At the river...

Lethargy...

And I'll stick to it. Cayden Cailean would understand, and that's all the excuse one needs.

Absolution...

And this is why I write again. Cayden Cailean would demand it. For I have seen the dead rise, and yet it was not undead.

This I can not explain. I am a simple man, charged with a heavy burden, which only seems to grow more burdensome as I strive for simplicity. Ah, but I complain where I need not complain. Back to my story.

It has been long since I've written here, and I will not attempt to fill in the holes, it would only serve to confuse. Let me just say that I have been plagued with a man named Grigori. Some may call him silver tongued, and some may call him righteous. I might call him a pain in the ass. Plain and simple. Again...it's simplicity I strive for.

To make a lengthy story short, our group has ridden forth from Fort Drake with the intent to investigate the disappearance of several of our road wardens. We are yet a small barony, and as such, do not have the resources to lose good men. Besides, it's refreshing to get out of town and away from the yoke of rule.

As it stands I had made a decision to bring the man Grigori with us, feeling uneasy at leaving him behind to cause yet more unrest. For nothing we did was "just" in his eyes, and he was quick to let the good people of Fort Drake know his feelings on this. I also felt that if I didn't bring him along and show him EXACTLY what it was we were facing on the road, he would continue with his lies.

Turns out that Grigori is a talkative sort, surprise. He knows of all sorts of things that have gone on in this area. But the one thing that he spoke of to us was an astounding story of a "lizard king" named Sokatha. This is a tale we heard as children on the street. A story that was meant to frighten, to keep little ones out of nighttime trouble and under a parent's eye. Well, Grigori spoke as if this was more than a children's tale. It intrigued me, and to be truthful, it frightened me as well.

Once we had arrived at Nettle's Crossing (for this is where the missing band of Road Wardens were bound for) it was immediately obvious that something was amiss. A fog had lifted off of the river and obscured the basin, but that was not strange in and of itself, for winter was descending quickly upon us. No, it was that there wasn't a sound in the air...just the gurgling of the dark water moving over rocks and around roots.

Not only was it the cessation of all sound, but there was a feeling in the air, as if something was waiting....patiently. We stood at the crest of the hill and surveyed the area, but nothing moved. There was no sign of the Wardens, and no sign of their horses. No smoke rose from the small cottage across the river, a sure sign in this weather that no one resided within.

The barge itself was across the way, but Ix pointed out that this would not be an issue, and with that he cast a spell upon me that caused me to float up into the air like down caught in the updraft of a fire! It was a strange, yet wonderful feeling. I could not guide myself but Ix took hold of me and rapidly flew across the cold waters, towards the silent dwelling upon the far shore.

Heavy mist barred our sight and obscured us from our companions on the now far shore behind us...As we approached I noticed a body laying up against the wall of the building. I pointed it out to Ix and he nodded, quite aware that we were likely flying into trouble.

While the mist cloaked our vision, it also muted sound so that things sounded very far away. There was a feeling of dread upon that shore, and neither of us felt the confidence to do more than accomplish the task which we set out to do; Get the barge and return to our comrades.

I grabbed the barge rope while Ix flew lookout, and pulled for all I was worth, working hard for the opposite shore.

Sweating hard, about midway, the water began to "boil" and bulge strangely. This is when I noticed that a figure had emerged from the woods, just beyond the shore we had so recently vacated. It sat astride some type of massive stag, and wore a crown, or helm of sorts that reminded me all to clearly of a horrid individual that we had only too recently cut loose from this mortal coil: The Stag Lord.

"This cannot be" I thought. But as he unslung his bow I knew for a fact, deep down inside, that it was he. Come back from the dead. Yet, as I surveyed him, I also knew the he did not move as the undead do. He did not act as the undead do. I believe that he is living, or at least he is not undead, as we know it.

Just as he drew bead upon us, two massive creatures made of ice and water, erupted from the river and rushed the barge.

I can not describe the battle any more than to say it was blood and chaos. We destroyed one of the odd creatures and drove the other away. But no without losses: Durvil and myself were nearly slain, and in the midst of it all we lost the barge. And the Stag Lord disappeared back into the woods without a scratch.

Exhausted, yet unwilling to vacate our purpose, we found a spot to rest away from the river and camped for the night. That evening Durvil, ever the brave and rash, went to the water's edge and called forth Derek Nettles. For it was to him that we had given the corpse of the Stag Lord to. Much to my surprise the ghost answered Durvil's challenge and appeared. He told us that the Stag Lord was taken from him by a powerful man. And that he would like the bridge rebuilt.

As he disappeared from view he gave us a token, his pole arm that he kept in life. A treasure indeed! This will be the weapon of the person in charge of the bridge in the future.

That night, the bitter cold chilled us to our bones, and the silence nearly drove us mad, but the wan morning light found all of us better rested and ready to investigate the far side.

Carefully crossing to the barge, which had lodged upon the rocks further downstream, we eventually restrung the rope and pulled our group across. All the while watching the water and edge of the woods with dread and trepidation.

But nothing untoward occurred and we made it across without mishap.

On the far side our newfound compatriot, Roon checked the ground carefully for clues while the rest of our group moved carefully around the area in search of clues as to the Warden's demise.

A few hours, and much sleuthing later, we had come up with a theory. Two things had happened here:

1. The original Wardens were killed by their own. This is difficult to puzzle out, but one, or more, were apparently mesmerized by a force of some type, and persuaded to slay their comrades. Ix tells me that this is a powerful force, no mere charm.
2. The next to arrive were slain straight away by arrows in the back as they entered the hut. After seeing the Stag Lord here, and knowing his facility w/ the bow, this is no surprise.

A few odd things were found as well:

• A bracelet of green hair. (Not the first one we've seen...The Stag Lord had one when he was alive.) When Durvil touched it, a vision of a beautiful green-haired woman screamed at him "This is NOT for you!!", and it burst into flame.
• Small tracks of some sort, leading the dead Stag Lord from the water to the trees in the distance.
• Nettles told us that a bird was seen sitting alone, at the same place several days in a row prior to the Stag Lord being stolen...a large raven. The Stag Lord's father, Nugrah, flew away from us in the form of such a bird.

And one note:

• Grigori is now the Councilor. Taking the place of Ivana, who didn't want it in the first place. Folly? Perhaps. We shall keep a close eye upon him, for he did confess to us (after Ix threatened to toast him where he stood) that he was indeed hired by someone north of us who wishes only to see our small barony fail. Who might this be? A follower of Gerona? Harley? Time will certainly tell.

Now we are finally back in Fort Drake, only taking the short time to gear up yet again in order to attempt to discover the force behind these latest killings that have plagued the locals.

Council and Laws

Charter Positions within the Realm of Restov:

High Council – Leaders of Restov, have the highest overall authority. They are the ultimate authority within their zone of influence. A High Council member may challenge the edicts of any other High Council member or a member of the Low Council. Any challenge may only be overturned with a majority vote of the High Council. Council positions are life appointments. Most members of the High Council are Sword Lords.

The Position of Prime Minister: the Prime Minister is 'first among equals'. He may make any decisions in proxy for any Council members who are not present or otherwise incapacitated. This includes votes during a trial. Only a majority vote by the High Council (including the accused) can bring a High Council member up on charges for any crime. After that a trial is held, and decision is rendered by the Prime minister. In the event the Prime Minister is the one being tried, the Councilor renders the decision. If convicted of a capital crime, a High Council member is removed from office and replaced by majority vote of the remaining high council. A High council member can only otherwise be removed by a 2/3 vote by the high council. A High Council member cannot abstain from voting.

Low Council – Secondary leaders of Restov. They may act in proxy for the members of the High Council. The Low Council is made up of the second in commands of all the High Council members who assist them in the execution of their duties and act with their authority in the matters of their Bailiwick. All Low Council members are Retainers of their respective Lords. They have the authority to give orders to anyone, besides a High Council member, within their bailiwick. A majority vote of either the High or Low Council can bear criminal charges against a member. Trial is held amongst the High Council members in a majority vote. A Low Council member is replaced by the immediate superior. A Low Council member can only otherwise be removed by a 2/3 vote by the High or Low Council. A ruling of the Low Council may be appealed to the High Council. A member from either council may abstain from voting.

Vassal – Land Holding Noble. Required to provide taxes based on their lands, and contribute retainers to military and civilian offices. Should someone wish to become a Vassal they must provide Restov with at least 2 hexes worth of land cleared and explored and have at least 100 retainers to provide administration and protection, as well as freemen to work and tend to the land. Each vassal must provide at least 25 retainers per landholding to military and civilian offices. A vassal has the right to bring charges before the High Council in case of any grievance. Such proceedings would be handled by the Prime Minister himself. A vassal may not be detained until the conclusion of such proceedings. A majority vote by the high council can grant claimed land controlled by the Restov (and not another vassal) to a citizen or retainer they deem as worthy of that honor. The individual then becomes a vassal with all the rights and responsibilities there in.

Retainer – Knights, Squires, and Quartermasters, who are beholden to a Vassal or Lord of the Council, and are required to perform services for Restov (according to their skill) when called upon. A retainer has the right to bring and face charges before the Councilor and a panel of his magistrates in case of any grievance, for a trial. A retainer may not be detained except on direct order of the High Council, or at the conclusion of such proceedings.

