Category: RPG

Atilesceon’s Journal Pages

Old Journal Pages

On Mohiam…

Her influence has grown considerably among the crusade and the other Senhadrim. She is… appealing. She has been marrying her disciples to people of influence and it leaves me to wonder if she has plans for me too.

I am having a hard time getting through to her. She isn’t receptive to my suggestions and appears to be unwilling to consider my offer. Her disciples constantly accompany her, which makes it hard to build a rapport, let alone trust. A change in approach is in order. Time to grab the gorgon by the horns.

I am done with her and the games she plays. This is the last time she makes me look like a fool. But I found out her secret; she is not marrying her disciples off for mere influence peddling, this is an elaborate, multi-generational breeding program! She might have more friends on the council, but I am have more friends among the crusade. We will see who has the last laugh.

I have struck a deal with the Dark One. Those traitorous crusaders will pay for chosing her side over mine. They turn a blind eye to her manipulations and becoming willing pawns in her breeding program because they get supplied with wives, and abjurers to boot. I simply have to lure them to Gwenllygad. I will then be able to work on perfecting my creations for an eternity… and she will be there too. Forever. For me to do with as I please. Forever.

On the Arms of the Senhadrim…

Some of these fools are discussing their own mortality, what will happen to them once they pass. They are concerned that their death will have a significant impact on the war effort. I wonder how long it will be before the word “necromancy” will be uttered on the council floor.

Well colour me even more baffled by this than I already was. None of them brought up the usual solution to the problem of death, premature or otherwise. No, instead of necromancy, they are looking to me for enchantment advice! They want to infuse themselves with their own arms. Even the ageless lunatic Toruviel is considering it. The more thought I give it, the more I think it could work, even if I do think it’s absolute madness.

In an intense ritual which was not for the faint of heart, the first of the Senhadrim transferred their souls into their chosen weapons. Their sacrifice was hailed as by everone as bravery. I still maintain it is lunacy. Their souls might be maintained, but not all of them maintain their sanity…

On Lauriel Skycaller…

Mammon has granted me every wish provided I continue building war machines for him. I have minions that satisfy my lusts and every whim. I have riches beyond comprehension. I have the prior in Old Llygad, defeated over and over again. I have everything I said I desired. He has fulfilled the contract to the letter. And yet…

I should have been more careful with the contract I signed. I was to have Lauriel, but she is caught in Old Llygad much the same as the prior. I have her, but she will still never be mine.

On Tharizdun…

The Mad God, the Elemental Eye, Maškar, Hermod, the Aspect of Luck, Erevan, Hanseith, never has there been a deity so misunderstood. Never has there been a deity who sacrificed so much for the innocent in the Ethereal Mist. Now hunted by all other deities and powers, for the secrets of the Seal of Divine Animus. Trickery, misdirection and change is their domain, and for aeons they have remained undiscovered. Undiscovered by all but one; their most devout follower and the author of the Tablets of the Elemental Eye.

On the Seal of Divine Animus…

When Tharizdun had finally healed from the influence of the Shard of Evil and saw what they had wrought in the Elemental Sea, when they saw the extent of the eternal conflict of the Blood War, they recoiled in shame and horror. They took pity on the mortal creations on the planes of the Ethereal Mist and parted with a sliver of their divine animus to seal the mist off from the Astral Sea and the Elemental Chaos before going into hiding. As is the nature of their grace, the Seal of Divine Animus is ever in flux.

On Senhadrim Politics…

I joined the Senhadrim because I wasn’t a crusader. But the crusade is what held my fascination. Quickly, I learned that the Senhadrim was less of an organised structure, and more of a collection of individuals with an arcane or divine background who wanted to participate in the crusade. They all had their own ideas and ideals on how to collaborate with the Silver Crusade and the Senhadrim was an attempt to galvanise those differences. The council quickly became a place for debate and exchange, which sounds more appealing than it really was. In those days there were few institutions and every man and woman who was touched by the arcane had to do much of their research on their own. That lead to some wildly different approaches that proves hard to unite. In that sense, the clerics had an easier time integrating into the Silver Crusade, which consequently lead to many of them leaving the Senhadrim and helping the crusade directly. Without the wisdom of the clerics to lead the Senhadrim, the council became even more fractured. Mohiam focused on placing as many gifted diviners and abjurers among places of influence as she could, chasing a prophetic fantasy. NAME focused on efforts to appeal to solars and deva directly. And I tried to equip the crusaders with the war machines they required. Scorpions with lyrium tipped bolts and arcane powered trebuchets. Everyone was collaborating in a different direction, trying to undermine each other in order to secure the most resources. I am glad I am valued for my contribution. I no longer work for the mortals and don’t have to deal with the politics, but the goal remains the same.

On the Ebb and Flow of Magic…

The Seal of Divine Animus protects the Ethereal Mist from the horrors of the Elemental Chaos and the subjugation of the Astral Sea, but it also dampens the access to Mystra’s gift. As the Seal waxes and wanes, so does the Ethereal Mist’s access to the weave of magic. My departure from the material plane to Minauros has unlocked my access to the weave in a way I am still not able to fully comprehend…

On Crossings…

There has been a lot of talk among my peers about crossings, recently; areas where the fabric between our plane and the other planes in the Ethereal Mist are naturally thinner and could be more easily breached. There are fey crossings and shadow crossings, leading to the Feywilde and the Shadowfell, respectively. Oftentimes these crossings are guarded. A fey guardian can sometimes be persuaded to let someone cross by performing a ritual. A fell guardian can sometimes be persuaded to let someone cross by making an offering. What kind of ritual or sacrifice requires intricate knowledge of these realms and their mechanics. It is theorised that there are astral and elemental crossings as well, which allow for people to more easily cross over to the different plans in the Astral Sea and Elemental Chaos, but I have yet to find proof of this.

I have found where I will erect my tower. On the placid shores of Llyn Gwenllygad is where I will make my home. There are both nearby fey and shadow crossings, and I have found proof of an astral crossing now, too. The only thing that’s missing is an elemental crossing, but three out of four is beyond what I could have hoped for!

On the Blood War…

The Blood War. The eternal conflict which started out as a rivalry between the Elemental Chaos and the Astral Sea, has now warped into a war between the Abyss and Ba’ator, Tanari’i and Baatezu, demons and devils. Before the Pact Primeval angels were fighting a losing battle against the ever expanding potentiality of the Abyss. But once Asmodeus established Ba’ator as the primary afterlife of the mortals from the planes of the Ethereal Mist, angels no longer had to corrupt themselves in the fight. The baatezu could now recruit among the wicked arriving in Ba’ator and use the rest to fuel their war efforts. Once I understood how misery and suffering could be leveraged as fuel, I could start my research in earnest.

I have often wondered about the Seal of Divine Animus and why the two sides in the Blood War care so much about access to the Ethereal Mist. It is simple, really; the Abyss seeks to destroy all of creation, just like they did with the reality that the first demons came from. Ba’ator tries to prevent this, able only to fuel their war efforts with the souls of mortals who have strayed from the path set out for them by their divine creators. If the demons can destroy all places in the Ethereal Mist, they effectively cut the devils off from their only source of real power. After that, it would only be a matter of time before the demons take the planes of the Astral Sea.

Recent Journal Pages

On the Age of Arcanum…

The most innervating time I’ve ever lived through was the Age of Arcanum, when we were celebrated as pioneers and the heralds of all that was good and virtuous about magic. Before, and after, magic was considered something to be feared, the tool of fiends and all who served them. I went from a valued member at any court in the land, to a feared and reviled threat to any society I interacted with.

