Author: Dennis

Previously, the heroes and their travelling companions were lured deep into the fog by some promiscuous swamp lights while on their way to Blackbough to search for answers on the plight of the cursed Lyrian queen. The swamp lights eventually lead them straight into the claws of an ancient foglet. The fight was short and brutal, killing both Randall as well as Michel, with Astrid, Isalien and Luca nearly perishing as well.

Fifth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Red, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning. Bloodmoon is waning. Darkmoon is waxing.)

After the battle had been won, the wounded had been revived and the dead had been recovered, James decided he wanted to chop the head of the ancient foglet but quickly found out that carrying that enormous head might be more than he bargained for. Instead, he decided to carve out the creature’s eyes and extract some of its teeth. If they wouldn’t catch him some crowns, they might be a nice souvenir.

Isalien used a thick branch of a nearby tree to fashion herself a crutch to take some of the weight off her injured leg. She began looking around for a good place to set up camp. Even though she assured the heroes that they were nearby Blackbough, the consensus was to wait until morning before heading into town. Before camp was made, Quentin lead some in giving the bodies of the fallen to the swamp by wrapping them tightly in their cloaks and blankets. Isalien asked for them to be placed beneath the high branches of a large cypress tree, hoping that they would become one with the tree as they passed.

When camp was made people took stock of their wounds and began to dress them. Astrid needed stiches and help with a dislocated shoulder. Several people were bandaged and James made good use of his healer’s kit, quickly spending many of the remaining supplies. It was late afternoon and there would be enough time for everyone to get eight hours of rest while still maintaining a watch.

Emrys created a small, smokey fire with some of the kindling that wasn’t completely soaked through. Together with  Luca he spent his watch on the lookout for those eerie swamp lights, which they saw darting around in the distance but never came in closer.

For those paying attention during their watch, they could see that the Bloodmoon was but a tiny sliver in the sky, with the Silvermoon being a beautiful crescent, while the Darkmoon stood in high sanction, casting an eerie blue glow across the swamp and the mist that undulated all around.

Sixth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Red, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning. Bloodmoon is waning. Darkmoon in high sanction.)

The next morning camp was broken up and despite the swelling and bruising of the fresh wounds, the journey continued. As predicted by Isalien, who still walked with the support of her improvised crutch, Blackbough was not more than two hours away.

In Blackbough, all decomposes; be it dead or very much alive. Rot blights trees, seeping sores torment beasts, and the whole swamp emits the acrid, stifling stench of decay.

Emerging from the mist, a small hillock comes into view, on the top of which stands a tall, wooden keep surrounded by a palisade. From the sides of the guard towers cling the soaked banners of the black tree of House Blackbough.

Down the slope of the hillock sits a hamlet of no more than a couple of dozen low huts made of bent logs, occasional crumbling masonry and rotting thatched roofs. A handful of sallow and bent people dressed in muddy robes tend to small gardens or are feeding a couple of sickly goats.

The heroes and their traveling companion made their way up the hillock and saw that the undulating mist receded enough to reveal another hillock in the distance. On top of it stood a large stone structure with a small tower. When they approached the wooden keep they saw that it was surrounded by a wide earthen wall with a tall palisade on top of it. The gate, a masonry structure with thick wooden doors which sat in a gap in the earthen wall and which carried a sturdy wooden tower atop it, was guarded by two well-armed guards. They carried halberds and swords at their side, and were dressed in studded leather enforced by plate pauldrons, gauntlets and splinted boots. Bits of chain reinforced where the leather strips fastened the armour. The gate tower had another guard atop it, as did the towers further along the palisade, each dressed similarly, but instead of a halberd, they carried crossbows.

Quentin was pushed forward in order to introduce the heroes and gain an audience. He seemed somewhat reluctant but proved to be quite comfortable in addressing the house guard in a manner that they responded well to. The guard opened the gate and allowed them entrance on the condition that they would stay their weapons. Inside the gate there stood wooden houses, barracks, stables with a hayloft and even a small granary. A smithy with a masonry forge and large bellows was the only structure besides the gate that was made of stone. In the middle of the yard stood a tall, wooden, multi-story manse with grey slate shingles for a roof. Everything looked quite well maintained.