Citizen – In order to gain citizenship a freeman must give 5 years of military service, or 10 years of civilian service (under the non-military high council members such as Councilor or Head Diplomat) in order to gain citizenship. All citizens receive a piece of land sufficient to provide for a household, upon completion of their service. They may continue that service as long as they are able if they wish, or retire after the 5/10 year period. In case of any grievance a citizen has the right to bring it before one of the Councilor's Magistrates for a summary judgment. A citizen may only be detained by order of a Magistrate (or higher authority) or if they commit a crime directly witnessed by agents of the law (Marshal/Warden’s men).

Holder – Any Freeman skilled in a trade or of sufficient means can enter the service of a Lord or Vassal. In doing so they have the rights of a citizen when acting in the capacity of that service. In exchange they are considered part of the Lord or Vassals house and must pay a tithe to said Lord. This includes individuals such as merchants, members of guilds, or the individual owners of trade services (such as smiths, carpenters, or inn keepers). They must remain a part of their Lord or Vassal's house until an agreed-upon amount is paid to said Lord. In this way an individual may receive 'sponsorship' to become a citizen.

Steadholder - Any Citizen can be tasked by a Vassal or Lord to maintain and manage their lands. In relation to any issues that occur on the lands he is responsible for, a steadholder has the same rights as a retainer.

Freeman – Any person living within Restov. A freeman has the right to work and live on the lands of a noble (or Council Lords), and in return pay a tithe proportional to the kingdoms current tax rate. Any gouging of freeman (tithe being charged not in line with the current tax rate) will be punished by the seizing of lands held by that noble. All freemen have the right to leave the lands they are on at any time, but while there, must obey the rule of the Vassal or Lord who owns them. Freemen cannot themselves bring up charges to the court, however their Lords/Vassals can bring charges to the Magistrates in the name of any freeman residing on their lands. Vassals have the right and responsibility to enforce the Council’s Law on Freemen who occupy their lands.

Crimes upon the State of Restov:
Treason – Providing assistance, comfort, or information to enemies of Restov, and acting directly against it’s interests.
Sentence – Death, Permanent Imprisonment, Exile(this is reserved exclusively for people duped into treason).

Murder – Killing of another person within the bounds of Restov without justification.
Sentence – Death, Permanent Imprisonment .

Theft – Unlawful removal or destruction of property. This includes larceny, robbery, destruction of property, fraud, tax evasion, and corruption.
Sentence – Payment of value for removed/damaged property once to the victim and once to the crown (Nobles are responsible for this payment of their retainers/steadholders in the event they themselves cannot pay), and one of the following:
– Up to 10 years of indentured servitude in service of the victim. The accused can choose to instead pay the value of the years of labor instead. Should the accused not be able to pay the first part of the sentence, the value of that fine is also to be added to the term of servitude.
– Imprisonment of a term to be set by the presiding authority (this is reserved for repeat offenders).

Assault – Physical harm to any person or persons of Restov.
Sentence – Payment of any medical treatment required by the victim, and a matching payment to be made to the realm (anyone not able to pay must enter indentured servitude to work off the debt) as well as:
– Up to 5 years indentured servitude in service of the victim or
– Up to 10 years imprisonment set by the Presiding Authority.

Attempted Crimes – If it can be proven an individual attempted to commit a crime but was otherwise unsuccessful, they may be tried as if they had, in deed, committed the crime.

Restrictions to the above:
All rates and lengths of servitude are to be based on the prevailing wages of a worker of the charged individual's skill.
The victim has the right to determine the nature of the service the accused is to provide in the case of such a sentence. These services should coincide with the known skills of the accused, and are subject to judgment by the prevailing authority.
Time spent in indentured servitude that is within military or civilian service does not count towards the time needed for citizenship in the event the accused is not a citizen.
During servitude the accused retains any rights, standings, or property they previously held (besides what might be forfeited to pay a fine) but must obey all reasonable requests by the victim in service of their duty. Failure to do so requires a re-evaluation of sentence by the presiding authority over the original case.

Rights of all:
The First Right
All people have a right to live and work within Restov regardless of race so long as they obey the Council’s law including direct orders by the council and their subordinates. Any interference with this right is to be considered by law the crime of theft (removal of ones ability to live and work is akin to stealing their wages).

The Second Right
All people have a right to speak their minds and gather in public or in private as they see fit, so long as they obey the Council’s law including direct orders by the council and their subordinates. Any interference with this right is to be considered treason.

The Third Right
All people have the right to bear grievances in open meetings(schedule of which will be no less then 8 hours once a week in the capital) of the Low Council, which if deemed appropriate by Low Council members will be dealt with or brought before the High Council. Any intervention with this right is to be considered treason (preventing members of the kingdom, even freemen, from bearing their grievances before the Low Council harms the kingdom on a fundamental level). This right extends to any freeman or citizen wishing to bring a grievance against a Low or High Council member.

The Fourth Right
All people have the right to basic property, even freemen. A man’s home and his possessions may not be taken without the authority of law. A landholder has the right to evict a freeman but must pay the freeman a fair value of any home that must be left behind. Any eviction gains precedence over other cases in being brought as a grievance before the low council.

The Fifth Right
All people have the right to bring crimes to the attention of Wardens/Marshals for investigation. If in the course of that investigation officers of the Council's Law determine a crime has been committed, the office of the Councilor will determine further action. Interference with this right is to be considered treason under the Council's Law.

The Sixth Right
All people have the right to bear grievance against another individual in the form of juris macto. Both parties must agree to the duel and both parties must have a second to represent their interests. There must also be a Council Magistrate and a neutral witness to the events. The seconds meet and decide the terms and time/location of the duel. All duels must happen on public land.
The seconds must agree to weapons for the duel and the means of conclusion (wounding, death, submission, first blood, incapacitation etc). Once agreed upon these options are presented to the witness and the duelers. If the seconds cannot come to terms they can request arbitration by one of the Council Magistrates.
Anyone can in fact reject a duel, though they may be considered a coward if they do. None are held responsible for harm done to an opponent in the course of a duel.
In a duel to the death, any individual who cheats or deceives the Magistrate automatically forfeits both the duel and life. A champion may stand in the stead of the challenged, though the champion must be presented in a timely fashion. If, in the course of the duel, the champion is defeated (ie: killed) the life of the challenged is also forfeit.

In Restov

Well, they certainly know how to throw a party in Restov...

Arriving in the city on the 4th of Rova, we were welcomed by a contingent from Lord Jamandi Aldori, the reigning Sword Lord. Not sure exactly how he knew we were coming, but nonetheless, the group of young lords led us directly to the Sword Lord's castle where we were greeted by none other than Lord Aldori himself.

What an honor...and get this, we were to stay at the castle and take "full advantage" of his hospitality. You should have seen how puffed up Durvil got. As if he knew all along how important we were. Heh, I myself hold see no advantages to being "important". As long as there's enough money in your purse for a round of beer, you've got all you need.

Speaking of which, I did. So I decided to Seelah to the bar where I grew up and learned the way of Cayden Caileen. She was duly impressed, as expected.

Afterwards we met Elsbeth at an upscale clothier, where we commissioned suitable apparel for the party at Lord Jamandi's the following night. I'm not sure what got into our companion, but she paid for the entire thing. And looked stunning in the final product.

The evening before the party we had the distinct pleasure of meeting the other adventuring parties that had been hired to explore the southern lands. They ranged in experience from...well us, to very experienced (The Iron Council, whom by the way had a pair of very comely twins named Lidka and Irena). From small in numbers (us again) to horde-sized (Varnling Host).

It seemed that all the groups that had been sent south to explore had been gathered here for some sort of announcement. At least that is what I assumed.

And I wasn't far off in my guess. The next night's shindig proved quite opulent. Guests of all stripes were present, from the many adventurers to dignitaries and wealthy merchants. Daughters were on display...apparently this was deemed rich hunting grounds for available and well turned bachelors. Hrmph. Can't say I approve of that much. But in general it's not often that I understand what the upper class considers proper.

Not only was the party for us, but also for the King of Pitax, one Castroci Irovetti was in attendance as well, negotiating a peace settlement. So as you can imagine we were in good company.

Ha! Durvil's older brother was also there. Imagine Durvil's surprise. Seems they don't get along all that well. Durvil left home in quite a hurry and his brother doesn't agree with his methods. At least they could agree to disagree. Ah, sibling rivalry. Wish I knew what that was like.

