It is with no small amount of trepidation that I approached the gathering recently held at the end of the month of October in Whitestaff. As I have mentioned to a number of people recently, I have begun to feel that I have been too long pressing my luck, and I have begun to get a nagging feeling that I was due for some misfortune soon. The signs and portents leading up to the gathering did nothing to easy my sense of unease. The Fae trees were full of messages about dragons walking the countryside and spirits seeking their bones. The very trees themselves were acting in an uncharacteristic manner, and the mist that had lately been covering them now extended throughout the town.
Nonetheless, one cannot hide from fate forever, and there was much unfinished
business to take care of. I had a chance meeting in BraughmRaor a few days prior
to the gathering wherein I ran into Baron Zug, Cedric Warclaw and Elenril Elintari
as they met to discuss the various mysteries and circumstances that currently
faced us. Though I had not been invited to the discussion, I was neither asked
to leave, and in listening to their talk I learned a great many things that
answered many of the questions I had concerning previous events. Armed with
a rudimentary understanding of the lay of the land, I figured I would do just
as well in Whitestaff as anywhere else.
The next situation I found myself in also occurred before the formal opening
of the gathering. I had a few matters of personal business to attend to on the
trip to Whitestaff, and one of them took me to a rural area slightly to the
southwest of Whitestaff near the river. While I was out on the evening before
the gathering the wind brought to me the sounds of a moaning voice. I was able
to make out something about bones. I followed the sound to the opening of an
abandoned mineshaft. Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided that
this would be a matter best explored in the company of stout companions. I marked
the spot, and continued on my way to Whitestaff.
When I arrived I found things much as they were described on the Fae trees.
The town was enveloped in an eerie fog and mist. Someone had carved up pumpkins
into strange faces, lit them from within, and spread them about willy nilly
throughout the town. Morbidus’ crypt lay as it always has, only this time
there was no protective circle around it.
The weather was quite cold. I very nearly left my gloves and hat behind, and
I was extremely grateful that I thought to grab them at the last minute. I got
my things settled into one of the cabins that contained a fireplace and made
my way over to the tavern. I ended up being the first one to arrive, so I was
able to observe everyone else as they began to show up around 11:00 in the evening
on Friday. The gathering was very well attended. It was easily the largest I
have experienced since the Great Dark Swamp expedition earlier this year. I
saw many faces I have not seen in several months, as well as some new comers
I did not recognize.
Perhaps because it was uncomfortably cold outside, everyone at first seemed
content to linger in the tavern socializing. I said my hellos and spoke with
those present that I knew, but very soon I got restless and decided to go out
and explore some. I wanted to get a good look around town before things started
to get active. I walked down to the graveyard in order to get a decent if distant
look at Morbidus’ tomb, and then I continued off to the far side of town.
As I began to near the edge of Whitestaff I started to hear some rather bizarre
noises. It sounded much like music.
I decided to investigate, and followed the noise to a sizable clearing at the
edge of town. Once there I found a circle of power inhabited by a garish looking
bunch of musicians playing away at their instruments. There was a scrawny hag
beating on some drums with a pair of leg bones, an ugly looking guy hunched
over a pipe organ, some long hair freak sawing away at a fiddle, and a red haired
ghoul with a top hat singing a song about hiding a body. Outside of the circle
were around eight creatures made of bone lurching and jerking about in what
I can only assume was meant to be dancing.
Having heard the tales about the October gathering from the previous year, I
recognized this circus troupe to be the Harmonomancer and his bone golem groupies.
I didn’t see any weapons in evidence, and when I cautiously approached
I was not molested in any fashion. I observed for a moment or two, and decided
that such a performance clearly deserved a larger audience than simply myself,
so I headed back into town to let everyone else know what I had found.
A short time later there was a sizable crowd gathered to watch the Harmonomancer
and his band perform. A few people began gathering up some of the cast off bones
that the bone golems had left strewn about in order to see if there was any
significance to them. There did not appear to be any. A few of the freer spirits
spent a little time dancing around with the bone golems, and I admit that I
got caught up in the mood and danced a little bit myself. After all, it was
dark and very misty, so it was hard to recognize people anyway, otherwise I
doubt I would have been so inclined to embarrass myself publicly with a display
of my rather awkward gyrations.
Most people seemed content to just watch the performance, and it continued for
around twenty minutes or so. As the music began to wind down and it seemed that
things were drawing to a close, I edged over a little closer to the circle of
power. Elinril was already there before me, standing ready at the edge of the
circle of light. Like me, he had noticed through the fog and flashing lights
that there were a number of interesting and magical looking items lying at the
feet of the musicians inside the circle.
When the song finally ended, the Harmonomancer took his final bow, thanked us
all for coming to his performance, and then he and has band rifted out. A few
moments later the circle of protection dropped, and people wandered over to
examine the instruments. I was more interested in examining the items on the
ground. Eliniril was just as quick as I was, but I had the advantage of being
a little more flexible, and I managed to snag the lion’s share of trinkets
lying about. I immediately turned what I had found over to Viscount Mithrilmist,
but I still enjoyed the thrill of bagging the first treasure of the gathering.