On the Senhadrim Beacons…

When the great waning set in, I observed with great interest as the last remnants of the Senhadrim slowly dwindled out of existence. I watched them blow out the lanterns, lock the doors and close up shop. But we all knew that the Seal would not last forever and there would come a time where the shop would be opened back up and the lanterns would be relit. They understood that when that time came, the Senhadrim Vaults would be valuable source of information. And so they left magical beacons whose signal, with the coming flow of magic, would start to shine more brightly until the vaults were once again unlocked and rediscovered. Their light is very faint, right now, almost imperceptible. But the former Senhadrim, like myself, will soon be sensitive enough to start picking up their signal again. Then the race to recover what’s locked away will be on.

On the Khazra…

The tribal khazra from the beastlands are likely to be our best collaborators, as they are more intelligent and dependable than the skaven and less uncompromising than the minotaurs. I have sent minions to establish contact with some of the tribes chosen to investigate what are now known as the Elder Foothills, as I wish to equip them with artefacts which  may be able to detect the beacons.

On the Minotaurs…

The minotaurs are Ba’ator’s most dependable and precious minion race. Strong, dependable and unshakeable warriors utterly devoted to the archduke they serve. They are militaristic and honourable. As such they are most often deployed to areas of strong military opposition or theatres of war. They do not suit our purposes. For now. The favour which my creations have curried with them might become useful in the future.

On the Skaven…

Of the different minion races, the skaven are primitive, cowardly and the least intelligent. Their only strength seems to be the sheer number their hives seem able to field. They are organised in clans, all of which seem to have their own crude specialisations (e.g. pestilence, assassination) and their society seem centred around the worship of the Horned Rat, a servant of Baalzebul, the archduke of Maladomini.

A note of concern about the loathsome skaven is that they are susceptible to demonic corruption and their continued subjugation during the Blood War cannot be guaranteed. We will have to keep an eye on their hives on Carceri for the next few millennia.

On Kalauranthalasis…

That poisonous wyrm has been taken prisoner by those fanatics, and word has reached us to confirm that it was in possession of two of the Tablets of the Elemental Eye. If it wasn’t for my experiments here, I would seek them out to swell the collection of the Dark One. Perhaps there are those willing to compensate me for me for this information?

On the Upright Man…

None of our agents has been able to get close to the Upright Man for a very long time. The last time anyone of ours got close they disappeared… but not before confirming that they didn’t have one, but two of the tablets in their collection of antiques. It has proven nigh impossible to get anyone close to the situation since. If I can get close to one of their underlings, however…

On Dr. Arkenward…

Out of professional curiosity I track the movements of some of the promising wizards around, and this one caught my attention when he was appointed as the court abjurer to the current ruler of Lyria. His only form of compensation was an old and dusty stone tablet from the royal collection. Could it be? Dr. Arkenward will get more of my attention…

On the Daerlan Empire…

The expansionist tendencies of the illustrious emperor Wilhelm var Adelheim-Stoltenborg are impressive, but his decree that the practice and pursuit of arcane inquiry and discovery be regulated and only limited to the military is a travesty. Despite my own proclivities towards the military – I did join the Senhadrim with the express interest of aiding the crusade, in all my youthful naivety – I begrudgingly admit that this leaves many areas of discovery unexplored. Their aggression, however, did unearth one of the tablets from the personal collection of the Daerlan arcanist outlaw known as Griswald the Grey.

On the Szygani…

During my time in Lyria, before departing the Senhadrim and the crusade, the phenomenon of the szygani was a rarity so much as to be unknown. Since, hostilities, in what is now Mazuria, has lead to a diaspora of these curious people. Notoriously unaligned and reviled, their natural arcane connection is undeniable. They are one of the last to openly worship Tharizdun, in the form of Maškar, and therefore it didn’t surprise e to learn that one of the Tablets of the Elemental Eye was rumoured to be in the possession of one of them. It is unclear to me who; if there is any truth in their thieving nature it could literally be any of them.

On the Ritual of Returning…

As I want to be prepared for the possibility of returning some of the prisoners of war, and of course those who occasionally have found their way to Gwenllygad, I have devised a ritual which would allow me to let them depart. It has been modified, over time to separate the visitor souls from the prisoners of war. In my younger years, when I was still hopeful that Lauriel could be reasoned with, I adapted the ritual to allow for prisoners to be returned, too, but I have since destroyed any written evidence of that. The ritual is lengthy and requires a crossing to the right realm in the Ethereal Mist. The ritual is also very costly, as it requires the consumption of a voluntary soul, as the “burden” of imprisonment needs to be taken on my someone. Below are the details of the ritual, as well as my ongoing research on how to mitigate that almost insurmountable cost.

On the Senhadrim Vaults…

Recently we have started to deploy several of clans of the loathsome skaven in search for artefacts among the old crusader vaults. Some valuable things were recovered, some of the old Senhadrim arms among them. Their souls are being interrogated as we speak. After my departure from the Senhadrim, when the seal slammed shut and the age of arcanum came to a close, the Senhadrim created vaults of their own where they hid their treasures. I am almost certain we will find at least one or two tablets among those collections.

On the Devil Mammon…

During my time at the Senhadrim we knew the legends about the archdevils that ruled over Ba’ator. From the lore, we all developed a particular idea about each one of them. When I got in contact with the Dark One, I was quite surprised to learn that the lore was not even remotely close to the truth. No opulence, no gaudy jewellery… no, just a hunger for power and influence. The currency is not gold or precious gems, it’s knowledge, it’s influence, it’s clout. It takes all kinds of shapes, like souls. Like my soul. But sometimes it’s more material. Like the three tablets in the Dark One’s collection. I have yet to learn what the purpose of the collection is, but I dare to hazard some guesses…

On the Demon Pazuzu…

Pazuzu goes by many names. I call them the great corrupter. They swayed Asmodeus to abandon the “glory” of servitude. They have long ago targeted Tharizdun for corruption, and while that didn’t work, I am convinced Pazuzu is going to try again. How do I know this? Because I have learned that Pazuzu is in the possession of five of the Tablets of the Elemental Eye. It is said that with fifteen or more tablets, it should be possible to locate the Illusive One. If the demon gets to Tharizdun and manages to corrupt them, like the Shard of Evil once corrupted the Mad God, then nothing will stand in the way of the Abyss destroying all planes in all realities.

On the Crimson Guardian…

I am very proud of my creation. After water, I have now mastered stone. It shall serve as the guardian to the portal to and from Old Llygad. I have imbued it with the possibility of a directed lightning attack. It ejects flames on all sides and it can self-repair. It takes a moment for these abilities to take effect, and during that time there’s an option to alter or abort these functions.

The Tower At Last

Note: my recollection of the events during this session is severely limited due to the events of the last few weeks. The recap is shorter and lower on detail as a result.

Previously, the adventurers conducted more research around Pinefall, gathering more information about the region and its people by talking to Bristlecone villagers and the visiting szygani camped outside of the abandoned village.

First Day, Second Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

While searching through the abandoned village, the adventurers spoke about the nature of their mission, what they had signed up for, and whether or not they might need to renegotiate their contract with House Sheridan in light of them possibly having to enter the cursed Crimson Tower in order to find Lord Destan. And then there was the question of the message that Falka had received from House Sheridan, dissuading her from helping the adventurers on their quest. Were they even still doing House Sheridan’s bidding? In the end, Emma offered to send a message using her divine gifts, explaining the situation and possibly starting a renegotiation of their deal with House Sheridan.