We met a wide assortment of characters, amongst them were the following:

• Zivel Rotisel - a priest of Gorum and a member of the Iron Council
• Rodom Vena - a fighter by trade and member of the Iron Council
• Lidka and her sister Irena (whom I might have mentioned...) also members of the Iron Council
• Miret Velvason - a roguish sort and member of the Iron Council as well (warned us of the black dragon Ithuliak...now in the Slough)
• Zada Varn - The 18 y/o daughter of Megar Varn (single and quite pretty, as her father will vociferously point out)
• Lord Mayor Joseph Selmius
• Hanhs Drelev - An adventurer in the Slough(?)
• Willis Gunderson - A lore seeker as well as a wizard (told us of Rattison's Treatise...a book of summoning spells that was taken by Keal Garn)
• Belfor Vitanis - An aristocrat
• Theoric - Ix's instructor at the academy (Tasks Ix with finding a Dryad's tear and bringing it to Elga Veriax...whom he claims that we'll run into. Whatever)
• Satinder Morn - A priestess of Calistria (Funny to watch Elsbeth bristle at this woman...apparently there's no love lost w/in the clergy there.)
• Harris Drelev - An adventurer who founded Fort Drelev...how droll
• Harley Medvyed - Ah yes...Harley. We've run into this one before and he's NOT to be trusted. He cornered Durvil and said this, "You'll be handed the keys to the kingdom." And that he reserved the rights to a certain place. As if we OWED the man! Absurd. But I feel as if he has some type of hold over Durvil. I'm not sure what it is. I do know that Harley is some type of lycanthrope, a dangerous creature that must be taken very seriously. I'm not sure what he's up to, but I fear we'll cross paths with him again.
• Terriah Numesti - An associate of Harley's
• Berethran Stroom - A merchant
• Pareta - His daughter
• Grald - I met him...but I don't remember much about him. (I was christening the establishment you know)
• Shah Gelnarn - In the negotiations w/ King Irrovetti

Near the end of the evening we were asked to meet w/ Lord Aldori. For what purpose? I figured it was to report in person and possibly to receive or next set of marching orders. Turns out I was only partially correct. We were granted a Barony! Yes, if you can believe it, we are now "Barons". In name only at the moment though.

We keep what we can hold. In other words, it is by sheer will, strength of arms, and carefully made treaties that we will carve out our land. I propose to name it Free Beer....This way we can attract a hearty tax base. Ah I jest. But we do indeed need to come up w/ a name for our hatchling barony.

As we were in the Lord's office though, all hell broke loose. We could hear excited shouting from out in the main room as we emerged...and surmised that some merchants were attacked and nearly killed in one of the tower rooms, by gargoyles of all things! It's hard to imagine a beast like that "sneaking" into a room from a crowded party.

But I will admit, most of the festivities had moved over to the bar, which is natural. And as the night grows older it is quite common for those interested in imbibing Cayden's blessings to go just a tad too far in their appreciation. I completely understand that and heartily support it...but it was unfortunate never the less.

The attack was concerted and had a target: Zada Varn. Why? I do not pretend to understand, but the action might have been meant to disrupt the peace proceedings in the next room. Who would do this? War profiteers possibly? Again, I'm at a loss.

As one might imagine, Megar was quite beside himself, but came around when we told him that we were on the job and would return his daughter safely. Leaving the brute slightly mollified we tracked the beasts from the room whence they had kidnapped Zada, down the stairs and through a hidden door behind the wine racks.

Eventually this dumped out into the sewers. Why always the sewers? I'm not at all keen on those incredibly smelly, slimy, dark tunnels. We used them as children on occasion, but never willingly.

It was here that we stumbled upon some type of ferocious fecal dweller, what Ix called an Otyugh. Tentacles, teeth and horny ridges were all that were visible of this loathsome beast. Laying into us it pulled many of us into the viscous stew and nearly crushed the life from yours truly! But in the end we prevailed. And continued our pursuit of fair damsel in distress.

Eventually the trail led to an exit where the sewage fell 50' to the river below. And what do we see but a small boat pulled up to the shore and Zada being loaded into the bottom. We shouted to the sell swords below, but to no avail. They cursed us and laughed at our predicament.

Which was about to get much worse.

Three of the repugnant gargoyles swooped upon from on high, surprising us and making descent decidedly more difficult. Taking a cue from Elsbeth, I too leapt down into the river below, hoping the water was deep enough to arrest my deathly plummet. Indeed it was.

The frantic battle was joined and we were ill pressed to win past the gargoyles before the sailors had Zada ensconced and set sail. Durvil fought one on one above with one of the gargoyles while the other two kept us quite busy below. Unfortunately Seelah was trapped in an awkward position and couldn't effectively help the entire party. And her help was sorely missed.

Elsbeth nearly succumbed to the reaper twice, while Ix was also very close to leaving this mortal coil as well. But some quick thinking got us past the ill-begotten creatures just in time to make for the boat.

I swam under the water (luckily the current was with me, for I'm not the worlds strongest swimmer) to the leeward side of the boat and once there, I pulled in one of the sailors. Jumping aboard I fought with the other, eventually throwing him overboard as well. Soon we had won the Varnling's daughter free....

And I'm sure shall be well rewarded. Eh?

We shall see, for that is a story for next time.

26th Arodus - To Restov

We've decided after all to take the Sword Lords up on their invitation and travel to Restov. It will take us 5 days, so we pack 6 days of food, gather lists from both Svetlana as well as Oleg, sharpen weapons (wits in my case) and saddle up.

The first few day's journey east is relatively easy. We meet travelers along the road and are warned that south of the Shrike river is centaur territory...so beware.

Our first night's stay is quite a push, as we are intending to lodge in safety at Fort Serenko. It is a small fort situated at the confluence of the Shrike and Kiravoy rivers, but is well apportioned and manned to guard the road to Restov. Run by Captain Alric and 20 regulars...although there are a few from the northern territories that are obvious "outsiders" with the majority of the men. It must be some kind of territorial dispute thing, I'm not certain.

The next few days see us in Nivatka's Crossing. A small town whose largest landmark is the bridge across the Shrike river. It is there that we run into a wee bit of trouble. As we entered the town there was a small mob of people gathered at one end of the bridge impeding the progress of what appeared to be a merchant's wagon being pulled by a centaur! Led by an elf, the small group was verbally accosting the choice of draft animals and threatening violence.

In turn the merchant, who was none other than Keal-garn Garas, self appointed sorcerer supreme, was threatening violence in return. And I was not certain that his type of violence would be much more destructive in scale, as he did not seem to me a moral person at all. In fact, I did not like him one iota. As proof of his malicious intent he had ensorcelled these nasty little creatures called spriggans as guardians. And like him, they were obviously intent on mischief.

The centaur had a spell of some potency cast upon him...According to Ix, and it was this that was allowing the wizard to guide this sentient creature and use him as a beast of burden. Despicable. None of our group were thrilled with the situation so we tried to adjudicate it.

In the end, we realized that power trumps nearly everything else...We gave two of our horses for the centaur Anakaris' freedom. Handing him over to the elf Malooki, we allowed Keal-garn Garas to pass w/out further trouble and stayed the night at the Inn for a reasonable 2sp / person.

The next day we spotted mammoth crossing the Shrike but beyond that the rest of our journey was w/out trouble.

14th of Arodus

It is our third day back at Oleg's outpost and what would you know, but a contingent of brothers of Caiden Kaileen have arrived unannounced! Can you imagine? I am overjoyed...to speak hops, barley, malt, etc. w/ knowledgeable individuals (other than Ix, who's more of a scholar than a brewer). I was in heaven, so to speak.

Leading wagons and carts this contingent of monks were heading north of Littletown for a trip to a special temple...or so I imagine. The abbot, one Montalv, was a little close-mouthed about their true intent, but I did make friends with Rialdo, the master of ceremonies as well as the strange little man (a halfling, so they say) named Nori the Red. As a "gardener" he had loads of knowledge about the growing side of brewing, and I learned a lot in terms of planting and growing my own barley and hops for a "remote temple".

We had an excellent time overall with the monks, and I think that my compatriots were able to see how our order operates. I was sad to see them go, and I can't say that I wasn't at least a little tempted to go with them. I do miss the temple life, and while I just love this adventuring life, my brewing skills are atrophying. I must set up an operation soon.

Oleg seems to think that we should go back and speak with the Sword Lords after we've completed our charter. I suppose he's right. The rest of our group is on the fence though, I'm not sure what we're going to do. But nevertheless, that decision doesn't have to be made for a while yet. After looking at our map, we have nearly 1/2 of our charter to discover.

We set out with 14 days of food, our intent was to head into the areas that we have yet to explore. Yes, we're back at it again. Finally.

A few days into our journey we come across what I had thought to be a stone cairn of some type, maybe an ancient burial mound. But lo, it turns out to be some type of a house. And guess what? Inside we discover the symbol of Gyrona! This goddess must surely have had a very strong following in this area. But why? I can not fathom how a religion would survive for long out in this desolate area. I do have to remember though, that it has not always been this way.

Inside this structure we find a skeleton nailed to the wall with over 100 nails! The hackles on the back of my neck instantly rise. Elsbeth enters, as she is a keen eyed trap sleuth who can deactivate all but the most magical of traps. As she enters though the temperature drops drastically and she appears to "fight" something. Winning, she turns to us and warns to keep back, this place is protected by a powerful magical ward.

After checking the inside she determines that besides the "haunting", the place is relatively safe. My hackles are still up though... As we enter a vision comes to us: A young woman is being nailed to the wall by an older woman. She is being told that she has failed and that even though she is loved by this older woman, she is now Gyrona's." Harsh punishment indeed.

We release the skeleton and there is a visible drop of the tension in the air. I think that we have successfully set the spirit free.

I am exhausted now...This trial has been especially troubling. I will rest now, and write more later.