Everyone hung around for a few more minutes trying to determine if there was
anything else of interest. The bone golems had not rifted out, but without any
music to dance to they just stumbled around aimlessly and resisted all attempts
by people to engage them in any sort of discourse. The Harmonomancer’s
instruments were all very bizarre, but none of them appeared to be magical or
possessing of any extraordinary powers. Eventually everyone filtered back to
the tavern.
We weren’t there too long before a peasant lady came in to tell us about
something she had seen in a nearby field. She explained that she saw robed wizard
in a tall pointy hat standing inside a circle summoning strange and grotesque
creatures. Under the direction of the Viscount Mithrilmist we all formed up
and went out to investigate this. We arrived at the edge of the field and were
immediately engaged by fiery elemental creatures. They were being commanded
by a shrill and vicious winged humanoid who kept yelling about how he was “The
Butcher”, and that he was going to chop us all to pieces.
I wasn’t particular interested in getting chopped up, so I kept my distance
from him. Caliphar and I ducked into the woods in order to sneak around behind
the main group of attackers. When we emerged from the other side, we saw that
there was the remains of a glowing circle in the middle of the field. We ran
over to investigate it real quick, and we saw the skeletal body of the wizard
still in his robes and pointy hat. There were a number of documents lying about,
as well as a few other interesting items, but we decided to leave everything
undisturbed for the time being. We then moved over and attacked the fiery elementals
from the rear, and in a short time the battle was over.
I did not see what became of the Butcher after the battle. The body of the wizard
and the documents that were lying about were quickly scooped up and whisked
away never to be seen again. Over the next two days I was able to piece together
the general gist of what this episode was about. The documents that were left
behind revealed that the wizard was in the employ of the recently deceased Rawlings.
Rawlings had left instructions with this wizard that in the event of his untimely
demise he was to perform a ceremony to summon “The Butcher”, and to
have him wreak his vengeance on Viscount Mithrilmist and the town. The ceremony
obviously went awry, and “The Butcher” was now loose on the countryside.
Luckily for us, we did not see any sign of him the rest of he evening. Once
again we went back to the tavern, and the Viscount passed out what little treasure
was gathered. At this point the hour had grown quite late, and I judged that
things were drawing to a close for the evening. I bundled up against the cold
and made my way to my cabin and went to bed for the night. There I remained
undisturbed until the next morning.
Afterwards I was told that shortly after I had retired the tavern was attacked
by Morbidus Bane and his minions. I was only told a few details about the battle,
but from what little I learned I am grateful I was not there. One of the visiting
barbarians from a distant land resurrected during the battle, and I was told
that it was a miracle that he was the only one. At one point Morbidus was said
to hold the entire tavern building unopposed and the majority of the town lay
dead or dying at his feet. Sadly, this is all I know of the matter.
I woke up the next morning at the crack of dawn after having only managed a
few hours of sleep. Despite my best efforts at piling on blankets I was freezing
cold. I decided that since there was light enough to see, I should scrounge
up a little bit of wood and see if I could light a fire in the hearth. I managed
to get a small fire going, but the fire did very little to heat the cabin I
was in. I believe I got warmer just from the walk in the woods than from the
heat of the fire. In any event, I was able to fall back to sleep and get a little
bit more rest before finally rising at around 10:00 in the morning.
Once the sun had risen things began to warm up a little bit, for which I was
most grateful. I got dressed and ordered my things within my cabin and made
my way back over to the tavern. There were a few sleepy looking souls there,
and it was at this time that I learned of the battle with Morbidus the occurred
the previous night. I ate a little bit of breakfast and set out once more to
explore.
I had not gone very far when I heard a commotion back from the direction I had
just come. I returned to the tavern and found that it was under a rather curious
form of attack. There was a very tall robed figure standing beside the tavern
berating some people who were talking to it through some open windows. The creature
was somewhat triangular shaped. It possessed a very small head tapering down
to a considerably wider sit of hips. Most curious of all I saw that it was supported
by 3 sets of red legs.
The creature loudly proclaimed that it was the Dread and Powerful Pyromorgis,
and that everyone’s doom was at hand. After a few moments of observation
I was able to determine that in fact it was three kobolds underneath a large
robe holding up a stick with a skull perched on top of it. Nobody in the tavern
was fooled, and they were making fun of the self-styled Pyromorgis. For its
part, Pyromorgis began to threaten and berate everyone. In the end of course
Pyromorgis was all bark and no bite. I snuck up from behind, and when I was
spotted Pyromorgis gave chase. I ran around the creature in circles, which resulted
in the three kobolds spinning around and winding the robe around the neck of
the one in the middle. They very nearly choked him to death.
Things proceeded in this fashion for a while. A pin spell was thrown which immobilized
one third of Pyromorgis while the other two thirds beat a hasty retreat. There
did not seem to be any sort of danger, so decided to continue on my way with
my explorations.