While visiting the nearby szygani camp, Luca decided to approach Hejduk and talk to him in depth about what brought him to Pinefall. Luca used the information that was given to him by his master to quickly find that Hejduk was indeed the “other who serves” that his master mentioned. He quickly convinced Hejduk that he would have to join the adventurers in finding and entering the Crimson Tower, something he was nervous but eager to perform.

Because the adventurers had committed to the plan of entering the Crimson Tower, most of them spent some time coming to terms with what was about to come. Astrid and James went back to the Rudwick barton to drink while James wrote his mother a letter. Emrys and Luca went to speak to Isobel once again to try and see if there was any way in which they could have access to the tracker without James’ involvement. There wasn’t, but she did sweeten the deal by offering a pearl that Luca could use in his divination rituals. She also promised to cook the adventurers a nice meal.

While the adventurers ate, Luca shared his plan to bring Hejduk along with him, which met with surprisingly little resistance from the rest of the group. He spoke about how Maškar, the szygan deity, had brought Hejduk to Pinefall and that his destiny lay inside the Crimson Tower. Luca also shared what Emrys and himself had discussed with Isobel and that she had expanded her offer.

Second Day, Second Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

The following night the adventurers were awoken by a storm; rumbling of thunder and the sound of rain hitting the shutters. Light kept flickering from beneath the cabin door and in the cracks of the shutters. When the adventurers opened the door and peered outside, they were confronted with a chaotic scene of the wind blowing branches and leaves everywhere while the moons were obscured by dramatic clouds.

There was screeching and howling in the air as well as strange cackling laughter. The sounds of leathery wings straining against the howling wind could be heard, with the occasional crack of a whip and the rustling of wicked chains. Wicked shadows could be seen flying overhead, but never in enough detail to make out what it was.

In the morning, the adventurers spent time at rest. The conversation turned to Emrys’ upbringing among the elves of the Aen Adhar of the Riverlands. He explained that he was raised in a cult of Sehanine Moonbow and was a prophesied child, but that much to his frustration it never became clear what it was that he was supposed to do. Emrys believed that his sometimes erratic magical ability might be at the core of the belief of the Sehanine cult, but that his occasional lack of control over his magic has lead to results far worse than his hair turning silver and his eyes radiating with light; it lead to the sudden disappearance of his tutor, the elf named Voriel. Emma recognised the name as the person Emrys had pledged his Sheridan reward to in the case he didn’t return from the mission.

After that conversation, Emrys seemed in a melancholic mood and he decided to continue writing the ballad he had dubbed “The Tragedy at Allenham.”

James decided to pay Drummond a visit and handed Drummond the letter he had written and asked that if he did not return from his upcoming expedition that the letter be delivered to his mother back in Kingsport. The old, retired soldier happily obliged James’ request.

What eventually moved James to decide to part with a lock of his hair was only known to James himself, but the adventurers finally set foot in the witch’s hut. Inside, they found the witch was preparing a meal for the adventurers while the gaunt form of the tracker lay asleep in a small bed.

As you enter the small hut in the middle of the forest your senses are immediately overwhelmed by the rich smell of Mazurian beef goulash coming from a large pot hanging over a small fire in the stone hearth. Tenderly cooked meat swirling in a thick broth of onion, capsicums and tomatoes, rich with pepper, cloves and garlic.

It’s dark inside and your eyes take a moment to adjust to the shaded surroundings. A large table stands in the middle of the hut, set with cups, plates, bowls and cutlery for all of you. Above the table, among the rafters of the moss covered roof hang wreaths of garlic, and thick bushels of rosemary, lavender and dried mandrake.

The hut is decorated with furniture which holds small jars, trinkets, spice racks and kitchen utensils. Several pots of different sizes are standing next to the hearth as well as a rack with implements to raise and lower the fire. Dried firewood is stacked neatly on one side of the hearth. A rope is strung from one end of the room to the other, just below the rafters. It holds several articles of clothing, hanging out to dry.

In one corner of the room stands a small bed in which a man lies asleep. He has dark hair and a gaunt face. He is handsome if it wasn’t for his pale complexion and his sallow features. His face looks peaceful. His hands are placed above the blanket that covers him, gently resting on his stomach. His posture reminds you of a tomb effigy.

A curious circle set with an elaborate star, adorned with unsettling symbols has been carefully drawn on the wall against which the bed has been placed. Small fetishes of dried flowers, feathers and bones have been pinned inside the circle there where the lines of the circle and star cross. The symbols seem to have been retraced with a thick, red liquid. Possibly blood. It has long since dried up.

In the other corner of the room, an owl is sitting on a perch observing everything. Elsewhere a black cat is asleep on the floor amongst several balls of wool, dyed green.

The adventurers spent some time investigating the unconscious tracker, especially after the witch revealed that he had a burn mark on the inside of his hand that was almost identical to the one that James bore. Luca noted, not for the first time, that the curious design of the mark reminded him of several wizard marks he had seen circle trained mages use as a personal seal. Fading bruises and healing wounds dotted the tracker’s body, but nothing serious, except the wound on the back of his head, which seemed to have been caused by a blow.

Once again, Luca made use of Blackstar’s ability to find souls for its consumption and found that unlike Robart, a soul housed inside the tracker’s body. Not only that, but there was a faint, second soul hidden inside the body as well.

While the adventurers discussed what their discovery possibly meant, Isobel took the lock she had received from James and started to create another fetish, weaving his hair into it, together with the small feather of a local songbird and the head of an acorn. She pinned it to the arcane circle above the tracker’s bed, explaining that she believed that James’ connection to the tracker would help power the circle in keeping the tracker’s soul from departing its body.

The conversation continued over the meal, though not all of the adventurers ate the offered food. Isobel did not seem to notice as she was beaming at Astrid’s appetite. The conversation quickly turned to Robart and his lack of a soul and the adventurers decide to talk to Coranthe, retrieve Robart and let Emma perform the Ritual of Restoration in the water of the pond behind Isobel’s hut. Isobel explained that she chose the location of her home because of the presence of a so-called “crossing” around the pond, where the fabric between the realities in the ethereal mist was thinnest.

Surprisingly, Coranthe was very susceptible to allowing Robart to accompany the adventurers into the woods. But unfortunately the ritual was not successful; both the tracker and Robart were unchanged, though Robart, having waded into the waters of the pond and washed by the priestess, did have a much needed bath.

After putting the tracker back in his bed, the adventurers said their goodbyes to Isobel who gave them a parting gift of two pearl earrings. When Luca said the agreement was for but one earring, she snapped at him demanding to know what she was going to do with an earring without its matching pair.

Robart was returned to Coranthe and Luca went to visit the szygani camp to instruct Hejduk to be at the western shore of the lake before dawn the following morning. He then returned to the farm and performed a divination on the leather bracers that James had pulled from the giant’s camp several days before. They turned out to benefit the wearer with an unnatural gift of archery.

Luca and Emrys spent some more time discussing the matters of prophecy and the arcane. Luca shared what he had learned from experimenting with the Lyrium crystals and gave one to Emrys to boost his magic in case of an emergency.

Third Day, Second Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

Just like the previous night the moons are largely obscured be thick, angry clouds from inside which lightning flickers. Occasionally the lightning bursts through the clouds to the outside, where it dances and plays along the bottom of the clouds, and streaks across the sky like angry, jabbing fingers. Thunder no longer rumbles in the distances but now cracks loudly overhead. Rain drizzles down in waves as the wind blows in.