Letter to the Stag Lords

Esteemed Benefactors,

We have explored as per our charter and in doing so, have encountered the vile miscreant known as the Stag Lord. We have nullified this threat and feel that his forces are either killed or dispersed. Due to its excellent location, we would suggest that this fort might make a fine trading post. It would need renovations in order to become serviceable, so we would suggest that you send a fore of soldiers and engineers to both secure and fix this edifice.

The undead have infested the area surrounding the ruins and the inclusion of a cleric would be recommended. We will continue to explore as per our charter. Also, as a point of interest, the Stag Lord's father, on Nughah, who is a priest of nature, is currently at large.

Yours in Arms,

- The Search and Destroyers

Stage Dressing (After the Stag Lord)

Durvil and Lothar heaved the massive stone to the side, and it tipped over with a heavy thud. Staring at them accusingly from what had been the underside was a carved, lidless eyeball, perfectly round and bloodshot throughout. Below where the stone had been set, a ruined stairway descended into the darkness, cobwebs drifting in the stale air.

“What do you think it was watching?” Elsbeth asked, indicating the massive eye.

Durvil glanced back from where he knelt, peering down the stairs. “Funny girl, when she wants to be,” he said to no one in particular. “I’m more interested in what old Staggy might have been hiding down here. Shall we?”

Lothar smiled and took a swig from his flagon. “Of course,” he said, stepping forward into the stairs. Holding his torch aloft, he watched the flame carefully. No breeze from below, so no other opening, then. Carefully, making room for Elsbeth beside him, he descended. Every now and then he would pause to let Elsbeth study the stairs and walls, waiting for her to give him the signal that it was safe to proceed. At the bottom, the stairwell opened up into a large chamber. The air was miserably damp, and greasy swaths of mold caked the carved stone walls and floor. Fifteen feet above, the ceiling was thick with cobwebs. Three archways in the walls opened into other rooms. Spread throughout were mounds of crates, furs, sacks, weapons, and other obviously stolen loot, making line of sight difficult to maintain.

Spreading out, Lothar, Ixilplith and Elsbeth checked each entrance, leaving Selah and Durvil at the stairs. It was apparent that Durvil didn’t trust the situation, and wanted to be sure nothing slipped up or down the stairs without him knowing. A quick look through each arch revealed more of the same: stacks of stolen goods. The far reaches of each room ended in piles of rubble, as though the collapsing tower above echoed its fall to ruin below. The archways all had carving along their lengths, odd symbols and markings, with the staring eye at the apex of each.

“What does the eye mean?” Ixilplith asked, stepping underneath one arch and peering closely at it.

Selah smiled at his curiosity. “Staring so closely at it won’t prod your memory, Ix. It’ll come to you eventually.” She frowned slightly. “But it does seem like something I’ve seen before. I just don’t recall where.”

A whistle from Elsbeth brought Ixilplith and Lothar to her from their investigations. Pointing, she indicated a pile of furs and blankets mounded in a dryer corner of one room. Surrounding it were small effects including a crock of water, a packet of pulled jerky, discarded bones, and a stylized circlet of stone leaves. “Who do you suppose was using this?” Ixilplith asked.

Lothar felt his skin crawl. “Someone the Stag Lord didn’t like, that’s for sure.” Looking around at all the crates, sacks and packs, a thought occurred to him. “Although, it seems more like he was locking a prized possession away than any prisoner.”

“And we still don’t know where he is,” Elsbeth whispered quietly, peering down one aisle of crates. She thought she saw a little movement in the corner. Motioning for Lothar and Ixilplith to follow, she tried to keep the conversation light and raised her voice so Selah and Durvil could hear. “These boys were busy, weren’t they?”

“Looks it,” Durvil agreed loudly. “But it looks like they never actually did anything with it. These were some poor bandits, who stole so much and never sold any of their ill-gotten gains.”

“Good that the Stag Lord is dead, then,” Lothar commented, stepping to the side of Elsbeth. She was right; there was definitely movement within the rubble of the collapsed corner. “If all he ever did was make everyone miserable, then I say good riddance.”

In front of Durvil and Selah, a piece of the wall separated itself from the stonework and stepped out into the room. Fascinated, Durvil watched as the form coalesced from stone to man. His face was broken and shattered, his eyes crooked below his brow. One ear was massively swollen, looking as though it had been beaten so often that it was forever malformed into a head of cauliflower. Through crooked and missing teeth, the old man hissed, “That boy was my son. If you are responsible for his death, then you will answer to me.”

At the same time, the rubble before Elsbeth exploded into motion as a carpet of roiling fur detached from the shadows, rushing forward and engulfing everything in its path. The chittering, squealing mass of rats was anything but innocent, myriad red eyes focused on the trio before it with ravenous purpose.

After the Stag Lord's Defeat

I am writing this to report the odd, and I mean ODD, things that we've found in this fort.

First off, the Stag Lord: After removing his mask we find that he's horribly disfigured. As if he'd been beaten nearly to death from the first day he set foot on this earth. I suppose that would be enough to make a man mean...crazy and mean. And that's exactly what the Stag Lord was...Crazy first, mean as a close second.

We have also stumbled across clues that point to Elsbeth's phantom menace having shacked up with the Stag Lord's boys. He was masquerading as a priest of Erastul and had been here not more than a couple of days before us. A small cot and a hidden shrine to some unknown demon...His most current alias, we think, is Father Avery.

Now the treasure that the Stag Lord was hoarding was quite a find. Stored in three chests we appropriated the following loot:

1. 2 magical draughts of curing (cure mod)


2. An ensorsceled suit of leather armor (+1)


3. 14 magical arrows (+1)


4. His stag-horned helm ('Dead Eye', increases hearing, called shot, eyesight)


5. Green Wrist Charm of Fae manufacture


6. 3 odd leather masks


7. Bolts of Cloth


8. Empty scroll cases


9. Gold (good for buying supplies for beer making)


10. Pewter buckle of what Ix calls a 'Succubi' ... she's cute, but she gives me the creeps too


11. Silver charm bracelet


12. A silver ring

*NOTE TO SELF: Remind me to ask Elsbeth what took her so darned long in that room...

Ah, you're probably wondering about our "prisoners" right? Well, we let most of them go free. Unfortunately our new friend who can't speak, is not only mute, but bloodthirsty as well. All of those "sleeping" guards were summarily executed by him. Maybe they deserved it? Maybe they didn't....I'm not judge nor jury. Although I know that it's part of our charter, it's not a role I'm comfortable in. Not like Durvil or Elsbeth...Luckily for me, I'm not really needed in that capacity.

It gets stranger though...our mute friend is someone that knows me. Yes! From my days as a child in the city. He was one of the street urchins that ran in the same circles as my brother and myself. From the little that I recall, he was a "protector" of those of us that were too weak to defend ourselves. But one day he just up and disappeared. Rumor has it that he beat up the wrong person, was prosecuted and sent to prison. Turned out he ran...and here's where he ended up.

Unfortunately for him. But I do remember that at his core, he was a good soul. And I trust that still. He's single minded at this point though...killing Dovan is his one and only aim in life at this point.

The other "bandit" left alive was the black-clad man who, when we attacked, was sitting in the corner sharpening his sword. His name as it turns out is Aikiros. And get this, he was a fallen paladin of Iomedae! His was a tragic story of misplaced love. He loved a woman who somehow ended up w/ the "wrong" man...I'm not certain of the details here...But worse comes to worse and he kills a man. Running, or hanging, were his only options.

So here he ended up. Another lost soul sucked into the Stag Lord's pit of depravity. But yet again, he's got a kernel of goodness somewhere deep within. Selah is certain of it...and I trust her intuition as well. So he remains free. Durvil is not so certain, and is keeping a very close eye on our two new friends.

While we were cleaning up, I decided to take a walk around our new surroundings and in doing so, stumbled across another hidden trap door. Granted, I didn't just stumble across it, I was actually looking. For I surmised that if this edifice was indeed a chapel or fallen church of some type, it would make sense that the monks had some type of cellar in which to keep supplies.

I notified the others immediately, and Elsbeth came with me to check it out. We opened it up, and sure enough, it was some type of cellar. We retreated to fetch the others after checking the stairs down for traps.

As a group we decided that it would be best if we rested and checked on this cellar in the morning. So we did exactly that.

Next day we opened it back up again and went down. Darkness greeted us like an old friend... The chambers were stacked with old crates and boxes. But not really much more than that. After some careful searching though, Ix found some type of "nest" or bed maybe. Consisting of old rags and refuse, it was surrounded with scraps of food and bones. Someone had been kept down here, and fed! Deplorable! Just another sign of the Stag Lord's depravity.

Who might have stayed down here...and how did they escape? From all signs they'd been down here extremely recently. And the trap door hadn't been opened from the outside till we had done it. So where were the inhabitants?

I wandered around calling out that we would not hurt whomever had been kept in these conditions...That their captive, the Stag Lord was now dead and they were safe. Who knew? It wasn't the right thing to say. For a response was soon in coming.

As we were spread out searching the rooms, the far corner erupted in rats...a furry swarm, all teeth and beady red eyes poured forth from a pile of rubble. And at the same time, near the stairs, a form "emerged" from the wall. Emerged as if they were part of it in the first place! Magic of a high degree I'm certain.