I spent the remainder of the morning wandering around seeing the sights and
exploring the surrounding area. I met a merchant on the road who was in a hurry
but who had enough time to sell me a number of magical components at a very
reasonable price. I briefly considered a trip to the tower I had visited on
my last trip to Whitestaff. I was curious to see how it looked now that it was
inhabited by representatives of all the various planes. However, once again
I decided that perhaps that would be a trip best undertaken with some company.
For a similar reason I decided not to visit the gentleman with the cellar full
of traps just yet.
But all this put me to mind of the mineshaft I had found the previous morning.
I returned to town shortly after lunch and saw that there was not a lot going
on. I asked around to see if anyone was interested in helping me explore the
mineshaft, and in short order Caliphar, Beryl, Boo, Nikki and I were on our
way.
I found the mineshaft without any serious trouble and with the aid of some ropes
we began to descend into the depths to explore. We eventually worked our way
to the furthest recess of the cave were we found a single skull sitting on the
floor. This was the source of the moaning and calling that we had been hearing,
and that had previously found its way all the way to the Fae tree.
The skull explained that it had been exploring the cave long ago when it was
trapped by a rockfall. At a later time the nearby river rose and washed away
his bones. Without his bones he was unable to pass on to any sort of rest. The
skull wished us to find his bones and return them, and it promised to reward
us if we did.
I had no idea what sort of reward I might be receiving from a busted up skull
stuck in a mudhole, but I figured we might as well gather up his bones. Ironically,
the last time I had participated in a “Let’s put all the bones back
together and see what happens” project with Beryl I ended up visiting the
earth circle as a result. This led me to harbor certain reservation about this,
but I figured that if the skull is going to keep blabbering away on the Fae
tree then the job is going to get done sooner or later. I might as well do it
myself where I have some control over the result.
We climbed back out of the cave and walked the short distance over to the river.
The river was fairly easy to cross at this point so half of us went over to
the other side. We then proceeded downriver on each bank looking for bones.
We found some on the bank, some out in the river hung up on rocks, and even
a few hanging from trees near the water. Collecting the bones wasn’t exactly
trivial, however. This stretch of the river was infested with some rather ornery
fishmen and water creatures, including a very large snake. We fought off the
local fauna and each grabbed all the bones we could find and then headed back
up river.
Before we re-entered the cave we laid out all the bones that we had found to
make sure that we had gotten them all. Somewhat to our surprise we found that
we had a surplus of bones. There was only a single ribcage and pelvic bone,
but we had an overabundance of arm, leg, feet and hand bones. We assembled a
complete skeleton out of what we judged to be the best matching set of bones,
and tossed all the spares into a bag I was carrying. Then we once again made
our way down to the bottom of the mineshaft.
We carefully picked our way back to where we had left the moaning skull. The
skull was quite happy to have its body returned to it. However, it did not remain
content with just the minimal set of appendages that we provided. The skull
stated that something was still missing. I began pulling all the spare bones
out of the bag I was carrying, and the now animated skeleton began adding all
new arms and legs until my bag was empty.
Things had by this time gotten way too weird for me. I had thought that when
the skull said it needed its bones to pass on it meant that it was going to
pass on to its final plane of resting. Instead it seems it needed its bones
so that it could get up and pass on right out of the mineshaft and go on its
merry way here on Tyrra. The creature seemed harmless enough, but I found myself
feeling less and less comfortable about this entire affair and decided the time
had come for me to end my involvement. I congratulated the creature on its newfound
body and told the other I had no wish to claim any part of the reward. Once
we had all emerged once more from the mineshaft I wished them all well and made
my way back into town.
Much of the rest of the afternoon was taken up with many minor episodes, much
of which I’m sure I am not aware of. I don’t believe that anyone actually
saw the Butcher that was summoned the previous evening, but I’m told that
some people found victims strung up in trees. There were a few isolated attacks
by fire creatures that may have been related to him as well. On the flip side,
I heard some of the younger adventurers talking about going to a farm house
that was over run with minor ice elementals.
One interesting creature that was seen by several people was a straw stuffed
scarecrow. The creature never spoke a word and instead gestured and mimicked
and acted the part of a mime. After it would carry on like this for a time and
get people convinced that it was harmless it would lash out and attack someone.
I only caught a glimpse of the creature for a moment when it jumped Ander on
one of the pathways leading to the tavern.
For my part, I spent most of the afternoon prowling around in the woods as is
my custom. Over the course of the day I came across a couple of interesting
items and creatures, and I’ll relate some of them here. One of the first
things I found was a small wooden box sitting in the middle of the path. When
I approached it, a voice came from the box asking me to open it to receive a
prize. I was a little bit wary, but I went ahead and opened the box. Despite
my caution I very nearly ate the death spell that came flying out of it, and
to this day I don’t exactly understand how it managed to miss me.
The box contained an assortment of odd coins, which I dutifully collected. If
I’m going to get the death spell, I might as well claim the prize. Once
I closed the box a voice once again spoke forth urging me to open the box again
to claim an even greater prize. Now I am a simple man, and I like to think that
I am not overly greedy. Coins and prizes are certainly nice, but when they come
at the risk of eating a death spell, I’m not entirely sure the reward is
worth the risk.