The sky is the colour of dark purple, as the Bloodmoon and the Darkmoon light up everything around you whenever the clouds part. Like the night that Luca and James met Kalindras the procyon scout and fought against Liliana, everything is awash in a constricting, purple glow. The Silvermoon is in slow ascent and occasionally tries to provide relief, but never long enough or strong enough to inspire you against the foreboding of its siblings.

When the sounds of screeching and howling start again, much closer and much clearer this time, strange shapes and shadows can be seen against the dark and purple clouds, like colonies of overgrown bats streaking across the sky. Whenever lightning strikes you are affording flashes of detail of the figures flying overhead; images of maws and claws, of spikes and talons, of maddening sadness and terrifying wickedness too horrifying for your minds to entertain.

This time there are other sounds and images, too. Those which your mind is all too eager to focus on. Of the alabaster feathers of majestic griffons and the blue and steel of the knights that sit astride them. They streak across the sky like lightning, vigorously engaging the dark shapes with a heroism and confidence that you have a hard time fathoming.

High above the lake, the two cavalcades clash. Fire and radiance, steel and claw. All against the backdrop of the Night of Violet Eyes.

Before dawn, the adventurers get up and prepare to go and search for the tower while the darkness outside is the home to terrifying images. They decide to redistribute some of the healing potions that they liberated from the Alfred Barnaby’s Concoctions and Decoctions back in Bournemouth. Emrys also took possession of the fire breath potion. When they were finally ready, they went out into the darkness, meeting up with a visibly shaken Hejduk at the bridge across the river.

After crossing the river the group ventured north along the western shores of lake Llygad, seeing roving parties of strange monsters and patrolling parties of armoured knights. When the group stumbled close to a group of knights, James decided to throw a rock at them in order to see whether they would respond, half expecting the rock to pass through them as if they were a spectral image. To his surprise, they did respond, calling out a challenge James had heard before in the catacombs beneath Lynnecombe; “Decerte!”

He remembered that Ser Arman de Courtenay called that out to the knights he lead in pursuit of the skaven, and they responded with “Adversa!” And so James said just that, with as much conviction as he could muster. When he did, the knights looked visibly relieved and lowered their weapons to approach the group.

There were three knights, two in the vermilion-adorned armour of the Order of the Shield, and one was wearing the lapis lazuli coloured armour of the Order of the Gryphon. They were accompanied by two others; a male dwarf and a female elf, both armed and moving with the confidence of experience warriors.

While one of the knights of the Order of the Shield was a towering individual standing at a height to rival that of Lord Marcus Sheridan, the real shock came when the knight of the Order of the Gryphon removed his helmet to reveal the face the adventurers had only seen hours before; this was a less gaunt version of the tracker in the witch’s hut. Healthy and strong. He introduced himself as Ser Edrick and ordered them to go back to the expedition camp, taking them for camp followers.

The adventurers watched the knights and their armsmen move off back into the darkness and decided to hide out until the violent storm and strange clash of cavalcades had passed. They waited until dawn started to appear on the horizon, forcing the strange purple glow of the Night of Violet Eyes to make way for the orange glow of a new day. The group made their way to the shorelines and waited.

As the storm slowly subsides and the sky in the east starts to lighten with the coming of the dawn, you are left with a chill in the core of your stomach, caused by the bizarre events of the last few hours. You watch as the first rays of sunshine start the crest the eastern hills and hit the surface of Lake Llygad. The shimmering reflection of the sun momentarily forces you to squint your eyes and the warmth of the light softens the ill feeling in your belly. You briefly close your eyes to enjoy the sun and listen to the lapping of water up against the shore.

You open your eyes again as you hear water start to rush in retreat, reminding you of the sound of the rift you once heard in the catacombs beneath Lynnecombe. You watch as out on the lake, at about a hundred paces away from shore, you see a huge maelstrom appear with at its centre a dark, cavernous drop, leading who-knows-where.

At the edges of the maelstrom several figures have risen from the lake. They have a faintly humanoid shape, only much larger, standing at the height of two normal men. Their bodies are made of coursing water, roiling inside of them. They don’t seem to have any legs, nor a head, but they hold their arms aloft their burly torso and you notice the glint of thick, golden bracers at their wrists.

Suddenly, you see the battlements of a stone tower arise from the centre of the maelstrom. It rises up faster and faster as it reaches high in the sky, revealing its blood stained walls. When it stops rising, it stands at the height of twenty men, surrounded by a stone, protective wall. A rampart leads up from the water to an opening in the front of the wall.

The bodies of hundreds of people have been nailed to the surface of the tower and its protective wall. Some of the figures are writhing in pain, moaning and howling from the agony. Some have missing appendages; bloody stumps where their limbs used to be. Sometimes you see limbs impaled on spikes without an attached body. Some bodies are strung up by their own entrails. A row of heads line the top of the wall.

The figures with the golden manacles sink back into the water as the maelstrom stops spinning and the water once against comes to rest. You notice that just below the surface of the lake, a causeway leads up to the rampart.

Gathering the necessary courage, the adventurers, together with the szygan Hejduk, started to make their way across the causeway. Luca was struck with a sudden doubt and Emma had to call upon the calming rituals of Mother Sedna for Luca to regain his confidence. Trailing behind the others, Emma and Luca ran across the causeway, almost slipping on the wet stones and skidding into the water. Luckily they made it in time to go through the large front door before the tower once again disappeared and was swallowed up by the lake.

Inside the to circular tower the adventurers were confronted by a wide open floor, comfortably decorated with chairs around the hearth, a large dining table surrounded by sturdy, high-backed chairs, and walls lined with well-maintained suits of armour lining the wall, polished to a high sheen and playfully reflecting the dozens of candles set in the chandelier above the dining table. Above the mantle hung a large portrait of a balding man wearing an opulent, red, ermine-trimmed robe.

On the left of the chimney was a trapdoor leading down, on the right of the chimney was a set of wooden beams set into the wall to form a staircase ending at another trapdoor in the ceiling.

The adventurers looked around and found two curious, crystal rods, one blue, one red, on either side of a bowl overflowing with fresh fruit. They also found that the trapdoor seemed to be sealed by two sets of three small crystals. One set were all clear, the other blue, red and blue again. James and Luca immediately started to experiment using the crystal rods on the clear crystals, which changed colour whenever they touched them. They thought that they would have to turn the clear crystals to the same pattern as the coloured, example crystals, but it turned out to be more complicated than they thought.

A Simple Lock of Hair

Previously, the adventurers arrived in Pinefall and made their way around the area, meeting various people. They found that Lord Destan had arrived in the village of Bristlecone and had been a guest at a prominent farm until going on an expedition with his guards, the local dog breeder and a tracker from the neighbouring community of Hunter’s Hollar. Rides later three survivors of the expedition were found outside of Bristlecone. It was Destan’s guard Jenna, who died soon after, the dog breeder, who had lost his mind, and the tracker who was unconscious and taken to the witch for healing. The witch was unwilling to give the adventurers access to the tracker in her care until James parted with a lock of his hair, which he refused. A trip to Hunter’s Hollar revealed that Destan had come to them for aid in finding the Crimson Tower, but all of them refused. They could not explain who the tracker was in the care of the witch further deepening the mystery.

Tenth Day, First Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

The adventurers found themselves at the abandoned village once again after having explored the shores of Lake Llygad in search for any sign that Lord Destan and his expedition may have left behind. Having found not a trace, and having been spotted by the szygani, the group decided that some of them would approach the travellers. Emma, Emrys and Luca decided to head towards the caravans, while James and Astrid sat down between the wild sorghum to have themselves an adult beverage.