The guard asked them to stay in the yard and went inside to announce their arrival. Several people came out of the manse, lead by a tall, thick limbed man with a hooked nose, dark, wicked eyebrows and a thick black beard. Lord Oswin’s head was shaved on both sides and he had a single strip of thick black hair that started at a widow’s peak, ran over his head and down the back in a thick braid. Several scars marred his face; one vertical scar along the side of his head, just behind his temple in particular.

Before the heroes could speak the man bellowed;

Lady Rowyn sent you to come and collect, has she? Well, you tell her that I understand full well what my responsibilities are and remind her of her own; I have requested more men to lay claim to the hargrove and instead of sending me men, she sends me tax collectors. Accompanied by an elf at that!

Quentin assured lord Oswin that the heroes were not sent by lady Rowyn and humbly asked to continue the conversation somewhere private due to the sensitive nature of their quest. Lord Oswin visibly relaxed and invited the heroes to choose two representatives to come inside and discuss while the rest remained outside. Quentin and James decided to follow and they were lead into a large hall, simply decorated, with benches lining the side, but with some large, elaborately carved chairs at the far end where lord Oswin and some of his people took seats.

One of the people who took a seat was a woman beyond her middle years. She was dressed well, but not lavishly, had neatly kept grey hair. She seemed too old to be lord Oswin’s wife, and too young to be his mother. When lord Oswin was asked about where ghost orchids could be found, he professed not to know much about the local flora, but introduced the woman as Ysgith. She said that she had heard of the orchid and claimed that they were legendary and grew on sites of great bloodshed, but couldn’t say where to find one.

When lord Oswin was asked whether any visitors had come through in the last few months, he said that besides the occasional Acadian, the only visitors was a scholar named Fedor who hailed from the Mazurian Hills who had come to investigate the abandoned church of Paladine. Lord Oswin had granted food and shelter to him and his guards and they spent a few days in Blackbough, going on several excursions. They left just before the feast of Midsummer. When asked about the abandoned church, lord Oswin explained that his father, the previous lord, had run the house coffers dry and could no longer pay the tithe to the church. When father Gregory turned to the villagers, who had never been pious followers of Paladine they quickly turned on the father and drove him out and pillaged the church.

Lord Oswin suggested talking to the villagers to possibly find out more about the ghost orchid. In the meantime, he offered the heroes shelter.

So I offer you a fire at which to warm your limbs. Also, a place at my table and beds for you to rest. On condition ye pledge to me one very small things; to respect the sacred laws of hospitality. Also, the elf maid that travels with you will have to remain in the cabin that is provided to you and is not allowed to roam.

Quentin took the pledge and he and James were reunited with the rest of the heroes who had remained outside. One of the guards walked them to one of the cabins on the yard and banged on the door. A servant opened up and was ordered to seek shelter elsewhere. There was enough space for all; a common room had a small hearth, a table and chairs, while the two other rooms had two beds each.

While the heroes were settling in and discussing on how to proceed, there was a knock on the door. A servant had come to bring them a crate of food; bread, cheese, goat’s milk, eggs, water. There was plenty for everyone. The man carried the crate inside and put it on the ground. He wore simple clothing and wooden shoes and as he bent forward, something dangling from around his neck slipped from underneath his shirt. He quickly put it back before hastily departing, but anyone who had been looking at him would have seen the decaying severed hand that was hanging from a leather string around his neck like a macabre talisman.

Previously, the heroes arrived in Eastray and found their way to the Hungry Hag where they took some much needed rest. Luca explored the city for a while and learned what was going on. Upon his return to the Hungry Hag, he and James had a conversation with a strange Mazurian noble, lady Azsharastrasza, or lady Asha for short, who was looking for people to trace down her mate, whom she claimed had fallen victim to a charismatic priest of the Cult of the Dark Queen by the name of Dominik. She had tracked the cult down to Dunagore and managed to find out the location of their hideout; an ancient temple deep in the hinterlands of Eastmarsh. She also had a stone statue that resembled the one that the Sheridans found in the catacombs underneath Lynnecombe. The heroes, while intrigued, could not give priority to lady Asha and left for Rivermeet the next day, and from there would have to make their way to Blackbough on foot.