On the other hand, the voice had a rather mocking tone to it, and I’ll
be damned if I going to let some crappy little talking box get the best of me.
I approached the box once more and this time I pulled my rope from my pouch
and attached it to the lid. I played out the rope as far as it would go and
gave it a quick jerk to open the lid. This time two death spells jumped out
with a bit more force, but I was well out of the way of the danger.
I collected my prize of a few potions and scrolls, and once more found myself
taunted by the box. This time it claimed the prize would be magic. So once more
I employed my rope, and this time for good measure when I gave it a jerk I took
off running. When the lid popped open a veritable shower of death spells poured
forth in all directions. I waited at a safe distance until I felt reasonably
safe approaching the box, and then I collected my magical components as the
prize. This time when I closed the box it pouted for a short time and then rifted
away.
Some time later I found a challenge that was very nearly a disaster. I was exploring
a dark and damp section of the woods near the river when I came around a corner
and found myself standing before a pile of bodies. A strange looking skeletal
creature with a hideous human head was busy arranging and poking and mumbling
over the bodies. Just before I beat feet back the way I came the necromancer
saw me and hailed me most warmly.
Since he was being friendly, and since I had a little bit of distance between
us, I decided to engage him in some conversation while I figured out the best
way to scram. The necromancer was quite cheerful and explained how he was busy
preparing these bodies to raise as the start of his undead army. But he needed
more, more, more! He asked if I might possibly be able to assist him in acquiring
some new bodies, living or otherwise. I assured him that I knew just where I
might find some bodies that would be eminently suited to his purpose. He was
overjoyed, and went back to his preparations while I took off for town.
Once I arrived at the tavern the first people I found was Caliphar, Nikki, Beryl,
and Boo, who as you might recall were the very group that I had gone out with
earlier to the mineshaft. Beryl and Nikki was discussing something or other,
and Caliphar was standing there rolling his eyes looking for all the world like
he wanted to be somewhere else. When I explained the situation to Caliphar I
had barely gotten the words out of my mouth before he said “Let’s
go!” and he was off like a shot.
Now I have the utmost respect and admiration for Caliphar and his considerable
abilities, but nonetheless I was a bit apprehensive about taking on a necromancer
or lich with only the two of us. Caliphar would hear none of it, and confidently
asserted that we were certain to prevail. Knowing that Caliphar would continue
on even if I turned back to find more help, I grudgingly decided to follow his
lead.
As we approached we briefly discussed of rough plan wherein I would present
Caliphar as a willing victim. As it turned out we just walked up to the necromancer,
exchanged a few brief pleasantries, and then Caliphar proceeding to begin wailing
away at the creature. I’m not sure who was caught more off guard, the necromancer,
or me.
Despite his rather frail appearance, the necromancer took a frightful beating
but kept on going. Once it had gotten over its initial shock he began pelting
Caliphar with paralyze spells. By this time I had also managed to get into the
game, and I was beating on his backside. But once Caliphar was out of action
and the Necromancer turned his full attention on me I entertained no illusions
of being able to come out on top. The necromancer started tossing spells and
I ran like a little girl.
The necromancer cursed me and spat and me, and called me a false ally. Once
I had retreated out of the range of his spells we stood for a moment staring
each other down. The necromancer seemed to get confused as to whether he should
attend to his pile of bodies, pursue me, or begin working on Caliphar. This
allowed me to rush up quickly and toss a Dispel Magic potion down Caliphar’s
throat, which freed him from his paralysis. The necromancer immediately ran
over and chased me off, but Caliphar pretended to remain paralyzed, and thus
ambushed the necromancer once again.
The necromancer was not as surprised this time, and by the time I was able to
run forward to assist Caliphar I was too late. Caliphar was quickly spelled
down and I had to rapidly reverse course and take off running once more. Then
the necromancer began to raise Caliphar as an undead and I finally decided that
I was in way over my head and it was time to call in help.
I took off running for town and luckily found Boo, Nikki, Beryl and a few others
standing right where I left them. I quickly explained that Caliphar had gotten
himself all undeadified, and that he probably needed a little bit of help. Nikki
seemed to get the gist of what I was saying rather quickly, and the others figured
it out well enough once I pointed behind me at Caliphar who was now shambling
out of the woods and lurching towards us.
Like a pack of angry harpies, Boo, Beryl, Nikki and a wolven named Sasha tore
down the path and beat the stuffings out of the undead Caliphar. His body had
barely hit the ground before he was lifed and being screamed at for getting
himself in this predicament. Having set this vicious pack of feminine rage in
motion, I felt the safest course for me was to stand back and let it expend
its energies on something else. The necromancer provided a very convenient something
else.
Caliphar pointed over to where the necromancer now stood looking to see what
had become of his minion. Swords flashed, spells sizzled, and necromancer bones
flew in every sort of direction. All that was left at that point was to clean
up the mess, deal with the bodies of his unfortunate victims, and sneak off
before I caught any of the blame that was currently being poured on Caliphar.