The broad-shouldered, mustachioed szygan that the adventurers had heard playing the violin upon arrival introduced himself as Tibor. He seemed friendly but a little bit apprehensive of the adventurers, but he introduced his wife Selina and his children, Dimmi and Danika. Selina offered the adventurers some small bites of sausage, bread, butter and salt while Tibor offered small glasses of plum liquor.

The others szygani were Hejduk, who was explained to be the group’s “guide” and interpreter of the signs of Maškar, and Mikula and her three daughters Mira, Kezia and Lavinia.

While the conversation turned more amicable between the three adventurers and the szygani, Tibor asked whether or not the James and Astrid would be interested in coming to join everyone. When they arrived, drinks and food were offered, and James was very keen on getting his hands on some of the plum brandy. He found out that the szygani did not create the drink themselves, but had bartered for it to the south, before coming to Pinefall. Their supply was not endless, but James managed to get his hands on eight bottles of the liquor, paying a hefty sum of two crowns and five stags for them. The bottles disappeared into his bag with ease, one by one.

Tibor explained that they had arrived in Pinefall not so long ago, following Hejduk’s interpretation of the signs that Maškar was giving him. He told about the tension between the szygani and the villagers of Bristlecone and about how Drummond came to that tension and explain a few things.

When Luca went to have a conversation with the mysterious, pony-tailed Hejduk, who had been observing Tibor talk to the adventurers, Emrys decided to start playing his lute. He played a cheerful, upbeat tune that Tibor could easily follow with his violin. Together they played and Mikula sent her daughters to dance around the bonfire. James noticed that Mikula’s daughters were probably well-versed in the art of distracting people with their dance, especially men with a fat purse.

Hejduk turned out to be as wary and apprehensive as Tibor initially was, but never eased up. Luca and he spoke about esoteric matters including Maškar, magic, the Circle of Mages and about Luca’s staff. Hejduk explained that he was not formally trained and that he had picked up some tricks along his travels, mostly from other szygani.

When the sun was going down the adventurers headed back to Bristlecone, just in time for them to catch Harm the shepherd, the vulgar and impulsive Volker and Gillian, one of the spinsters with a joy for drink. James ingratiated himself with the Rudwick hands using the newly acquired plum brandy and as time wore on one by one people turned in for the night.

The adventurers found their cottages hot and humid and cleverly made use of their ability to chill water and objects in order to cool themselves down in order to go to sleep.

First Day, Second Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

The following day Luca woke up in the middle of the night from the terrible warmth and humidity in the cabin. The magical means by which the adventurers had cooled the cabin had long since worn off, turning the cabin into a steam room as hot as the Sacred Baths of Sedna in Kingsport. Emrys and James were still vast asleep. He felt the urge to go outside and there he was confronted by his master.

Standing in the middle of the guest cabins, impressively tall with that strange, wasp-like waist, he foretold that Luca would be making an important journey and that on that journey he would have a chance to find important books. He would have to find information on the whereabouts of Tharizdun the Mad God. This would be the way in which Luca could repay his master for all the power his master had bestowed on him. He would also be gifted a boon; upon completion, Luca would be allowed to ask one question which his master would answer honestly.

Before that, however, Luca would have to help “another who serves” who was close by. Luca would have to find a way for “the other who serves” to go along with Luca in order to complete a very important task. Luca thought of Hejduk the szygan. With that understanding, his master bent down on those powerful legs and jumped up into the air like an arrow from a bow, disappearing in a streak in the clouds high above. Luca went back to the cabin to ponder the interaction.

James woke up with a terrible itch on the strange mark he had on the inside of the right hand. He had incurred the mark on that strange night he struggles to remember, before being found in the catacombs underneath Lynnecombe. He remembered flashes of being in the Sheridan library, riffling through their book collection when something happened in a hot flash of light, leaving him with that strange burn mark on his hand. It was that burn mark that Ser Benten mentioned when he urged James to go and find his companions and set off to return Lord Destan, ” since it is his mark you bear, after all.”

It was before dawn that everyone awoke to set out before the first rays of sunlight would crest the hills in the east, hoping to discover some clue about the poem that they recovered from the Bournemouth academy library. The adventurers had considered that the poem was a riddle to find and gain entrance to the Crimson Tower, but so far they had little to corroborate this theory. The Night of Violet Eyes was drawing closer and perhaps they might catch a glimpse of the tower.

As the adventurers started on their walk towards the lake they followed Harm the shepherd and his flock and sheep along the road, across the bridge and toward the lake. He expertly guided the flock with the help of two expertly trained dogs, likely from Robart’s kennel, through an series of intricate whistles and noises.

The conversation came around to the poem they had found in Bournemouth and in particular to the line “The white eye is to be explored.” The adventurers were unsure what this “white eye” was referring to, and they assumed that it was likely the lake.

Having found no traces of the crimson tower as the sun rose above the hills in the east the adventurers returned back to Rudwick’s farm where they enjoyed a nice breakfast. During that time they decided upon a plan to go and talk to Gregory, a local bee farmer, and Drummond, an armsman who retired to Bristlecone after serving in the Order of the Gryphon.

Gregory and Elora turned out to be a delightful older couple living in Bristlecone in a large cabin. They found Gregory in his garden tending to one of the several beehives while Elora was on the other side of the cabin tending to a vegetable garden. The adventurers sat down with them in the shade of a large tree in their garden and enjoyed some of the mead that the couple created from all the honey they farmed from the hives.

The conversation was pleasant but revealed little interesting information. The adventurers found out that the abandoned village had been abandoned for several generations, and they found out that “the white eye” referred to Lake Llygad, which used to be called Llyn Gwenllygad, which translated to “Lake of the White Eye” in an archaic dialect of the elven language spoken in the area long ago.

While the conversation with the old couple was winding down the adventurers noticed Isobel coming up the road, riding a large, black hog, making for an outrageous sight. She stopped in front of Gregory’s garden and asked to speak to James. She reiterated her offer to allow the adventurers access to the tracker in her care. Her price was unchanged; a lock of James’ hair. She did, however, up her ante, saying that she would reveal more about the curious mark on the palm of James’ right hand. James did not agree to the deal and with a smirk Isobel once again mounted her black hog and calmly rode it away.

After that strange encounter, the adventurers said their goodbyes to Gregory and Elora and went to visit Drummond. They found the barrel-chested man in front of his cabin. Their conversation ranged from the recently arrived szygani to the mobilisation of the Bristlecone villagers against the possible threats that the adventurers had seen on their way over from Allenham.

Most importantly, they spoke about Lord Destan and his expedition, particularly about the three who returned. Drummond explained that it was Vulgar Volker who found the Sheridan guard Jenna, Robart and the tracker just north of the bridge on the other side of the river. Drummond was one of the first people to be brought to the scene to help out. Jenna was alive then but had an awful gash in her side and she succumbed to her wounds near the bridge. Robart was carrying the tracker and was raving like a lunatic before his mind collapsed when they reached the bridge.

After the conversation with the retired armsman, the adventurers headed back to the abandoned village. They had previously spotted some abandoned items and the szygani had told them that quite a few interesting things were still around, so they decided to take a look and see if they could find out a reason why the village was abandoned all that time ago.