The figure we faced was as beaten as the Stag Lord had been, and horribly disfigured. And it rasped out, "If you've killed my boy, we've got words!" Oh shit...so this is his FATHER!?! Yet another sign of one hell of a messed up family situation.

What a fiasco. I shall write more later...if there is a later that is.

The Stag Lord's Fort

Standing outside the Stag Lord's fort we all called into question the prophecy. As we peered into the sky and saw no clouds we began to wonder if we were in the right place at the right time. And Durvil, our constant conscience, was the most vocal of the lot. Although, I can't say I was necessarily in disagreement.

That fort was one foreboding looking domicile. And knowing that one of the nastiest bandits lords in these parts resided within, it made it that much more so.

And we were going to be breaking into it. I also called into question our sanity. Why?

Why were we breaking into this place? Well, logic told us that we were here, and the trip was not a minor one to undertake. So if we were here already, we might as well use our time wisely and scout the place out. For future efforts I suppose.

So Elsbeth and I crept towards the structure. The log palisade appeared to be laid upon the foundations of an ancient stone building of some type. It came to mind that it was possibly an old church or fort, what with all the dead surrounding it, that only seemed logical. Especially when you consider that the dead are all wearing robes of some sort. Hmmm...something to ponder for later I suppose.

The far northern side seemed to be the weak point, as the stone wall was lowest there, and the guards seemed to avoid that area. A sharp drop off to the lake below protected that flank, so the defenders most likely thought it safe from an attack. But it was not an attack we were interested in.

Making our way around the side of the fort was not much of an issue. We used the landscape and the failing light to our advantage and skirted the steep slopes, headed for the low wall. It was just then that I stumbled across what seemed a "hollow" section of ground.

Stopping immediately I called Elsbeth back and we found what appeared to be a forgotten trap door, grown over with foliage and the soil of ages, it lay hidden to most eyes. It was by Caiden's luck that I had stumbled across it.

We had heard rumors of a secret passage that had led from the ancient building...but we had discounted them as exactly that, rumors. But lo and behold, they proved true. Opening it, we found that it led directly towards the palisade. So far luck was on our side...all we needed now was a storm!

As we turned to make our way back to report our fortune to the rest of the group, Elsbeth's keen eyes picked out a path leading down to the edge of the lake. It was cunningly hidden from sight. One had to be nearly directly on top of it to be able to even see it... Luck again was on our side.

We marked it and made our way down, then reported to the group as planned.

It seemed that our plans had been made for us...As a storm quickly rolled in to seal the deal. It was certain. This was our night.

Navigating our way back in the dark was not a problem, and the heavens smiled upon us as we approached the trapdoor, rain began to cascade down around us. Blocking sight and sound.

The tunnel's exit lay just under the stairs on the outside of the current stone walls. As we clambered out we found that we needed to make our way atop the walls and around to the room wherein we had heard, from the guards atop the tower (one Stitcher and Ayles), that the Stag Lord was currently residing. This was our target. If we could get in quietly and make our way around to the Stag Lord and take him by surprise, we might have a chance.

A couple of well placed sleep spells and we were half way around the fort by the time we hit our first snag. I should have known, this was going much too easily.

Taking shelter under one of the ruined floors, near the Stag Lord's room, a cadre of bandits huddled around a fire. We had run out of sleep spells and our only alternative lay in drawing them out to take them on singly or in pairs if we could. Two of us snuck atop the ruined wall while the others positioned themselves outside.

Our troubles started right about at that time. Elsbeth and I, the climbers, stumbled upon a couple of unseen guards atop the wall. One thin man and his massive friend, Ox. Seeing us, they naturally raised the alarm and all hell broke loose.

Ox came charging after Elsbeth and me. I laid down a bit of a surprise for him on a slippery section of walkway, with some extra oil that I generally carry. He tumbled down and landed at Durvils feet with a thump.

The others charged us while the leader and a crony worked on opening some type of gate in the back of the room. I had heard that this group had some sort of owl bear pet....or some such. I was not particularly eager to meet one again, so we made an attempt to scatter them. To no avail. The gate creaked open a crack, and with a roar, the ugly brute charged out. Bandits scattered every which way and this thing bee-lined directly for us.

Joy of joys...another feathered horror had descended upon us. Beaky, the last owlbear we had fought, had nearly laid us low, and this one appeared to be yet again larger! We knew we'd be in trouble. And guess what? We were...

Claws and beak rended left and right bringing two of us low while Durvil struggled to control the massive man known as Ox. Our saving grace was Seelah. I can NOT say enough about that witch. And I don't mean that in an offensive way...She saved us time and again with her well placed healing and spells.

Oddly enough, as the melee raged, we found an ally. The thin man that had been sitting with Ox up above asked about the bandit Dovan. We told him that he was safe in Restov. And that seemed to mollify him as he dropped Elsbeth a magical drought of healing. He also plied his bow in our favor. Stranger things have happened you know.

Ix and Elsbeth tried to keep the owlbear at bay while the rest of us fought back and forth. Right about then, at the most inopportune moment, the back door slammed open, and guess who emerged? Yes, not a tough guess: The Stag Lord. The shit storm just got worse.

Luck was with us though, he was drunk as a skunk and couldn't hit much with that massive bow of his. Eventually the owlbear succumbed to our blows and hit the deck with a thud. The black-clad man was scared into the pen, where he was locked away by Seelah and the Elsbeth slays the Stag Lord! Just as Ox falls to the frantic attacks of Durvil.

It was foreordained. But I'll tell you this...I'm not sure I'm going to throw all my belief behind such things again. It was a close thing. A VERY close thing.

As I write, I raise a toast to Caiden Caileen...thank you for watching over the joyful chaos of melee, and for guiding my hand.

More later...

Stage Dressing (Back to the River Kingdoms)

Destiny was left in excellent position.

The army of charua-ka was shattered by the defeat of their Anghazhan champion, and retreated into the jungle from whence they came. For several days, not a single sighting of the bestial ape-men was reported by the watchers on the tower gate. When one was spotted by a group of outriders, it kept its distance, merely watching as the patrol went about its task. When the men pulled the massive head of the Anghazhan from under the tarp that concealed it upon the wagon, the charua-ka hooted in fear and scampered back into the trees. After mounting the head on a pile of stones at the top of the trail leading down to the valley, the patrol returned to the palisade, and from that point on the archeological site was left in peace.

Raimondo was sent back to Bloodcove, and a second shipment of goods arrived within two ten days, accompanied by tonics and potions from Rulkep. With the rope and tools the shipment brought, repair on the palisade walls and the destroyed tower was able to be completed. A note from the Pathfinder Society promised that representatives would make the journey shortly to verify the find, and Destiny’s place in the Chronicles was assured. It also warned of increased interest from the Aspis Consortium, stating very plainly that the group of “adventurers” that had passed through Bloodcove recently was being actively hunted. There was a strong suggestion that the group makes itself scarce or it would face a foe beyond their scope that was interested in exacting a price from their skins. Reimbursement for the rescue they enacted was also provided.

Captain Colgardie seemed to have found that note amusing, and in the true spirit of the mercenary ways of the Aspis Consortium, offered you a way off of Azlant Ridge. His price: he wanted to accompany his benefactors back to the lands they spoke so much about, as he felt the “earning potential” in that area was significantly better than that offered by the jungles of the Mwangi. Besides, he had a dagger that needed to be returned to its owner some day, and if the owner insisted on returning to these “Stolen Lands,” it seemed only right that Colgardie follow.

He led you northwest, on an arduous journey through the Terwa Uplands and to the small coastal town of Port Peril, a smuggler’s cove with strong ties to the Shackles Pirates. There, he had no trouble securing passage on a ship bound for the Inner Sea. It seemed Alizandru Kovack, the captain of the Jenivere, owed Colgardie a favor, and passage for seven people and their horses exonerated him of his debt. After a stop in Ilizmagorti, the Jenivere made call on the port of Corentyn at the far southwest edge of Cheliax. There, the sight of the Arch of Aroden, the broken span that once linked the continents of Avistan and Garund, was as awe inspiring as any sight could be. From Corentyn, you made your way east to the famed shipyard of Cassomir in Taldor, at the mouth of the Sellen River, the largest watershed on Avistan.

Beyond Taldor’s borders, where you followed the Sellen River north, the rough and tumble ways of the River Kingdoms held sway. Here, so long as you held to the River Freedoms, you were left to yourself. There were six freedoms in all, listed here from least to most grave:

Say What You Will, I Live Free. Riverton, on the shore of the Kallas Lake, embodies this law. Ruled by a Theocracy devoted to Hanspur, the river god, these people cared not for the oppression of the “empires” of the south. In the River Kingdoms, they were able to speak their minds, regardless of how demented their minds might be. For the right price, however, the inhabitants of Riverton made excellent pilots for the myriad twists and turns of the Sellen Riverways, pilots who knew how to keep their questions to themselves.

Oathbreakers Die. Hymbria, on the banks of the East Sellen River, is inhabited by elves. Nowhere did it become plainer that keeping one’s oath in the River Kingdoms was a matter of life and death, not just one of honor.