All’s well that ends well, I suppose.
A short time later I came by the tavern and saw that a large amount of people
were gathered around. I asked what was going on and I was told that we had been
asked to wait here because we were about to go assault some sort of pillar of
fire. I then notice a bulky dark robed figure standing near the tavern. Everyone
was giving him a fairly wide berth. He had his hood pulled down low and his
arms crossed in front of him. When he would move I was able to spot a glint
of red scales. This was the dragon figure that we had be told was seen about
town earlier. I was told that his name was Ember.
As we stood around waiting I spoke with some people and got a general idea about
what was going on. I already knew that a pillar of molten ice was destroyed
by Pyromorgis a few months ago. This upset some sort of balance, and Ember was
here to set things back in equilibrium. Once we were ready he was going to transport
us to Mount Sarobar to the site of a pillar of molten flame, and we were supposed
to destroy it.
Everyone was a little vague as to how exactly we were supposed to destroy the
pillar. Ember indicated that the dark elf Arcos, or “Meatsack” as
he so endearingly referred to him, was to play some sort of role in its destruction.
The reason everyone was still waiting around was that Arcos had so far failed
to show up.
While everyone was waiting for Arcos, Lord Whitestaff and some of the other
adventurers decided that more ice magic would be needed in the coming attack
against the pillar. To that end they whipped out a bunch of formal magic components
and Lord Whitestaff drew a circle on the ground and put together a magical ice
sword. The various warriors began working out a plan for attacking the pillar
with the ice sword and passing off the sword to the next warrior once the user
had expended all his best attacks.
Meanwhile Arcos was still nowhere to be found. I watched the sword making process
for a little while and then stepped back and found myself talking to Mario Greymist,
who I had not met until that moment. Mario was clearly anxious to be on his
way, and he kept asking Ember what the hold up was. Ember kept telling him that
we were waiting on Meatsack. Someone must of told Mario the silly “Creator
of the Universe” joke that has been going around about me. Mario said that
if I could create the universe, then surely I could produce one Meatsack and
make him show up. If I recall correctly, I replied something along the lines
of it is the fate of all adventurers to stand around and wait, and some things
are not alterable by even one of my enormous powers. He didn’t seem pleased
with the answer.
Eventually the sword was made and Arcos arrived. Lord Whitestaff explained to
us that our only mission was the destruction of the pillar, and that we should
not waste time or effort on any other things. Ember produced a gate on the ground
and we all slowly filed in.
We emerged on the other side to find ourselves surrounded by a stifling heat.
We were somewhere on the volcano of Mt Sarobar. About 50 yards in front of us
was the pillar of fire we had come to destroy, and it was surrounded and guarded
by a swarm of fiery elemental creatures.
We all knew what to do so we plowed forward and rushed the pillar. The fighters
that were armed with ice weapons started the process of wearing down the pillar
and passing the ice weapons around. The process was in no ways simple. The pillar
of fire periodically tossed off great gouts of burning flames, and despite the
rest of our best efforts some of the fiery elemental defenders would occasionally
fight their way to the pillar’s side to defend it.
One of the worst defenders was a creature that was running around draining lives.
I was trying my best to do my part fighting the fire elementals, but I was definitely
getting worse than I was giving. Then I found myself life drained at which point
I became completely worthless in the fight. I thought at first to get a life
spell, but then decided I really wasn’t contributing that much in the first
place, and if I got lifed it would only be a short time before I got drained
once again. Therefore I spent the rest of the battle carrying bodies and pouring
potions and doing other such related tasks.
With all the running around that I was forced to do, I was unable to concentrate
long on what was going on at the pillar of fire. I'm told that it was slowly
worn down by the warriors with their ice weapons, and that the process was greatly
speeded up by Arcos stepping into the pillar and entering some sort of trance.
Eventually the ice swords took their toll, and the pillar of fire sputtered
and flared and finally went out. The order went up for everyone to leave and
I headed over towards the gate. But then things got very confusing. When the
pillar of flame was extinguished Arcos keeled over. When people went to lift
him up and carry him away they found that he was stuck to the spot where the
pillar previously stood.
I hesitated by the gate for a short time, and decided there was nothing for
me to do so I stepped through. I found myself back at the tavern in Whitestaff
along with a handful of other people who had gone through. I stood waiting near
the gate to see when everyone else returned, but 5 minutes passed and not a
single sole came through. Curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped back
through the gate once more. I found myself back on the volcano, and the situation
seemed completely unchanged from the moment I left. Arcos was still on the ground
and still stuck to the spot where he lay. There was a crowd of people standing
around frantically trying to get him unstuck, and the fiery elementals were
still running around attacking.
I found a nice safe spot out of the way to watch things. I sat there behind
a stone for a further five minutes before something finally gave way. Once they
were able to get the last of the ember of the fire pillar stamped out they were
able to get Arcos back on his feet and moving back towards the gate. I hurried
over and jumped through along with everyone else.