Rummaging through the village, they ended up finding a chest full of well-preserved linen fabrics hidden away underneath a thick copse of ivy, a dried leather pouch hidden behind a loose stone of a chimney holding eight heavily oxidised copper coins, two worn silver coins and a well-preserved gold crown with the face of King Philip the Tenacious on it. King Philip famously survived an assassination attempt during the Beauclair occupation on the night of Midinváerne in 1068 at Gryphon’s Roost, the nearby home of the Order of the Gryphon.

The real prize find was a scroll case with a collection of papers, together constituting a journal of sorts.The legible papers read the following:

Third Day, First Ride, Summer Flame, 1187

As predicted, tonight is the Night of the Three Eyes. Last year the Night of the Three Eyes was during the second ride of Winter Deep and therefore less terrifying. It’s the long summer nights that make the night worse on the shores of Llyn Gwenllygad. The year before all three eyes stayed closed. And the year before that it was two days before Highharvestide. Soren has said that if the cavalcade came once more from the Roost we will leave Pinefall for good.

Seventh Day, Second Ride, Summer End, 1187

Tomorrow we are leaving the only home we have ever known. Soren has promised that Fairfields might be far, but that there will be work, there will be people, and we won’t have to relive the slaughter or get woken up by the screams any longer. Soren can work the fields, and I can work the quill.

Ves and Steffen will stay. They believe folk like us won’t survive without the protection of Lady Llyn. Soren says that if the lady cared for us Ves would still have her own hair colour, and would still be able to talk.

I wonder who will live in our hut.

Welcome to Pinefall

Previously, the adventurers spent several days in the wilderness between Allenham and Pinefall, encountering a wounded knight of the Order of the Lance, battling a hill giant and his two dire wolves, and watching a curious bear snack on very hallucinogenic mushrooms. Eventually, the adventurers arrived in Pinefall.

Tenth Day, First Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

An hour or two after the adventurers continued their journey towards Pinefall they crested the final hill which lead down into the Pinefall valley. At the centre of the valley they saw Lake Llygad, glistening in the morning sun. The noticed several gentle plumes of smoke coming from beneath the trees at the southern shore of the lake and confirmed, with the map that Falka had found for them at the Bournemouth Academy, that these must be coming from Bristlecone village.

As they walked westwards down a path that seemed more and more trodden, heading towards the eastern part of the lake, the suddenly heard a melancholic tune being played on a violin. The woods opened up to the north of the path to reveal a long abandoned village, with cabins and huts whose thatched roofs had collapsed and rotten away, with warped support beams and crumbling dry brick chimneys. Parts of the village had been reclaimed by the woods, with small trees growing through the huts and Lyrian ivy overgrowing much of the gardens and fences. The violin tune seemed to come from the far side of the village, near some fields between the houses and the lakes.

In between the abandoned fields, where wild sorghum grew, hemmed in by weeds covered brick fencing, a group of szygani had parked their colourful caravans in a circle around a bonfire, its pit created by the loose bricks from the crumbling chimneys of the abandoned village.

When the adventurers revealed themselves the szygani stopped what they were doing and brought their children inside. They did not approach, weary of the strangers appearing near their camp. The adventurers recalled their last encounter with the travellers at the Inn at the Crossroads and their pledge not to be taken in by them again, so they decided to leave the abandoned village, leave the szygani, and not engage with them. Emrys, ever the personable guy, waved a friendly hello, which was met by a timid wave from the man playing the violin.

The adventurers followed the road which headed south, around the lake, before curving westward once again along the southern shore of the lake. The passed by a small junction of a trail leading off into the woods. Their map revealed that the trail would lead to a pond a hut belonging to a witch. The remained on the path and followed along a bog between them and the lake. It was at this point that it was noticed that one of the szygani was following the group at a distance. James decided to fall back and out of sight, and waited patiently for the szygani to pass him by.

He noticed that the szygani was a lanky man with a black pony tail, carrying a dagger on one hip, and a curious satchel with macabre trinkets on his other hip. He had not noticed James, who couldn’t resist giving the man a fright as he passed him by casually. The szygani, obviously startled, cast a quick warding spell in reaction to James popping up along side him, and promptly apologised and headed back to his camp.

The sounds of civilisation came closer and closer. They spotted more and more houses through the trees, cabins and huts with neat, thatched roofs and vegetable gardens around them. Squealing pigs, honking geese and bleating sheep could be heard, as well as the rhythmic pounding of a hammer on an anvil. A small herd of sheep was being shepherded along the road by a man making whistling sounds to an expertly trained sheepdog, corralling the animals along.

One of the first houses the group passed was a large cabin with a fenced off field at the side and rear of it where a large group of barking dogs. They were in excellent shape and obviously well tended to. The pack consisted of a mixture of two types; sleek and dark hunting dogs, and shaggy sheepdogs.

An older lady with a neatly tied bun and tidy clothing was standing off to one side with one of the dogs, running the dog through training drills. When she noticed the adventurers she came over to the fence, the dog obediently glued to her left side. She introduced herself as Coranthe, one of the elders of the village. She could proudly confirm that Lord Destan had arrived in Pinefall and had met with almost every villager.  He claimed the purpose of his visit was to assess the estate for his families holdings. He had been staying at the Rudwick Barton, to the south of the village and had gone on an expedition with her son Robart.

She could also tell that the szygani had only recently arrived in Pinefall and had taken up residence in the field just outside of the abandoned village. They had flouted the local customs of not bathing, swimming, sailing, fishing or taking water from the lake and it had come to blows with certain villagers until Drummond, an old retired armsman in the Order of the Gryphon had talked to them and reestablished the peace. The lake was the home of a benevolent spirit called Lady Llyn, who was not to be crossed. Coranthe described her as a woman with a blue robe, wearing golden bracelets.

It was almost a month later when Robart, a guard Jenna and a tracker had been found outside of town on the opposite side of the river. Robart had lost his mind, Jenna had succumbed to her wounds, and the tracker was unconscious and had yet to wake up. Jenna had been buried, Robart had been brought home, and the tracker had been brought to Isobel the witch. It was clear that Coranthe despised the witch.

Lord Destan and his other two guards were still missing and Coranthe feared for the worst. Her son, Robart, was being tended to by their family, but he had shown no signs of improvement. James convinced Coranthe to allow Emma to have a look at him, explaining that she was a priestess with miraculous healing abilities. Coranthe seemed overjoyed at the prospect to have a priestess of Sedna tend to her son, and immediately went inside the house to open the door for the adventurers. Astrid decided to stay outside with Theo.

Inside, Coranthe introduced the adventurers to Ila, Robart’s young wife, and their three children, Loke, Millie and Penny who was still an infant. Luca and Emma were brought into a separate room where Robart, a strong looking man, was sitting on a bed in what smelled like his own urine. His stare was vacant and he didn’t respond to anything, but would allow people to move him and shift him, and he would occasionally move and shift of his own accord. Sometimes he would make a strange moaning sound. Luca, using Blackstar’s ability to detect souls for it to consume, found that Robart was an empty vessel, devoid of a soul. The staff immediately lost interest in the man.

When Luca shared his findings with Emma, after sending Ila away to get them water so that they may clean up Robart, Emma feigned a ritual to make the family feel better, but she knew she couldn’t be of help to the poor man. Upon departure from the hut, Ila said she would talk to Lem Rudwick as well as old Gregory who was a retired man who spent his time operating a honey farm and making mead. They might have a place for the adventurers to stay.

The adventurers decided to first visit the Rudwick Barton and so headed further into town, but not before being accosted by Millie, who was adamant that the adventurers should have a group name. The adventurers deferred to her judgement, and she promised she would think about a suitable name.