Walk Any Road, Float Any River. Ordinarily, the words of this law are interpreted to mean merely that no toll may be enforced to travel the rivers and roads of the kingdoms, but that doesn’t mean that safety is implicit, even from the lord of the land. Liberthane, on the edge of the Embeth Forest, was an obvious anomaly among the River Kingdoms. Its ruler, Achille Parsall, truly believes in this law, protecting the people of his small kingdom with a fervor bordering on zealotry.

Courts are for Kings. In Nystra, buried within the forest to the east of the Sellen River, it is said that the rulers of the land were wont to play cruel games with their citizens. Within the River Kingdoms, that was their prerogative, as courts are for kings, not the common man. But Nystra was a perfect example of what happens when even a king goes too far. The strong rule in the River Kingdoms, and now Nystra stands silent tribute to the violence that can be the result of pushing the wrong person too far.

Slavery is an Abomination. Some say that nearly a third of River Kingdoms inhabitants are escaped slaves or the descendants of escaped slaves. Even more people narrowly avoided slavery to flee to the Kingdoms. The Swordlords of Mivon are one such group. Two hundred years ago they fled the onslaught of Choral the Conqueror, making their way south from Rostland past the Narlmarches to escape what they considered slavery to a madman and his dragon minions. For two hundred years they have remained entrenched in their new home, practicing the Aldori Dueling form and, some say, perfecting it beyond even that of the Swordlords of Restov. Don’t insult anyone in Mivon, lest you find yourself called to duel in the Sevier.

From Mivon, instead of making your way northeast toward Restov, you are forced to circle west, up through the swamps of the Hooktongue Slough, an unpleasant journey in winter months. In days past, you could have just traveled up the Little Sellen River to the Shrike, crossed through Candlemere and the Tuskwater, and from there traveled overland until reaching the South Rostland Road at Oleg’s, where you could then make your way to Restov with no worries. However, You Have What You Hold in the River Kingdoms, and bandits – and worse – still hold sway in the Kamelands, regardless of your accomplishments.

Which makes what you did during midsummer of 4708 that much more important…

You remember approaching the bandit fort from the north. It was situated on a hillock above the Tuskwater, looking out over a commanding view of that lake at the mouth of the Shrike River. A narrow path wound up the hillside approaching the fort, a full 300 feet from the woods’ edge to the gate in the wooden palisade. Fifteen feet high, consisting of logs and sharpened stakes, the wall looks to be a recent addition to the hilltop. Within, you can see the crumbling remains of stone buildings. One roof seems to have collapsed entirely, and the remnants of a stairway rise up out of it, leading nowhere. Wooden towers have been constructed on the shell of the old ruins, three that you can see, all roofed over against the elements. In the tower next to the gate, you can see a man watching the road. He isn’t paying much attention, it seems, as the dead that surround the fort are a far better deterrent than the arrows of this lone sentry.

But you know the pass phrase: By the bloody bones of Saint Gilmorg. The dead are supposed to let you by if you utter that phrase. And you put it to the test…

Azlant Ridge...The End

The battle had begun...and we were quite literally in the middle of it this time. Hell, aren't we 'always' in the middle of it?

The Charua-ka had attacked, and they had summoned their great demonic ape champion. This thing was a creature to behold. Nearly 20' tall, the monster was able to pull trees out by the roots and hurl them like a child throwing sticks.

By this time we had penetrated quite far into the ancient complex, to find a strange stone plinth. Carved with odd symbols it glowed rhythmically and had some type of niche holding a strange globe of sorts.

Elsbeth, ever the careful one (yeah, right), carefully made her way into the room and checked over the strange artifact. With no apparent way to interact with the plinth, we couldn't figure out a way in which to free the "stone" globe. For stone is what we believed the thing to be made of...although it certainly did have very odd properties, like the strange glow for instance.

After some very careful observation, and no small amount of hemming and hawing by Ix, Elsbeth found that the globe was held in place by a set of pincers. And lo and behold, Ix had a magical spell prepared that cast a sheen of grease upon the pincers...and it was then an easy task to tug it free.

As this was taking place, I was checking the walls, which were covered ceiling to floor with glyphs and writing of some sort. Near the back wall though I found a very strange pattern, not unlike the one of the front doors. The same pattern that destiny manipulated in order to pass through the stone portals. And wonder of wonders, as soon as Elsbeth pulled the key free, the pattern changed! But it was not until later that I was to figure out why...

Worse came to worse for the defenders and Durvil, seeing the carnage that the Charua-ka had wrought, hustled back in to elicit ou aid...and post haste I might add. Somehow I ended up with the key..and it occurred to me that the key had been glowing like that great big sphere outside. Maybe there was some type of connection.

So as we emerged into the chaotic press, that's where I headed immediately.

The champion of the Charua-ka broke through the barrier like a bull through reeds. On it came, bellowing and swatting the defenders left and right. Durvil, ever the brave fool, took a stand, called out the name of "Otterson!" at the top of his lungs and charged the monster with a leveled lance. The short of it was; It didn't go well. He was swatted aside and left for dead. But as we all know, Durvil is one stubborn son of a bitch. He wasn't about to die easily.

Approaching the glowing sphere is when things got weird for me. One instant I was standing amidst screaming men and monkeys: The next, I was peering down at a stone floor from on high. A moment of confusion reigned, but I soon figured out that I was back in that strange tomb / museum. So I moved to leave immediately to help my friends. What sort of witchcraft I had befallen, I did not know. But I needed to get out to my comrades quickly. And that's when I noticed that not only was my point of observation, or my sight, skewed, but my arms and legs felt strange.

In fact, my whole body felt extremely odd! I tried to recall how much, and of what I had drunk. No, that wasn't it. I looked down and saw that I was made of Iron! Truly and amazing thing!!!

But still, the need called: My friends were out there being slaughtered by that giant gorilla creature.

I emerged into the sunlight and the monkey beast spied me immediately. It bellowed out a massive challenge and charged to meet me. I did the same of course...I was after all a massive iron titan of fable! Sure I couldn't move as gracefully, but I made up for that in sheer size and bulk. I was heavy!! And IRON!

The fight erupted, and even though I couldn't physically feel pain, I realized right away that this monster was no pushover. Even though it was "flesh and blood" it was demonically infused...And fought as such: Like a demon. I tore away at my new iron body, and nearly had me, but in the end, those massive iron fists won out, and the creature crashed to the ground, defeated.

And with that, the Charua-ka melted away into the jungles like the morning mist with the rising of the sun. We had won the day!

Days later and we were cleaned up and ready for travel. Our new "companion", Captain Colgardie agreed to put aside his duel with Durvil for another day and pursue more lucrative concerns in the north.

And with that we set off, back north to further adventure!

Stage Dressing (Into the Steaming Jungles)

The roar of the battle above was loud enough to filter down into the still air of the crypt. Standing silently, the two massive iron sentinels peered impassively at the stairs that led outside. Small dust motes spilled down a hallway that led deeper into the cliff, stirred up by another battle, this one more quiet and containing the desperate quality that only a fight with ravenous undead could bring about.

When the last ghoul fell to his blade, Durvil stepped forward and crouched at the entrance to the next room, peering into the gloom. Nothing else moved. Behind him, Selah saw to each of the party, being sure that they were unharmed and weren’t touched by the disease the undead carried. Ix, of course, was peering at the wall markings he had been meaning to look at before being so rudely interrupted.

“How long have they been down here?” Durvil asked, more to break the silence than anything else. Hearing the battle above, he wanted nothing more than to finish this and get back to his sister’s side. But Selah needed a little time to do her work, and rushing alone into the darkness was not a wise tactic.

“Judging by the look of this place,” Ixilplith replied, running his fingers along the runes, “about 6,000 years.” Stopping on one of the patterns, he cocked his head to one side, as if recalling something. “This looks similar to the mark the Taldan military uses to denote their watch posts. It’s the only thing I recognize, though.”

“Six thousand years?” Lothar asked. “That’s a long time to be on watch.”

“It would explain why they were so mindless,” Selah suggested. “Usually the undead are more cunning than these were. Ghouls are created when the living die from starvation. If they then went without…food…for that long, even ghouls would succumb to their own variety of insanity.”

“There are some traces of transmutation magic left in this alcove,” Ix said. Tracing it along the wall and onto the floor, he frowned, rubbing his fingers through the dust. “Some sort of powdered gemstone. Emerald?” Looking more closely, his eyebrows rose. “And ruby. Along with something else. This was an incredibly powerful spell.”

“Study later, Ix,” Durvil interrupted. “Right now we have to figure out what’s down here.” He grinned. “Destiny awaits.”

As if prompted, an earth shattering roar sounded from the surface, echoing through the chambers. All around the group, the runes on the walls began to glow with a faint, ghostly light.

Into the Steaming Jungle (part 5)

I'm not sure how much I like the jungle...

I mean, there are a LOT of dangerous things out here. Sure, there are dangerous things everywhere, but here you don't see them until they're nearly on top of you. Oh, and the insects? Let me tell you about the insects. Imagine the abyss...and being trapped there, naked. Without a weapon. Now add intense heat and horrible teeny tiny little demons that you can't actually see. They bite you..all the time. And there's no getting away from them. That's what the insects are like. Seriously.