I can only presume our attack was a success. Ember seemed satisfied, and departed
shortly after we returned. Arcos seemed none the worse for wear after his ordeal.
Peregrine had snagged a box of treasure, and it was hauled into the tavern and
the sorting and dividing process began. I was a little wore out, so I took some
time to eat dinner and talk to some other people. It wasn’t until almost
an hour later that it occurred to me that I was still under a drain effect.
I decided that perhaps now would be a good time to beg a life spell.
Later on as the afternoon was drawing to a close I stepped out on the back porch
of the tavern. Several people were gathered around and there were a few strangers
present. The Fae Rainbow was there, and she was carrying a small baby around
with her. Either the child was in a flower shaped costume or perhaps that is
how all fae babies appear. She had another clownish looking companion with her
who was passing out candy. A small crowd had gathered around them, half interested
in the baby, and the other half more interested in free grub.
There was also a man in a black robe that was walking around asking people about
babies. He stated that he was in the market for purchasing one. I have no idea
why this guy thought it would be a good idea to approach a bunch of adventurers
looking to buy a baby. Someone had given this genius the idea that all gypsies
knew where to buy and sell babies, so he kept asking them if they had any they
wanted to get rid of. Finally Lord Whitestaff and a few others came over and
offered to help this man out. I saw them walk off down the path to where I suppose
they had a private conversation.
Sadly, I think the man may have been either drunk or very clumsy, because a
moment later when I looked down the path I saw that he had fallen down. Luckily
for him Peregrine was there to help him. I saw her leaning over his body and
trying to help him up. Or something.
But this was none of my business. While all this was going on I saw another
person sitting beside the road a short ways off playing with some cards in the
dirt. I asked a few people to follow me over, and I approached the man and asked
what he was doing. He said his name was Simon and that he was about to play
a game. He had placed four colored cards in a circle in front of himself, and
he placed four similar cards in a circle in front of us. He explained that the
object of the game was for him to press a card and then for us to press the
same card. He would then press the same card and another, and again we had to
match the pattern. He would continue to add one card to the pattern, and the
first of us to mess up repeating the pattern would lose. The winner would receive
a magical component.
If I recall correctly, Beryl was the first to play, and she won after Simon
messed up on around the fifth set of cards. I think Caliphar played next and
also won, and one other person played, though I forgot whom that was. Perhaps
it was Anyanka. Anyway, when it came to my turn I was a bit nervous. Everyone
else had won easily, and I was terrible at these sorts of game. Luckily for
me Simon tried to be clever and trick me. On the third set of cards he deliberately
messed up by reversing the order of the first two cards he pressed hoping that
I would follow up with the same sequence and thereby lose. I spotted his mistake,
and thus won my component. Despite the fact he had lost all four times at his
own game, Simon was a gracious loser and vowed to return after he had practiced
some more.
This was also about the time that Lord Whitestaff held another one of his Wizard’s
Titling Ceremonies. If memory serves me correctly, Anyanka Featherfall, Spice
Jongluer, Nicola Olearian and Ruendil Elencu all received some sort of wizard’s
title. I don’t recall offhand what the specific titles were.
This was the second such ceremony that I have attended, and it was very much
like the first. Lord Whitestaff had the wizard in question stand with one foot
on the titling rock and then he announced the title that had been chosen by
the other collected wizards. The candidates were given a chance to refuse the
title, but all of them accepted. At this point the wizards pin the title on
the candidate, which is a nice way of saying they cast bolt and storm spells
at the candidate until they keel over. Since Lord Whitestaff was the only celestial
wizard present, he was forced to do all the pinning, which several people found
amusing for some reason.
I had always imagined wizard ceremonies to be staid and formal affairs full
of lots of ritual and solemn ceremony. I was somewhat surprised to learn that
the titling ceremony was conducted in a jocular atmosphere similar to fraternal
organization hazing. I halfway expected at any moment they were going to make
the candidates chug a bottle of hooch or swat them on the behind with a great
big paddle.
By this time the sun was setting and it was starting to get very cold again.
Before I lost all the light I quickly hurried down to my cabin and stowed away
a small pile of firewood for the night. I didn’t want to freeze to death
two nights in a row. Once finished I went inside and changed into my warmer
outfit and then made it back to the tavern just before the sun had completely
set.
My timing turned out to be very fortuitous. Had I come down the path about ten
minutes later I would have received a very rude surprise. Shortly after I had
gone inside and gotten myself settled by the fire there came an awful shrieking
from outside the door I had come in a few minutes earlier. The door opened and
several people who had been outside on the porch said they were under attack
by several banshees.
I ran out the opposite door and looped around through the woods. I saw that
there was a semicircle of shrieking screaming banshees set up at the edge of
the woods facing the door of the tavern. There were other sorts of undead creatures
moving around amongst them. I started off following behind a few barbarians
and a panda scavenger, but one of the undead came over and absolutely wrecked
the panda in no time flat. I decided that I was definitely going to be a spectator
to this event.
