Into the Wilderlands

Session LXVI
XP

8 Font Skeletons: 480 XP apiece + 25 for retrieving Taron’s gear

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Session LXV
15th of Sweetrain

1340 XP

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Session LXIV
Tomb of Abysthor

14th of Sweetrain

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Session LX: A Brighter Dawn? as told by Oisin
Spirit Day, the 10th of Sweetrain, BCCC 4433

In Hindfell, we were asked Uxald, the former owner of the now smoldering Wayfarer’s Inn, for safe passage out of the town. While we were talking, I heard a whisper from Maethe, emanating from a portal. Checking in, he inquired as to the group’s interest in coming to Midwynn to perform a task for him but I was noncommittal and Maethe said he’d check back in three days time.

Soon thereafter, a number of the Grey death attacked the ramparts from the north end of the city. The adventurers assisted the Crimson Keepers in repelling the attack .

A dirty-faced urchin came up to me (after approaching several other members of the party) on the behalf of Redrum, the child-sized wizard we encountered the previous day. Redrum wanted to make amends and was offering a spell book of conjuration.

Lord Garerd summoned us to his tower and spoke to us about missing pilgrims in the Valley of the Shrines and burial hall of Abysthor that might hold a relic that could help end the plague of the Grey Death. We opted to investigate.

We journeyed to the Valley of Shrines, encountering hill dwarves before crossing a bridge . They spoke of being attacked by “insects” and riders that were going to and from the valley. We made camp with the dwarves for the night and Nigel talked to them for information about the Valley.

The dwarves spoke of a sorcerer rumored to be beneath the caves under the burial halls, a teacher of Rune magic, but with a steep cost. They also mentioned Rapan Athuk, the dungeon of graves, located north & west past swamps and forest.

During the night, Kobolds emerged from the Earth’s Scar, neath the bridge, but the party and dwarves repelled the creatures, driving them back down from whence they came.

In the morning, black clad riders, who we identified as Priests of Orcus, approached the camp riding from the direction of the valley. We attacked as they rode by and I struck one with an ice knife spell. The presumed leader turned and vowed they would settle with us later and rode off.

We continued on to the Valley of Shrines. There, across a despoiled lake, we could see a cave mouth on the distant mountainside and two temples, one for Thyr, god of law and justice and the other for a Muir, demigod and patron of Paladins.

Opting to investigate the shrine of Thyr first, we found a desecrated interior.
Written on the plinth of a statue of Thyr in Celestial were the words " As you obey commands of Thyr, so does this figure obey your command" We deduced that prayers of a cleric or paladin would be required.

Spark uttered his spells and, in doing so, moved the statue revealing a stair case underneath. In the room below the statue, there was celestial writing upon three walls.. All were “passwords” that required clerical spells to open hidden doors, behind which, we found numerous scroll cases and vials holding what appeared to be holy water.

Our initial foray into the Valley of Shrines seems to have provided us possible sanctuary and respite.

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LIX: Downtimes in Hindfell as recounted by Oisin
9th day of Sweetrain, BCCC 4433

Traveling from our fight with the wererat, Blood Whisker, at Fairfield, we stopped for respite at Hindfell. The barbaric settlement, on the decline before, looked even worse now.

Upon entering the gates, I came across a “crippled” beggar, Orpheon by name, whom I had met previously and had said that he might be able to assist me in finding some magical items or spells. I gave him a coin and agreed to meet someone later at the Inn. Seeking worthwhile items to purchase and finding none, I went to the Wayfarer’s Inn to rest and wait.

While sitting at the inn I caught a thief (whose name was Rydell) trying to steal something from me at the table. He said he was trying to show off his talents and that, in addition, he was to take us to a location of a man who was selling a spell book. Interest piqued , I asked Quententius and Nigel to accompany me.

Once at the tent, we entered to see a bony man and a child , who shortly left. Looking at the tome, I saw it was mostly water damaged and that its few spells were Necromatic. Disheartened, I told the man that I was not interested. Before I could ask what other things he might possess, two town guards entered. They wanted us to hand over our gold and valuables , saying that they were there to stop the spread of necromancy in the town.

Darkness rapidly descended upon the tent and I sensed a spell taking effect. I tried to exit via the back of the tent but the guards were unaffected by the spell and came after me. Suddenly, a bright light flashed and I was blinded for a short time. I heard Quentenius talking to someone whilst I was blinded. After the effects wore off, I grabbed the book from the man and ran out of the tent to see several guards outside. Quentenius shouted to me that the guards were illusions, so I fled back to the inn.

We surrendered the offending book to the proper authorities and agreed amongst ourselves to leave in the morning. Alas, the lumberjacks, whose camp we’d shared days before and were now residents of the Wayfarers’ Inn, succumbed to the grey death and were met by the might of the Crimson Keepers (the town’s garrison). Managing to talk our way out of being quarantined at the inn, we assisted the guards in putting down the infected. We tried to sleep at the stables, across the way, but at dawn, discovered I, too, had taken ill, apparently the grey death.