Luckily for me I'm a follower of Caiden Caileen and he's provided us w/ a natural anesthesia: Beer and Wine! But that's pretty much an answer for nearly any problem I've come across. Nearly. Not all.

There we were, being led through the jungles by Raimondo. At the base of the cliffs he stops us and prepares us for the climb. And this is when our witch captive decides to break free. Sigh. We of course have two choices, let her go free and starve, and get eaten alive out here in this endless green abyss. Or go after her and humanely save her. Sure. We're altruistic like that.

After her we go...And right into an ambush. That's what you get for trying to be humane. No more of that. Seems the Aspis had caught up to us after all. They had planned this well, and the witch led us right into the middle of it. But, we were up to the task and took the fight to the Consortium toadies. Back and forth through the underbrush and along the vine festooned paths we struggle with the villains. It was a very close thing...and to be truthful, I'm not sure who was going to win.

Luckily for us, no one had to stick around to find out. Our little soiree was interrupted by the Anghazani. What, you might ask, are the Anghazani? Well, to put it bluntly, they're a highly evolved ape-like creature that's capable of arming themselves w/ weapons, and wearing armor. They're still primitive, but they're dangerous in the extreme.

Seeing that the situation was suddenly more than we could handle, we skedaddled. And on the way out we warned the captain of the Aspis. He too decided that it was time to vacate the premises immediately. We had an advantage, Raimondo had avoided the fight and had been driving our caravan up the cliff this entire time. So we quickly caught up and made the gates of the "fort" much before the Aspis Consortium.

Here's a moral dilemma for you: Let our enemies in, or turn them away, to be horribly dismembered by hundreds of angry ape creatures? What would they do? Right, we'll do the opposite. That's exactly what we did. Opened the gates and let them in.

Inside we find what's left of Durvil sister's forces. Not much. They're basically scarecrows manning walls. It has been more than three months since their last supply shipment. What on Golarion have they been eating? Honestly, I shudder to imagine.

So after a quick agreement by the captain of the Aspis we man the walls. And hear an enormously loud, bestial scream come from beyond the plateau. Ruthazec! The king of gorillas... I look around at the meager walls and the even more meager defenders and again...I shudder. We might be in trouble. But the defenders honestly don't look all that worried. And the piles of ape bodies outside stand grim testament to their ability to defend these walls. OK, I'm a bit more mollified.

Durvil's sister, Destiny, meets us and more importantly greets Durvil in a very frosty manner. Ah the politics of wealth. I'll never understand. Which is fine by me. Seems there was some type of misunderstanding and after a quick explanation by Durvil, Destiny is a little more reasonable. She shows us around the dig site and tells us that if she can get through the set of doors in the cliff-side, she'd be wealthy beyond belief. If.

And that's when she asked Durvil for the key. Oh yes....they key. Apparently their father knew that the key was a very special thing, and ended up incorporating it in the hilt of their family's long sword. Clever, if you ask me. When Durvil presented the key, Destiny's eyes quite literally lit up.

We waited the night, since it was late in the afternoon when we arrived anyway. Each of us selecting a spot w/in the camp that we thought was as secure as it could be; considering that the Aspis consortium was inside, while the Anghazani were beating their chests and making the relics inside the dig site glow in all sorts of strange ways. Not sure how or why that was occurring, but I AM sure that Ix was quite perplexed.

After a long night of studying the existing documents, Destiny had figured out how the key opened the door. The ape people hadn't let up all night, which might make you think that we didn't get any sleep, but it's not true. Even leaning up against the door all night long, I felt rested and ready to proceed.

It didn't take long for Destiny to figure things out and placing the key onto the door in just the correct way, the strange portal opened. To reveal a large room in which two massive shapes loomed in the shadows beyond. It was exactly at this time that the Anghazani decided to attack. An ill omen? Time will tell, I'm sure.

Accompanied by the frenzied screaming of the ape people and the hustle and shouts of the defenders, we slowly descended into the darkness of the newly revealed chamber. The shapes turned out to be large metal statues of some type. According to Ix though these statues at one time had the gift of movement. A scary thing indeed. I for one would not fancy being trapped by one, no less two. of these enormous iron creatures!

Selah, ever observant, noticed that this place looked more like a museum of types than anything else. After a short exploration of the Golems, for that's what Ix had called the iron statues, and their room, we proceeded down the hall. Only to run smack into the undead!

These six creatures were frantic and as chaotic as I've ever seen. They had not a whit of intelligent motive behind their actions, attacking solely because it was in their nature. Mindless frenzy is what it was. And we quickly put it down.

With the sound of battle outside as our companion we moved further into the ancient edifice.

To be continued...

Stage Dressing (Into the Steaming Jungles)

“We are still being followed.” Scevola pointed back along the ridge where the river disappeared into the canopy of trees below them. A flight of white birds had just exploded up out of those same trees, and monkeys were chattering fiercely in an effort to drive an intruder from their territory. Far less activity had been raised a few hours before when their own caravan had passed through that area. Whatever force was moving through there now must be large, indeed.

Xaenja barked out a harsh laugh. She was tied in place on the driving seat next to Scevola, and glared bitterly at the group around her. “I am far from the only Consortium vulture looking to pick at your bones. I was simply not foolish enough to be duped by your ruse.”

“Hush, witch,” Elsbeth muttered, “or I shall leave your carcass to distract them with.”

“Enough,” Scevola cut in. “They are only four hours behind us, and they have the advantage of not being slowed by wagons loaded down with goods. Out here you obey my rules, and I say ride! Ride as though your lives depend on it, and be happy with the four hours sleep you got the last few nights. Tonight you will get less!” He snapped his reins and whistled shrilly, and his two horse team leaped into motion.

The pace Raimondo Scevola had set from the beginning was one that kept people from doing anything other than concentrating on following him. Now he seemed to drive his team to an even greater speed, one that seemed near suicidal, considering the state of the trail they were following. The two other carts and pack horses that made up the caravan matched him, and the adventurers had no option but to fall in line behind. They were five days northwest of Bloodcove, days of dusty, dirty running and riding as the scoundrel whipped his horses and wagon drivers to go ever faster and deeper into the night. To his credit, the scoundrel seemed a changed man within the vastness of the jungle. Gone was the drunkenness and sniveling, replaced instead by a hard edge that brooked no argument and accepted no excuse. The only time he slowed the pace was to check the horses and be sure that they were still capable of maintaining the push to Azlant Ridge. He was always the last to bed down, and always the first to rise.

Late the next morning, coming out of the forest canopy atop another in a long series of rises that marched their way into the Terwa Uplands, Scevola paused again. Ahead, the most imposing ridge yet cut above the trees, a sheer cliff draped with green and dripping with the runoff of hundreds of tiny rivulets. The valley between echoed with the calls of birds, animals and insects. Only the ever present chatter of monkeys that seemed to permeate every other part of the jungle was missing, a decidedly odd counterpoint to what the group was used to. As Scevola checked over each of his horses, he periodically glanced back the way they had come, looking for the tell tale signs of pursuit. When he finished with the last horse, he stood for a long time, staring over the valley behind them.

“They may have finally given up,” he said at last, throwing a grin at his employers. “Come. We are close. Your destination is at the top of that cliff, backed up against the next rise. We will be in view of it by nightfall. You may even have a proper bed tonight.”

Durvil Otterson

Otterson

The Otterson family holdings lay inside Restov within the lands of Lord Stinfelt. There is a small village and several farms attached to the Stone Villas holdings. Rents and harvests provide a minimal income with the bulk going to Lord Stinfelt. The Ottersons wealth has traditionally come from rewards and ransoms during war time. But due to Dragut Ottersons age and lack of recent conflicts that wealth has been dwindling.

Dragut Otterson Lord Knight of the Villa in Restov sired three children with his wife the Lady Trinity. The first born was Destiny Otterson. A strong willed child that would accept no suitor and has since left home and now follows her passion of exploring and revealing the pasts secrets. Dudley Otterson, the eldest son currently holds position as High Squire under Lord Stinfelt's care. Durvil Otterson, the youngest son also once held the position of Squire under Lord Stinfelt. It is Durvil Otterson's story we will tell here;

Throughout Durvil's childhood he had little to want. He grew up like all boys born to landed Nobles. He learned the ways of the courts, his letters, and the class structures. He excelled at the sword, mastered the horse and even could fire the bow. He had more than enough to eat, lived in the largest house for a days walk and had servants to fill his life with ease. His parents were held in high regard by nobles and villagers alike. At fourteen years he was sent to join his brother (who is 2 years his elder) in the service of Lord Stinfelt at the castle. Here he was to end his intellectual training and begin his War studies.

Here again he excelled, besting all the other squires in the horse and most in the sword. Durvil even bested his elder brother and salted the victory with boasting. These next few years would sorely change Durvil's and his families life. Durvil became bored with his squire duties. The other squires were too dull with all there talks of chivalry and honor. Durvil could best all of them and he doubted that any would live long enough to experience either of these. Despite his brothers and Sword masters warnings he began running with the town boys. He never got into too much trouble, just drunkenness, fighting and the occasional upset town girl who perhaps was not as interested in Durvils advances as he thought she should be. All of these minor offenses could be easily settled outside the courts with minor bribes and payments to the afflicted.