The people they met seemed friendly and they quickly came upon a path heading south. As they went south the noticed that grazing pastures were on either side of the road, filled with sheep, goats and other animals. Thick tufts of white wool were floating on the breeze as they came closer to a large farm consisting of several buildings. In front of the main building sat four ladies behind spinning wheels, turning stuffed bags of wool into carefully spun threads.

The man that came to introduce himself was Lem Rudwick, and he welcomed the adventurers to his farm. He was quick to introduce his wife Martha, who was one of the spinners and introduce the rest of his family; his second son Cas and wife Ann, as well as the widow of his first son Mack, who was killed by a skirmish with orcs several years previous. His wife had no family left, so they adopted her. Her name was Josey.

Lem offered the adventurers lodgings behind the main building; small cabins that were inhabited by the help that he employed on his farm. He was also persuaded to show the adventurers the guest house where Lord Destan had stayed. This was a much larger cabin further away from the smell of the barns. Inside, they found clothing, some mundane items, but also several crystal vials with water in them as well as ink, parchment, quills, a simple map of Pinefall including some sophisticated cartography tools, a very expensive spy glass, as well as a severed, petrified hand with stubs of candles set on the tips of each finger. Luca revealed that the hand was faintly magical, imbued with necromantic and divination magics.

When the crystal vials of water were revealed, Lem seemed shocked and displeased. When asked about his reaction, he was fearful that the water had been retrieved from the lake and he was adamant that he wanted to return the water before Lady Llyn’s anger would fall over his household. He, like Coranthe, believed that Lady Llyn was a very real spirit, but he claimed he had never seen her himself, but knew of people who had. When the adventurers concluded that the vials were likely containing water they handed them over to Lem so he could dispose of them in accordance to his beliefs.

In the meantime, James searched for hiding places and found that behind the bed, on a small nail, hung a delicate silver necklace with a sapphire pendant shaped in a figure eight. The adventurers concluded that this pendant was wholly consistent with the symbols of masks they had seen on the Sheridan estate.

Lem locked the guest house back up and escorted the adventurers to the cabins they had been assigned, handing them two keys. The cabin that was assigned to Astrid and Emma revealed some belongings from the Sheridan guard, Jenna. They found a leather string with an amethyst pendant, similarly shaped in a figure eight.

The adventurers decided to take some time to rest up, having been on their feet for well over three days. During that time Josey came to bring them some supper and said not to hesitate if they needed anything. Emma took her time to reflect on her relationship with the enigmatic Muirgheal. A sense of foreboding had never quite lifted ever since she bonded with the weapon, and she felt it was time to break that bond.

Once the adventurers were rested they decided to pay the witch a visit. When they arrived at the hut, they saw that three villagers had come to the witch’s cabin to ask her for her help with a dying cow. Isobel, an alluring woman in her middle ages with blond grey hair, a loose dress and a wide-brimmed straw hat, her neck decorated with several necklaces, reluctantly promised them some herbs which needed to be boiled with water from the river at midnight and given to the cow, but only after the stables had been thoroughly cleaned.

After the frightened villagers had left, Isobel turned to ask what the adventurers were seeking. They wanted to know more about the man that was in her care and what his condition was. She revealed that he was unconscious and had not been awake. She could nudge him to accept some food and water, but having been in this state for a month, she was fearful that he was not long for this world. When the adventurers asked her more questions, she refused without being properly compensated. James asked her what kind of compensation she would require, and she said she would want a lock of his hair.

Understandably surprised and suspicious of her demand, James refused and in return she refused them access to the tracker or to answer any more questions. James was not to be convince to part with a lock of his black hair and so the adventurers departed without much more knowledge than what they arrived with. Luca stayed back for a moment to see if he could persuade the witch, but she was not open to any counter offer.

It was decided to make the trek across the river towards Hunter’s Hollar, a small settlement in the woods to the west. So once again the adventurers made their way through the village and made their way across the bridge meeting some hunters on their way home to Bristlecone with their bounty for that day; a beautiful deer.

After more than an hour of walking along a small path through ever denser woods, the adventurers arrived at a group of huts in the middle of the woods. A collection of very diverse people were going about their business. Some were butchering a deer, another was working some leather, while others were tending to a communal pen of boar. They saw an elf, a dwarf, a halfling and several humans.

A man with a unusually delicate moustache and pointed goatee came walking up to them and introduced himself as Frederick. He carried himself with sophistication and his accent betrayed his Daerlan origin. When the adventurers made clear they were after information about Lord Destan he brought them to the two hunters who had refused Lord Destan’s service; Bogdan and Arnout.

Bogdan proved to be a Fulham hulk with a bald head and a brutish cauliflower ear on one side of his head. Arnout was a dark hair man, tall and slender, who mostly kept silent and let Bogdan do the talking. Bogdan explained that they had spoken to Lord Destan and that he wanted them to accompany him on his search for the Crimson Tower, something that neither man was interested in participating in. They had heard the wails and screeches on warm summer nights and didn’t think anything good would come from looking for the tower.

When asked about Lady Llyn, the spirit of the lake, Bogdan admitted that he had seen something that looked like the descriptions that others had given, but that he didn’t believe that the spirit was that of a woman. He believed that it looked more like that of a large, cresting fish.

When the matter of the injured tracker in the care of the witch came up, none of the people the adventurers spoke to at Hunter’s Hollar could confirm that they knew who he was. They claimed that whoever he was, it wasn’t one of theirs, since Lord Destan had left with Robart and his guards without their aid.

Deflated by the dead ends they had encountered they started back for Bristlecone village and talked about how to proceed next. The matter of the lock of hair demanded by the witch came up once more, and in a bout of uncharacteristic frustration, Emma rebuked James for being willing to pay Isobel’s price, claiming it was no more than a way for her to intimidate the group.

In turn, James, in an uncharacteristic bout of honesty admitted that he had grown up in a place where trust is hard to come by and that despite having been dependent on one another in some precarious situations since meeting, he still didn’t fully trust his companions, let alone a wood witch whom he had met only that day.

Before crossing the bridge across the river into Bristlecone, the adventurers decided they would spend the last remaining hours walking all around the lake to see if they were able to spot the remnants of an encampment left behind by Lord Destan and his companions. After having crossed the incoming river from the north using a ritual that Emma had prepared which allowed them to miraculously walk across water as if it was a solid surface, they once again arrived back at the abandoned village, in sight of the szygani camp.

It was late in the day, and unfortunately, the adventurers had learned much less about the fate of Lord Destan than they had hoped to have learned.

Through the Silverpine Hills

Previously, the adventurers travelled from Allenham, through the Riverlands, on their way to Pinefall. The came across a village where they got directions, a hamlet which had been attacked by monsters, a strange murder of crows, a stag with a demonic looking creature having burst out from within in. Some of these encounters were strange, but none more so than meeting a grievously wounded knight, alone in the wilderness but for his wounded horse, who gave a confusing recount of who he was and why he was so wounded, before ageing rapidly and ultimately perishing.

Eighth Day, First Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

While Astrid started gathering enough stones to create a proper burial mound for Ser Florianus’ remains, Emma asked Emrys to mend his shield and gorget. Emma took the shield with her, thinking it might be of use later on, while the gorget was used as a grave marker once Astrid was done putting Florianus to rest. James took a moment to go through the rest of the equipment that Ser Florianus had on him when he died, hoping to find something of use, but unfortunately the only things among his belongings were mundane items and trinkets.