Caliphar ducked into the woods a short distance from where I lay hidden, and
so far I had been having pretty good luck shadowing Caliphar in the battles
we had fought, so I went ahead and followed him. We looped the long way around
through the woods and crept up behind where the main undead bad guy was fighting
to the rear of the banshees. Caliphar charged out suddenly and attacked, and
by the time I had decided what to do it was all over.
Once Caliphar jumped the ghoul from behind it didn’t take long for everyone
to beat the monster down. While we had been busy creeping through the woods
some of the earth and celestial casters had gotten set up and blown away the
chorus of banshees. All in all the battle was not that particularly difficult,
but all the same the screaming banshees were definitely unnerving in a way that
some other more powerful monsters lack.
While the attack of the banshees proved to be deceptively simple, the next battle
proved to be an exercise in frustration. Around a half hour after the banshees
were defeated the doors to the tavern burst upon and people ran inside exclaiming
that the Butcher had returned. Sure enough the tavern was soon surrounded by
fiery creatures, and the winged figure of the Butcher was once more screaming
at the top of his lungs about how he was going to carve us into cutlets. Once
again, I wanted no part of the Butcher, so I stayed well away from him during
the battle. Afterwards I was told that he hit pretty darn hard normally, but
every once in a while he would get himself wound up into some kind of fit of
rage and begin lashing out for progressively larger and larger amounts of massive
damage. He would then go back to normal swings, only to begin the process again
after a short time.
The battle took quite a bit of time and raged all around three sides of the
tavern. I kept trying to pick off fiery creatures from the rear with only middling
success. I had my best opportunity when I had climbed a small rise to the rear
of the line of creatures who were being hard pressed from the front. It was
the perfect moment for me to throw the dagger I had been carrying around all
day into one of their backs, but of course when I reached for it I found that
moments before it had fallen out of its sheaf. In fact, after a few moments
of looking around I could see it lying at the feet of the very creature I had
been intending to throw it at. Oh well.
In the end I had to do things the hard way. I crept down off the hill, clobbered
the creature in the back a few times, and then ran back through to our lines
when he turned around. The battle ended a few moments later when the Butcher
was finally brought down. At least, that is what I thought at the moment.
The last of the fire creatures where mopped up and people started to relax a
little and heal and get themselves back in order after the battle. A small circle
of people stood over the body of the Butcher and for good measure someone delivered
a killing blow. To nearly everyone’s shock the Butcher immediately leapt
back to his feet and started hacking away at everyone. There was a mad scramble
as some people ran away and others ran forward, and the Butcher began working
himself back into one of his massive swinging frenzies. Luckily he was brought
down again before he could manage to get himself wound up too far.
This process repeated itself several more times. We could tell that he was regenerating,
but every time a killing blow was delivered he would immediately revive and
begin attacking again. Lord Whitestaff asked for suggestions and theories and
several were shouted forth, but none seemed to do the trick. Killing blows of
various sorts and natures were tried, but none accomplished anything other than
to revive the Butcher.
We were starting to get a little desperate and thinking that maybe we were going
to be doing this all night long when Sir Cedric Warclaw finally walked over
and said he knew what to do. From where I was standing I could see that he delivered
a killing blow of some sort, and to everyone’s relief it finally achieved
the desired effect. After the crowd had cleared out I asked him what he had
done. He said the Butcher was a creature called a Nemesi, and that he had heard
tales about them in Therendry.
Cedric's spirit totem and earlier explained that the creature got its power
from the armor that it wore. The armor itself needed to be destroyed or killed
first, since that was what was regenerating him and reviving him. Once it was
destroyed, the Butcher was killed. At least, I think it perished. I have since
heard that some claimed he rifted away, but that is not my recollection of events.
While I was glad that the Butcher was finally out of our hair, I couldn’t
help but feel a little sad that he was noticeably lacking in the treasure department.
He carried a cleaver and a necklace that detected as magical, and that was it.
The necklace was awarded to Logenn Marr after he guessed closest to the secret
number. I don’t know what became of the cleaver. I thought I heard someone
mention it had some sort of evil magical effects placed on it.
The hour was now growing quite late, and the weather was growing considerably
colder. A fire was built in the tavern in an effort to ward off the chill. I
was very grateful for this since I am rather thin blooded. As long as I’m
moving around I can generally keep warm, but I get the chills when there is
a lot of standing around to do.
Getting warm by the fire proved to a little more problematic than I thought.
The dark elven contingent that was attending the gather chose to camp out all
night at a table directly in front of the fireplace. When I would go over to
get warm by the fire, they would all turn around and finger their knives and
scowl at me. I certainly wasn’t looking to pick a fight, but if it meant
the difference between being cold and being warm I was really to risk annoying
them a little.
The last order of business for the night was to be Morbidus Bane. A creature
from one of the elemental planes showed up in the tavern and conferred with
the assembled nobles. Everyone present was ordered to present themselves to
this creature in order to receive a Planar Asylum spell that would allow them
to survive on the plane of nightmare. At the very least this meant we all knew
where we were going to have our final showdown with Morbidus Bane.