Third Day, Second Ride, Autumn Red, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning. Bloodmoon is waning. Darkmoon is waxing.)

Leaving the settlement of Rivermeet behind, the heroes and their travelling companions began to make their way to Blackbough on foot. Isalien, the tracker who had plotted their course towards the east-south-east, said that it would be about a three day travel if all went well. Captain Randall seemed to lighten up at that news, but it was Michel that everyone looked to; being the only Acadian he seemed the most experience in the swamps. His face betrayed that her caveat was an important one; if all went well.

The descent from the hillock upon which Rivermeet was settled immediately saw the ground grow soggy, and after ten minutes the tall grass on either side of the narrow path had soaked the shoes, trousers and bottom of everyone’s cloaks. The small path meandered through the soggy countryside, avoiding puddles, ponds and peat bogs, and eventually strayed further away from the Ivel as the river headed south. As a result, the rushes and reeds started to make place for low-growing shrubs. Isalien said that if all went well, they’d meet up with river in a little over a day.

Again that  caveat; if all went well.

After a few hours, the area started to be dominated by large trees, cedars, cypresses and willows, with thick stems and large, slippery roots which arched high out of the ground. Isalien explained that the area often flooded with water, washing away a lot of the soil that the trees nestled in and exposing their roots. The roots were burrowed into the peat underneath the mud that the flooding brought, giving the trees the necessary foundation. Quickly grasses, ferns and bladderworts would sprout up around the trees, which in turn would become fertiliser for rosemary, buttonbush, cattails and bogspice when the water levels rose again. Water lilies, pondweed and swamp roses would thrive and the cycle would start anew.

Soon after it became clear that leeches were going to become a problem and on several occasions the group had to stop to remove them. Michel assured everyone that the mash was much worse during the warmer months, with aggressive mosquitos the size of a child’s hand attacking every piece skin you exposed. It also didn’t take long before the guides had pointed out a variety of cleverly hidden snakes and crocolisks of different sizes; though none nearly as large as the one hanging from the rafters at the Hungry Hag.

With only a couple of hours of light left, Isalien came upon traces of lizardfolk. James and Isalien scouted ahead and found that there was a large village of lizardfolk close by. The larger of them carried clubs spiked with bone and carried shields made from turtle shells. They had hung the skulls of animals, goblins and humans in the branches of trees around the village, and a quick assessment of the situation drove them to conclude that the lizardfolk were aggressive and territorial. In order to avoid the lizardfolk’s territory the group could either go around and add about half a day of travel, or they could attempt to sneak past by wading through murky waters. The group decided to do just that and managed to avoid contact with the lizardfolk at the cost of countless leech bites and drenched clothing.

That night shelter was found between the roots of an enormous willow tree where the tents were erected. With a great deal of effort a smoky fire was made. Everything was wet and finding dry wood seemed impossible. The heroes became acutely aware of the strange sounds of the marsh and found it difficult to find rest as there was every possibility to that they would be discovered by a small army of lizardfolk.

Fourth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Red, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning. Bloodmoon is waning. Darkmoon is waxing.)

With clothing still damp from the previous day’s travel, the heroes and their companions continued on their way. Following their departure the groundwater level started to rise again and soon after shoes, trousers and robes were soaked through. When the heroes and their companions found themselves in the rushes on the edge of a flooded area of an enormous size it looked like the group would have to take a detour.

Before a new course could be plotted, Michel noticed a large houseboat coming into view through the pale, morning mist that was rising up from the lake. Contact was established with the people on deck who were piking the boat along through a collection of hand signals and the boat slowly drifted closer. The houseboat was home to two families of Acadians who were looking to trade. Michel negotiated a few simple trades and asked whether it was possible for the group to be ferried across the lake. The family eventually agreed when a few more trades were made. The heroes and their companions were not allowed to come into the home, but could sit on the front deck.