However, the families finances were taking a big hit. With Destiny's refusal to marry, and two sons to buy armor,weapons and those most expensive horses for, the Otterson horde was shrinking. Durvils petty offenses began adding up, and no one could make him stop. As with all spiraling out of control youth, Durvil would finally come crashing down. Lord Stinfelt's daughter soon caught Durvils' eye. A few walks in the gardens and the young Mistress Stinfelt was the next foe Durvil bested. However, as with all things Durvil quickly became bored and left the girl crying to her father. Now, laying with your fathers Lord's Daughter is not a minor offense easily forgiven. Lord Stinfelt's own son challenged Durvil in protection of his sisters honor and a dual was set. But fortunatelyyy for all involved, Dragut Otterson intervened and settled with Lord Stinfelt before the dual could be fought. The Ottersons would pay a guild price that would leave them near destitute. All the farms and the village rents would be deeded back to Lord Stinfelt, and Durvil would be stripped of his Squire rank and be sent to serve penance however the sword lords deemed fit.

Secret History:
It was discovered by Durvil himself, as a youth, that the Otterson name was not always that. Old parchments discovered in his fathers rooms indicated that Generations before the family was known as Uttersen. A name held by one of the 300 knights that rode with Choral the Conqueror.

Into the Steaming Jungles (Part 4)

After celebrating Lura's defeat, Sela, Ix, Elsbeth and Durvil decide to return to the Horses Whistle to deliver Senzers Medicines. Brother Lothar has been somehow lost amid all the drinking and celebration. But before leaving Elsbeth and strangely, Ixlpleth insist on removing anything of value from fat Lura's corpse. To both Sela and Durvils disgust the woman is rolled over and over and a couple of potions a wand and a big feather reveal themselves. Additionally a finely crafted chain mail mu mu and morning star are stripped from her and now a bloated naked woman lies in the belly of the Sanguine Pit. Sela converses with Rethald and to everyones good fortune she collects a 1000gp purse as her portion of the wagers made against her. Perhaps the Sanguine Pit is not such a bad place after all, I wonder what “Piggy” could make us?

The return to the Horses Whistle comes with yet more disappointment. Senzer is overjoyed with the delivery of the Ghost Wort, but sadly can not deliver on his end of the bargain for several days. He can provide a small portion of the requested tonics and tinctures in a days time but the rest must be delayed.

It was decided that Rold (the inn's owner) and the “Fruit Guy” will spread the word that we have departed the town one day earlier than we planned. Hopefully confusing any interested parties, while we complete the supply order from House Cartahanand visit the Pathfinder Society.

The next day, A very hung over Lothar is sent with Ronoldo to prepare the pack animals. A quick stop over at House Cartehegn assuresthe supplies will be delivered. The original price was reduced by 50% and the 1000gp from Selma’s winning along with 100gp from the “5” settles our debt and the Pathfinder house is next on the agenda.

The Pathfinders hall is actually a tiny hut staffed by a single woman named Maleka Phin. With little time for cover-ups or deception the “5” layout their plans and request any help Maleka can offer. She repeats Destiny Ottersons story about finding a map of the Aslant Ruins and a cave in the middle of a cliff in the middle of the jungle. That she needs a “key” to open the door, and is now being besieged by the Silverback King .(Rutherzak?) Or was it Angazhan ruler of Asaraq who established a dimensional anchor? Durvil finds it hard to pay attention for very long. Fortunatelyyy after all the important but boring details were told, Maleka helps us identify the treasures from Lura and confirms she can have a fast rider deliver the remaining mixtures from Senzer to us in route.

The horses are ready and supplies are packed at 2pm that afternoon and it is decided we should put as much distance between us and the Aspis Consotium as possible. With a final check of ropes and harnesses Ronoldo and the party prepare to leave when Ix decides to start flirting with a sultry woman who hopes to delay us. In an instant those silver tongued taunts erupt in incantations of Webs and Ix has blocked the woman’s progress. As is to be expected this woman did not come alone. Several more charge in after Sela and Dervil while more vixens rise from the rooftops to fire crossbows into the fray.

This fight was one for bards. The “5” or “4” this time, as Lother was still recovering in the back of a fish wagon, where ready for once.

Completely oblivious to the crossbow bolts raining down from the rooftops, Ixilplith laid into the Sultry leader with huge balls of tumbling fire. Elsbeth deftly maneuvered below a pair on the rooftop and went after them with whip to pull them down. After Sela provided a nice boon to the parties moral she moved in to cover Elsbeth. Leaving room for Durvil and Chiseler to ride down two that would follow her. Before most around the caravan even knew what was happing the sultry leader lie unconscious with Ixilpliths hands in her britches pulling scrolls and wands from who knows where. The remaining ladies scrambled away. And Durvil orders everyone to “Move Out!”

Elsbeth wants desperately to get something out of this exchange and tries searching the three remaining bodies as the horses carts and wagons roll away. I don't know what she found, but perhaps some new fineries will drape the half-elf’s body soon?

Loot collected from Lura's body

* 1 potion of invisibility (given to Sela)
* 1 potion of cure light wounds
* 1 wand of Reduce Person with 9 charges left
* 1 feather token (Conjure Magic Whip) 1 charge (PHB 513)
* 1 +1 Chain mail Mu Mu
* 1 masterwork morning star


Loot collected from Ixilpliths Lady

* 1 wand of Inflict Moderate Wounds with 11 charges (2d8+3)
* 2 scrolls
* 1 short spear
* 1 spell component pouch

Stage Dressing (Into the Steaming Jungles)

With a sickly thud, Lura’s immense bulk crashed to the floor. On the edge of awareness everyone could only just hear what sounded like an unearthly scream that was cut off as Bellu instantly disappeared back to whatever imagination Lura had created her from. What followed was complete silence as the entire bar’s patronage stared at the group in shock.

Jumping on top of his counter, the bartender flung his arms in the air. “In honor of my promotion to Owner of The Sanguine Pit, drinks are on the house!”

The bar erupted in shouts. Drinks were shouted for and received as promptly as the pressured staff could deliver. Already new wagers were being placed, and money changed hands with a pace that was almost furious. Elsbeth thought she heard someone offer twenty to one odds that “the elf woman” couldn’t defeat “Piggy” straight up. She briefly considered taking them up on it, but instead turned and joined her companions at the bar. If Lura was *not* the one called “Piggy,” she didn’t want anything to do with the person who did hold that nickname.

Durvil reached across the bar and grabbed the bartender as he rushed by, stopping him short. “Hey!” he shouted over the din. When he had the bartender’s attention he waved back at where a couple of toughs were dragging Lura’s bulk toward the open door. “Seeing as we’re the ones who won you your promotion, I think you owe us a favor.”

“Hah! Of course, of course,” the bartender laughed. “Anything for this evening’s champions. My friends call me Retheld. What can I do for you?”

“A drug.”

Retheld barked another laugh. “How much? And what variety?”

“A specific drug,” Lothar clarified. “The one your old boss was holding over Senzer Rulkep’s head to get him to work. The one that cures his son.”

Frowning momentarily, Retheld’s joviality waned in the face of this request. “Right. She keeps that one in the safe. I’ll be right back.” He broke away from the group, immediately transforming back into a jovial bartender as he grabbed up mugs and delivered freshly topped ones to his waiting patrons. Snatching a woman from the end of the bar, he planted her behind it and gestured up and down its length. With a quick nod, she dove into her new task. The fact that each drink was served from the same tap made things easy, at least, and she set about serving each person at the bar as Retheld disappeared into the door on the back wall. When he returned, he carried a small package wrapped in soft leather and twine. “This is what you’re looking for. Lura bought every ounce of it left in Bloodcove, and told all the herbalists that if they brought more into the city she’d kill them. I don’t think they ever knew what it was for, and no one was ever willing to cross her. Well, until you all came along.”

“Speaking of which,” Elsbeth cut in, “how long do we have before someone comes looking for her?”

Retheld shrugged. “Depends on whether she owes someone higher up any money. Could be a couple days, could be a couple hours. No matter what, she’ll have to check in with Captain Xaenja the day after tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll come around the next morning, after Lura doesn’t show up.” He grinned. “That’s when my promotion will be made official.”

“And she won’t care that Lura’s dead?” Selah asked, incredulous.

“Oh, she’ll care. Business has to come first, though, and that’s where I’ll come in. What she wants to do about you folk is up to her. I have nothing to do with it. Lura didn’t owe me any money, after all.”

“Baffling,” Durvil exclaimed. “You’re saying this woman’s existence was based solely on the money she paid people.”

“Well,” Retheld smiled, “that’s one way to look at it, I suppose. But she made a lot of people a lot of money. I only get the bar. The other stuff she did I know nothing about. Those people will be right pissed, I imagine, and they’ll come looking for you to get a bit of it back.”

“Oh! I know what this is!” Everyone turned toward Ixilplith, where he had the package open and one of the leaves held up before him. “Mosto di malto phantasma.” He looked around at everyone. “Ghost wort.”

After a long pause, Durvil stood up off his bar stool. “Right, then. Let’s get out of here and get this wart stuff back to Sensay.”