I knew from some previous conversations and hints that the assault was going
to take place at midnight. When the time arrived the town was ordered to march
forth to Morbidus Bane’s crypt. It had been discovered in some secret and
arcane fashion that the crypt served as a portal to the plane of Nightmare,
and that this portal would need to be closed. If it was allowed to remain, then
all of Whitestaff would likely be lost to the forces of nightmare.
Lord Whitestaff began a formal magic ritual that was aimed at destroying the
portal. This action somehow caused all of the assembled adventurers to become
transported to the plane of nightmare. We found ourselves in what appeared to
be a long endless corridor that was filled with undead creatures of all sorts.
The air was filled with mist and smoke, and bright lights made it difficult
to see. The battle was instantly joined.
The corridor was just wide enough for about six or seven people to fight abreast.
A shield wall was formed and the battle rapidly became a rock solid stalemate.
The undead were effectively endless so when one fell another immediately took
its place. Since we were only taking damage on around six people at any given
time it was initially fairly simple to keep them effectively healed and magically
protected.
The battle raged for nearly ten minutes fighting back and forth across the same
three feet of corridor. Something eventually had to give, and that moment came
when Morbidus Bane finally arrived on the scene. He launched his attack on the
front of our line and he mowed people down like wheat. Despite the ferocity
of his attack he couldn’t make much headway if for no other reason than
there just wasn’t any room. Once he slew everyone that was standing in
front of him the fallen bodies blocked him from advancing any further up the
corridor.
As gruesome as it may sound, we made good use of our fallen body rampart. While
Morbidus was stalled from advancing by the wall of bodies, upright and otherwise,
he found himself subjected to an avalanche of celestial magics, harm undeads,
and awaken spells being tossed from the back ranks of our formation. It did
not take him long to decide that he had had enough of that. He took a few steps
back and rifted out.
By the time all of our fallen had been revived and the battleline reformed to
the front, Morbidus rifted back in to the corridor to our rear. This turn of
events wasn’t entirely unsuspected, so there were a number of people in
the back who were set up and ready for him. Once again he tore into the crowd
with a vengeance, but wasn’t able to push his way into the soft center
of our position. The battle magic switched direction and once again began to
rain down on him, and once more he retreated by rifting.
It is difficult to gauge time accurately in such a battle, even if time passes
similarly on the plane of nightmare as it does on Tyrra. By my judgment we had
been fighting for close to half an hour by the time Morbidus rifted in one final
time to our front and made one last push against our position. The result was
much the same as before. People fell left and right, but Morbidus couldn’t
exploit his advantage due to the crush of people. Spells rained and rained on
him until finally he was no more. In the smoke and mist and glaring lights I
was not able to see how he met his end or rather he simply retreated. I just
asked where he was and I was told he was finally gone, and slowly the plane
of nightmare melted away before my very eyes.
When our senses finally cleared we found ourselves standing before the crypt
in Whitestaff. The formal magic ritual had just completed and the portal to
the plane of nightmare was closed. For the time it appears that Whitestaff is
safe from the menace of the plane of nightmare. I’m uncertain as the whether
this will be the last we see of Morbidus Bane, but for that only time will tell.
Most people were pretty well spent after this battle. After the requisite amount
of time winding down in the tavern and splitting up treasure a number of people
started to drift off to bed. Having missed some of the action the previous evening
by retiring too early, I decided to stick around a little while longer. To that
end I settled down in a chair near the fire (conveniently devoid of dark elves
at this point) and wrapped myself in my cloak to wait for something to happen.
The next thing I knew I was startled out of a sound sleep by the door to the
tavern getting kicked open. Three undead creatures strode purposefully inside.
I froze, and they walked right past me and attacked a small group of other adventurers
who defeated them without too much trouble. I realized that I was obviously
a little more tired that I had first thought, and that perhaps dozing in the
tavern it would not be the most healthy thing for me to do at this late hour.
I gathered up my belongings and began the trip back to my cabin. On my third
step outside the tavern door, a creature that had been lurking beside the porch
hurled a bunch of elemental shadow magic at me, which served to considerably
hasten my retreat to my cabin.
Just as in the previous night, after I retired I missed the last event of the
evening. All weekend long we had seen various carved and lit pumpkins set about
the town and even in the woods. I was told that after most people had retired
a curious creature emerged from one of those pumpkins. Everyone called him pumpkinhead
so I can only guess that he had a large pumpkin for a head.
I don’t know how many people fought pumpkinhead, but he seems to have been
a pretty impressive foe. I heard that he fought nearly the entire group of traveling
barbarians and rabbit scavengers just about evenly. Someone else also told me
that he got around by rifting in and out of the pumpkins that were spread around.
And that is where my tale ends. The adventuring season in Blackstone drew to
a close without entirely wrapping up all the loose ends. The menaces of Rawlings
and Morbidus Bane have been ended, but Pyromorgis and a handful of other villains
remain at large. There is much to think on a plan during the long winter months
until the adventuring season opens once more in the spring.