Our party has decided to return to the Temple of Spider and Forge to, hopefully, have the priests cure me like they cured Quentenius several days before.

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LVIII: Eye for an Eye
8th day of Sweetrain; BCCC 4433
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Session L as recounted by Quentenius Weatherby III
18th Day of Firebloom

We thought we had found refuge in a Druidic enclave known as Darnegal, but all we found was a community founded on cruelty, selfishness, and denial. I feel somewhat uneasy even calling this place a community because I have not seen any person show concern for anyone other than themselves.

The druids either do not see the moral decay that has permeated every soul within this wretched land or the corruption runs so deep that even they must tread with caution. I pray that it is the latter.

The wealthy merchant families squabble amongst themselves and see each family and person as obstacles or tools for their amusement and prosperity. This place is so fragmented by constant subterfuge, theft, murder, and crime, that I almost feel that an organized thieves’ guild would be preferable to this land of eternal chaos. But I must not give up hope yet. Perhaps we can tip the balance and help the druids make this place hospitable once again. If we fail, I do not know what good will ever befall these people…

Dorrestral, the man we once rescued from gnolls, still remains imprisoned for allegedly murdering his close friend Surovoy . While the druids claim that there is insurmountable evidence of his guilt, I do not see how anyone could believe that a man so brimming with life and laughter could be the miscreant they claim he is. Though we are beginning to discover what truly transpired, we find ourselves more and more at the mercy of scoundrels of all kind and their ilk. Finding Ogre Magi hairs and ichor at the crime scene and after accidentally telling a man named Karn that we thought he was guilty of deceit, destruction, and spreading the plague, we raced to the inn so that we would not be helpless prey in a town that swarms with thieves in the night.

We were not fast enough.

Though we were able to reunite with friends and find new allies, we were ambushed and Oisin nearly killed! Worst yet, Spark, our beloved gnome with the heart of a giant, had not been seen since he took to the streets, searching for his stolen holy symbol and demanding justice and equity in a land that knows neither

We survived though, which is all that one can hope for when everything and everyone is bent on stealing rather than giving and ignoring evil instead of confronting it. That night we interrogated our assailants, but only gathered that Karn could be found at “The Flop”. As Oisin, Farekith, and I prepared to talk to the only eye witness to the crime, we received a package that contained Spark’s bright red mustache and a letter telling us to “stay put”. It seems that someone wished to trade Spark for the ruffian that we interrogated.

But as my companions refuse to let evil have the initiative, we left the inn and spoke to the only one who could clear the name of the falsely accused. Blood was spilled, but as bloodshed should never be glorified, I will only say that the fair lady who found herself in a desperate time and place finally revealed a host of names that implicate Karn and his thugs in the murder of Dorrestral. I would write more, but our recent actions have made us enemies of both the city guards and the criminals they knowingly or unknowingly protect. We must act quickly and decisively to save our friend, the falsely accused, and the city from chaos, suffering, and death. I hope fate has not yet given up on us.

From the journal of Quentenius Weatherby III

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Session XLIX : Murder mystery in Darnegal
as recounted by Oisin on the 17th day of Firebloom

Arriving at the druidic enclave, Darnegal , we took residence at the Dancing Centaur, an inn popular amongst travelers. We broke bread with the trio we rescued , Dorrestral, Survoy & Mariella. Afterwards, Surovoy left with a very attractive (for a human) female and some of our group opted to explore the town by way of the various inns.

Upon waking the following day, Mariella came to us saying the bard Surovoy had been murdered, supposedly, by the cleric of the House of Secrets, Dorrestral. We agreed to investigate as witnessing the two the night before we could not believe Dorrestral would murder his friend.

I purchased nicer clothes in order to be able to make a more positive 1st impression. While in the market, I caught a nasty human thief trying to pick my pockets. I called for the guards after he attempted to start a fight and feigned being hurt by my accusation while clearly showing his disgust of my people by slinging slurs for the elven kind. Having better things to do, I let him leave after making sure my belongings were not taken. Upon meeting my friends I told them of the thief and to check to make sure no one was missing anything. Spark discovered his holy symbol had been taken. Spark was distraught so I helped him attempt to find the thief but, after a little while we stopped the search and attended to other things.

Returning to our inn, we encountered Terasin, the druid for whom we had been looking in order to give to him a green book containing the last will and testament of Feodol, his late friend. He gave us information and a reward for our efforts but not before he an Spark found themselves embroiled in a theological tiff resulting in Spark storming off in a huff. Huffs and tiffs! This was developing to be one kind of night!