The adventurers had found a ring of crystals around a small crater of molten slag from which Ser Florianus had supposedly emerged. Luca tried to harvest some of the crystals from the slag, but found it very difficult to extract one without damaging them. He managed to retrieve a small purple crystal but chipped it while doing so. He tried to use it for a very simple illusion spell, but it didn’t seem to work like the orange crystals from the catacombs below Lynnecombe did. James, much more nimble of fingers managed to extract seven small crystals of different colours from the slag.

The adventurers travelled onwards and a conversation started about the strange encounter they had with Ser Florianus. James feared that Bristlecone might already be affected by what is happening there where Floranius claimed he came from. Especially his mentioning of Ser Benten confused them, and they wondered aloud whether it’s possible that the Sheridans have been around since the Age of Fear. They realised they only had a few more days before the Darkmoon would stand in high sanction, and Luca realised that it would be the Night of Violet Eyes, a rare night where both the Bloodmoon and the Darkmoon would stand in high sanction.

After finding a small stream with mountain fresh water, the adventurers set up camp and bedded down for the night, deciding not to light a fire because the light would travel much further in these woods than it did in the woods of the Riverlands.

Ninth Day, First Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

During the night, James found that he couldn’t keep his eyes open during his guard shift with Astrid. The Silverpine hills were putting a heavy strain on his calves, and the higher exposure to the sun meant he and the rest had caught a bit of a sunburn, further taxing his system. Eventually, Astrid told him to rest and she would finish the rest of the shift on her own, an offer he gladly accepted.

The night went by without any incidents even though packs of wolves could be heard howling in the distance. Luca wondered whether Astrid’s golden yellow eyes were a sign that she might have an affinity with wolves, who he believed shared that trait. The following morning Luca observed that Astrid seemed more fascinated by the eagles and birds of prey flying high above the hills than she was with any wolves.

Emma implored Sedna to send a message of warning down the rivers, streams, brooks and rivulets, to Tom of Shady Brook, telling him about the fate that befell the people at the hamlet of Calvin’s farm. He responded that he appreciated the warning and that he would remain at Shady Brook but prepare for any attack. His response was swift and confident, further confirming the suspicion that Tom was more than a simple farmer.

Several hours after continuing their trek through the valleys of the southern Silverpines, the adventurers encountered a narrow valley exit, flanked on either side by high, steep walls. It was guarded by a towering hill giant and his two dire wolves. The hill giant was eating part of a large elk bull and entertaining himself throwing scraps to the dire wolves and watching them fight over it. He and his two animals were so preoccupied with this that they failed to notice the adventurers who therefore had ample time to prepare a solution for the conundrum the dangerous valley gate keeper was forming.

Since the adventurers had spotted a debris of bones, including humanoid bones, around the hill giant, they concluded that reasoning or bargaining with the brute was unlikely to yield any success, and thus it was decided to confront him en force, using the dreadful flute, newly acquired from Liliana’s lair, as an instrument to sow chaos among their foe. Emrys used his sorcery to shrink one of the two dire wolves down to the size of a regular wolf, and James played the dreadful flute, while Astrid and Emma engaged in melee and Luca sent bolt after angry bolt of eldritch energy into action.

They dispatched with the giant and his wolves in record time and took a short break to recover from the adrenaline and search through the giant’s belongings. James found some beautifully crafted, studded leather vambraces, while Astrid decided not to let the elk meat go to waste.

After resting up the adventurers continued on until the sun began to sink lower on the western horizon. The picked a high spot to take another look at their progress and orient themselves against the landmarks which were provided to them. They were likely only a couple of hours away from Bristlecone, but decided not to push it and make up camp.

While doing so, the adventurers noticed a large, grizzly bear rutting around the base of a nearby tree. It was far enough away for the adventurers not to feel immediately threatened, but too far away to make out what the bear was doing. They did notice that the bear had an odd mark on its flank, that of a circle with a crescent moon over it.

When the bear eventually departed some of the adventurers went to investigate the tree that the bear was rutting around and found a large growth of mushrooms there, many of them munched on by the bear. Luca, who had experience with mushrooms, knew them as ghost mushrooms and understood them to be toxic and a strong hallucinogenic. Emma could add that they were often used by Kaedwyni druids for rituals of communion. James, Luca and Emma decided to harvest some of the mushrooms and take them along with them.

That night the watch was arranged in a different way than normally. Luca and Emma would take the first watch, James and Emrys would share the second watch, while Astrid would take the third watch by herself.

Tenth Day, First Ride, Summer Flame, 1262

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

During the first watch, Emma decides to take some of the mushrooms while Luca observes to make sure that she is alright. Soon after chewing down the earthy and acrid fungus she started to notice that the sparks and embers from the campfire started to leave wonderfully coloured trails and traces and that everything around her started to glow with a radiant, multi-coloured light. She tried to step out of her own body and was surprised that she could look down at herself, Luca and the rest of the camp.

She wandered away from the camp, towards where the bear had been eating the mushrooms, delighted at how colourful everything looked, despite the darkness. She returned to the spot and decided to see whether she could follow the tracks the bear may have left, finding that the tracks looked like small pools of radiant water. She followed them all the way to a small clearing on the side of a hill. On the opposite end of the clearing that was a small cave entrance that the tracks lead towards and she decided to enter.

As Emma got closer to the cave’s entrance, it grew larger and larger in size, until it was tower over her higher than the giant had been. She continued into the cavernous depths of the entrance and felt she was stepping onto water. Darkness was all around her, except for the entrance behind her which looked once again small and very far away. She bent down and dipped her fingers in the water and put them to her mouth, tasting the salty flavour of the sea.

For a moment she turned back and decided to head out of the cave and back to camp, until she started hearing a clear, female voice sing that same song that she had heard Muirgheal sing, the sea shanty about Admiral Karadin and his treacherous daughter Rhosyn. Finding her bravery she turned back around and ventured deeper into the cave until she finally saw a huge ship. A galleon. A warship. It’s sails were ragged and it ropes were ragged. Approaching it she found a rope ladder hanging along its side, which she began to climb. All the while she heard the song, Daughter of the Sea, being sung.

On deck Emma found the corpses of sailors who had died during a violent battle. She oriented herself and decided to head up to the rear deck, ascending a set of stairs. There she found a figure standing at the rudder, wearing a bright, blue cloak. All the while singing the last verses of the song. Emma approached and called out, “Rhosyn?” but was met with silence.

As she raised her arm to remove the blue hood from the person standing at the rudder, Emma heard a verse she had not heard before, more troublesome and haunting than the verses before;

I heard, I heard, across a moonlit sea,
The old voice warning me,
“Beware, beware the Daughter of the Sea”,
“Beware, beware…”
…of me.

Emma removed the hood to reveal a beautiful woman with blond hair and a fair face. When the woman looked up and Emma’s eyes met hers the woman’s hand shot out and grabbed Emma by the throat so fast that Emma’s consciousness was brought all the way back to her body sitting across the campfire from Luca.

Luca and Emma spoke about what Emma had seen and what it might have meant. The rest of the night went by without incident, but the next morning Emma convinced everyone to spend a moment trying to find the clearing in the woods with the cave. They managed to find it, only to find that the cave was a small burrow to a very angry wolverine and not the cavernous hiding place of admiral Karadin’s flagship.

The journey continued, and by mid-morning, the adventurers found a the beginnings of a trail which quickly lead to spotting the first plumes of hearth fires in the distance. It seems their wilderness journey was coming to an end, and that Bristlecone might finally be in sight.