too might fairly be considered
“ronin“— even if that term would not be used in the Chalmwood. And third, his
belief that Vagar would someday cross paths with Pasang—and ought well to know
of the latter’s cunning and
mercilessness.
How Yuk came to know any of this
information, he did not say. But on finishing his tea and completing his tale,
Yuk took his leave.
The drama of his exit did not
endure long. “He’ll be back,” Duri interjected, adding that Yuk had stayed several
days at the Blue Bear and had not yet terminated his reservation. The company
then briefly visited with Turgo and recounted the previous day's battles. The
dwarf remained befuddled by the attack, stating he did not recognize the beasts
they fought and had no idea where they came from—and insisted they were not
native to the region.
Turgo soon finished his bland porridge, and, citing relentless hangover, returned to his room before the company could ask him to transport the (now rapidly-deteriorating) slain beast remains they had loaded onto the farm wagon to the Larkingwood Guardhouse in hopes of some identification—if not recognition. Rather than disturb his brother, Duri recommended the party simply borrow the wagon—a suggestion they promptly followed.
Varan acknowledged the “bleak dog”
attack raised a concern, but admitted it came to nothing more than still
another bullet on his already long list. When the company reported their
success in the Rock Marsh, Varan expressed disbelief at first—which turned
slowly to pleased astonishment as the story grew increasingly credible with
further details the company provided. At last convinced, Varan thanked the
party and ordered a pair of his men to dispose of the beast’s remains.
Varan also suggested the company might
further occupy themselves by investigating any of multiple strange matters Varan
did not feel his troops were equipped for. One of these matters the party already
knew. The town elder Arjen Per had recently been pressuring Varan to do something
about “some woodcarver" who, Per claimed, is "robbing the Lady Kitto
blind." The second was new. Varan stated he’d received a recent visit from
the widow of a fallen town guardsman, and that the widow claimed to have bought
at a recent merchant's fair the very same wedding band her husband was wearing
when buried. Varan, who as much as admitted being overwhelmed and preoccupied,
seemed to welcome any assistance with the party could offer in these
matters--though said nothing of any rewards or other compensation.
Making no promises other than to
think about Varan’s request, the party prepared to move out. Yet Vagar had one
final question. “If a high daimyo of Daystar were to pass through Larkingwood,”
he asked, “where would he stay?”
“No question about that,” Varan swiftly
replied. “The Paragon Hotel. It’s far and away the nicest in town.”
Adventure Notes
- Ecbano. Though limited mostly to highlanders in the present, the ancient language Ecbano was once the most widely-spoken language in Sekara Valley. But this began to change with the coming of the Vulcan Age and the loss of Samant—probably the greatest concentration of Ecbano speakers the world has ever known. Though the language lives on mostly in the homes of aging plainsmen, for several generations now even the highlanders of Sekara Valley have primarily spoken the common tongue Sekaran—with many learning little or no Ecabano at all. Though Ecbano influence lingers even in the highlanders’ unique form of “High Sekaran”—only slightly distinct from the much more common Low Sekaran spoken across the rest of the Valley—today few Ecbano speakers can be found outside the multi-generational clan settlements embedded deep in the western and southern mountain rims.
- Samant. Once the greatest city in Sekara Valley, Samant’s sudden destruction
from mudslides triggered by the simultaneous eruptions of the Valley’s two
stratovolcanoes, Mt. Alerath and Mt. Graje, ushered in the Vulcan Age many
generations ago. Since then, the idea that great wealth rests intact at the
bottom once-great temples and fortresses long buried in volcanic mud has never
failed to capture the imagination. Hence “the wealth of Samant” an oft-employed
idiom throughout the Valley even today (e.g., “I wouldn’t trade you for the wealth
of Samant” is a cliched expression of fondness, while “I wouldn’t do that for
the wealth of Samant” is a common expression of disgust).
- Bleak Dogs. The blink dog is a highly intelligent wild canine species with an uncanny ability to briefly teleport, or “blink,” between short distances. They tend to be friendly and good-natured. The bleak dog is…not that. So far as you can tell, the bleak dog is some unnatural version of a wolf: vicious, powerful, and inclined to travel in packs.
Bleak Dog (4+1 HD)
STR: 16, INT: 3, WIS: 4, CON: 16, DEX: 16, CHA: 4
Hit Points: ~20 THAC0: 15 AC: 5 MV: 18 Attack: d12+1 (claw or bite)
- The Ta Dynasty. Soslan Ta, Chief of the Eastern Watch, was revered almost as a god among men. Ta rose from the ranks of the lowest workshop laborers to become a legendary swordsman and the longest-lived Sentinel of the Last Age. And adherent of Ostlyn, Ta is said to have embodied her virtues of discipline, vigilance, and humility as well as any who have ever lived. But the Last Age ended with Ta’s death, now 16 years ago—and to make matters worse, Ta did not leave a clear heir or undisputed successor. Into the power vacuum have rushed many who claim, with varying degrees of truth, to be descendants of Ta himself, or of Ta’s relatives. Other, such as those atop the hawkish “Dawnseekers,” simply claim the mantel of Eastern Watch through no bloodline whatsoever.
Experience & Inspiration
- The party defeated seven bleak dogs in battle this session, good for 2,205 XP.
- The company learned valuable information about a range of topics, including:
- The characteristics and powers of multiple magic items, 80 XP
- The probable nature and origins of the glitter shade, 50 XP
- The history of the Rock Marsh and its corruption by Asorin Itall, 50 XP
- Lord Rurai and the Champions of Awar, 30 XP
- Dolquer Pasang and the Dawnseekers faction of Daystar, 75 XP
- The party had successful interactions with multiple NPCs in this session, including:
- Turgo, 75 XP
- Thalquira Kitara, 25 XP
- Duri, 25 XP
- Tongba Yuk, 100 XP
- Artum Varan, 40 XP
Session 11 total: 2,755 XP
The total 2,755 XP award from the
session will be divided into 4 shares, which comes out to 688.75 XP per share.
This will be rounded up to 690 XP per share, and distributed evenly to
Jadearch, Tristan Pureheart, Vagar, and Rhukk.
In addition, Jadearch is awarded
an inspiration point for surviving 43 points of damage in just three hits from
marauding bleak dogs. I be like dang.
Final Session 11 XP awards:
- Jadearch: 690 XP + 1 inspiration point
- Tristan Pureheart: 690 XP
- Vagar: 690 XP
- Rhukk: 690 XP