As Mariella was no longer welcomed at Dorrestral’s church, we offered her a place to stay. Next, we went to the Golden Goblet to talk to the nobles to see if we could find out any information about Karn.

At the Golden Goblet, we encountered the mysterious Karn himself. After accidentally** revealing who Mariella was and that we were looking to him for answers concerning the plague, we ran back to the inn to regroup and arm ourselves. Meeting my friends we agreed to seek out Karn but noticed Spark was no where to be found…

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Session XLVIII: Over the hills & through the woods...
As recounted by Rossi, on the 16th day of Firebloom, BCCC 4433

On the first day after I parted ways with my caravan, I opted to go south, traversing the Majestic Mountains via a road known, far and wide, as the Emperor’s Way.

The following day I was gladdened to espy a village in the distance and my spirits were lifted by the prospects of ale and a cooked meal. By the gods was I wrong! The people I approached in the field were savage & ill-intentioned as one of them tried to bite me. I tried to flee and was going to die fighting when an arrow appeared in the neck of one of the grey people. A Sylvan man rode to the rescue and offered me his spare horse to escape.

We rode swiftly away and rejoined his motley group of friends who were encamped within a cave some distance away. I gathered that these companions were well traveled and I was fascinated to hear of their journeys . This is what Fharlanghn has called me to do!

We spent the night camping by firelight at the mouth of a cave and rode away in the morning after hearing buzzing noises. The other party members said it was gnolls. We tried to evade them but they stayed in close pursuit despite the fact that Valas, an experienced ranger, tried to mentor us in covering our tracks.

We found a stone house with a strange man standing in front of it. He wasn’t too friendly and left. I wanted to fight there but we went into the woods to lose the pursuers again. We found a crevasse in the earth where it looked as if a giant dwelled. We ran from that too. I’m not sure how brave my companions are. While were getting away, my horse became lame but Fharlanghn granted me the ability to heal it him so that I was able to continue our journey .

We then came upon a stone door set in the hillside. Translated runes indicated it
was the hall of the hill chief. Unable to enter it, we left. We happened upon the Emperor’s Way again and heard a great noise from the distance. I thought it might be a vision but there was a real dragon on the horizon!

After crossing the road, the gnolls caught up to us and I witnessed some true bravery in the battle. Though I am not yet as strong as my companions, I was able to help them defeat the gnolls, which were quite fearsome!

Now it was time for some proper travel without being hounded every step. Finally, we arrived at Darnegal. I don’t know where this path leads but I know it will be a journey worth taking.

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Session XLVII as recounted by Quentenius
15th day of Firebloom

My last thoughts before drifting could not be true, I ruminated. My new friend and ally, Taron, transformed into a cursed, nightmarish creature, stripping him of his reason, and leaving him as a bloodthirsty fiend controlled by nothing but his animalistic passions!

Upon awakening, my friend had disappeared but soon returned with two of our missing comrades. He acted as the friend I once knew, but even he did not deny his horrific transformation into a were-creature.

For some unknown reason, I greeted my friend and accepted him back into our group. I must have been mad! But when I looked around, all of my companions seemed happy to see him once more. My only conclusion is that we must all have lost our minds, to be in denial of what we all saw, or worst yet, I am the only one of my friends who is not a were-creature. Why else would they accept a monster into their midst?

Regrouped once more, we set out to rescue a group of people captured and enslaved by gnolls. Perhaps this is why I refused to believe that my friends were all evil bloodthirsty beasts. They seemed to be risking their lives for others, but I was still wary and uncertain. Perhaps they were luring me into a trap to make me one of their own. I could not abandon those enslaved by the tribe of gnolls and I could not abandon a friend who could need my help. We continued our search for the enslaved, though I thought, I might find nothing but my death.

Soon we discovered the gnoll camp. Feng charged the horde with a rage and hatred of evil that I had never before seen. In fact, all my friends risked their lives for these people even though we didn’t know any of the prisoners. I was relieved and glad that I stayed with my new found friends. How could I abandon such allies who were willing to sacrifice for people they had never met?

The fight was not easy. The size of the horde was greater than any of us anticipated. We were soon overwhelmed and when I saw Fang take a near fatal wound, I thought we were all going to die. I found myself in a moral dilemma. I just put several of their warriors to sleep with a well-cast spell, but I knew that they were just the first wave to strike my comrades. I could either hope that my spell would keep my enemies entranced or I could end them with the sword. Torn as I was, I killed my enemies. I could not risk the lives of my comrades because of my moral objections, especially when it looked like we were going to be overrun and killed.

Eventually, we were victorious, but Taron once again transformed into a were-badger. After the battle had ended, he fled into the wilderness. As my friend risked his life for ours, I must find a way to save my friend before his soul becomes corrupted like the monster that cursed him.

From the journal of
Quentenius Weatherby III

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