The journey continued on the other side of the lake until they came upon a large flooded grove of ancient cypress trees. After some contemplation, the group decided to take their belongings, hold it above their heads as much as they could, and wade through the murky waters. Anything was preferable to having to accept a detour. Having to depend on their guides, the heroes took it slowly through the grove, being extra careful to avoid crocolisks and snakes as well as patches of sinking sand; dangerous areas where the guides assured the heroes the ground would swallow them up completely.

On the other side of the grove they found that they were quickly approaching the river again, the water of which was the cause of the flood. With the remaining light a suitable spot was found among the rushes of the river, giving the group access to fresh, drinkable water. Michel used the opportunity to do some fishing  and he used his catch, together with some crawfish he dug up from the mud to create a spicy fish stew.

Fifth Day, Second Ride, Autumn Red, 1262

(Silvermoon is waning. Bloodmoon is waning. Darkmoon is waxing.)

The next morning the group started moving shortly after dawn, continuing east and away from the river. The countryside changed, with slow rolling hills the further the group moved east. More trees, predominantly cypresses, birches and willows, started dotting the hinterland, and while the ground was still soggy, the swamp grounds were only contained to the low areas between the hills. As a result it became easier to avoid the dangerous lizards and snakes.

The sky became grey, overcast and dramatic. Cold air descended, and a fog came down upon the land like a blanket. Soon the heroes and their companions had a hard time seeing in front of them. When visibility had gone down to less than a hundred paces the progress slowed to a crawl. Soon after a pale glowing light appeared in the mist which seemed to be guiding the heroes through the light, but always at a distance.

Eventually, an eerie feeling came over the heroes and before they could react, a large, humanoid horror appeared from the fog, with malicious eyes, long claws and dark, dried skin stretched so tightly across its skull that it’s lips were torn open to reveal horrifying teeth. The glow came from the cavernous void where its chest should be, cradled by the rim of jagged ribs of its destroyed ribcage.

The mist hung thick and heavy across the marsh and the heroes and their travelling companions got ready. They had seen the enormous, ghoulish creature dart in and out of the fog and saw that the lights that had lead them into the trap were darting around nervously.

Before the creature struck, a dense, animated mist formed in which foggy duplicates of the creature formed, dissipated and reformed. These duplicates relentlessly attacked the heroes and their companions and was meant to soften them up before the creature moved in. Isalien, Randall and Michel were both quickly overwhelmed by the mist. Only Isalien ended up surviving, while Randall and Michel perished as they stumbled out of the fog and were confronted by the tiny, glowing creatures who were capable of shocking their victims.

The ghoulish creature, which Luca identified as a larger and likely much older version of the creature which attacked them en route from Bournemouth to Egremont on board the Old Queen, mostly focussed on Quentin, James and Astrid. Luca quickly lost consciousness due to the duplicates in the fog and Emrys stood over him, attempting to keep the glowing creatures at bay. The duplicates made it difficult to concentrate, made only worse when the foglet surrounded himself with illusionary images of itself, something which Emrys had also done as a precaution.

Astrid went down under the assault from the foglet, unable to keep its aggression at bay. James and Quentin managed to manoeuvre it out of the deadly mist and focussed on the knight while the rogue found opportunities to strike at it. Quentin had to dig deep in order to survive, even resorting to the abilities of Róisín; conjuring up a healing spirit and soothing his wounds with some of the nutritious berries that sometimes grew on the scabbard.

Meanwhile, Emrys rummaged through Luca’s belongings to find one of the potions that they had purchased from Ecgbrith and he managed to nurture his friend back to consciousness. Miraculously, Astrid managed to regain consciousness by herself. Together, they made a last stand against the foglet and managed to defeat it.

James recovered some of the daggers he had thrown at the foglet and took one to cut the beasts head off its shoulders in a rare display of brutality which usually was reserved for Astrid.