After some final preparations (acquiring additional equipment
like blood charms and so on) we met with the Shining Light
Trading Company which was ready to leave Throal.
Our journey would lead us from Bartertown along the Alidar River
to Syrtis, with a ferry across the Serpent River and then north
on the old Theran Road to Haven/Parlainth.
Jasper the Wanderer, the owner of the Caravan, introduced us to
the regular crew and the other Adepts who were hired as guards
and then we set off. The guards were separated into five groups,
one for each wagon. I joined Lessa (one of the regular crew), a
Human Archer with a Targeting Eye, Thaddeus, a thin Human in
crystal ringlet armor, Quinton, another Human armed with a bola
and Goldar, an Elf in glistening ring mail. I, of all people, was
chosen as the driver, mainly because I was the spellcaster of the
group and from the top of the wagon you had a pretty good view
and a clear line of sight on any target (which would come in
handy later).
The first three days of our trek lead us through the outskirts
of Throal and then alongside the Alidar River to the East. We
were on a busy trading route and it was pretty quiet.
Except for a duel Eryk fought with Sharisha, a Human
Swordmistress (!) and lost, of course, nothing out of the
ordinary happened.
Our caravan was moving East, the Alida River to the North of
us, when suddenly a huge herd (about 20) of tall, long-legged
birds with long necks came charging from the South, running
alongside the caravan and breathing a strange, curiously
well-smelling orange mist at us. A hectic fight ensued. A few
guards, including Blackmane, I believe, were being paralyzed by
this orange mist. As I was sitting in the driver's seat on the
second wagon, I was safe and could cast a number of spells
against the birds. Jasper swung his huge axe and let it fly. It
changed to a huge bolt of lightning and literally fried one of
the birds. After it had hit, the axe reappeared in Jasper's
hands. A masterpiece of a Thread Weapon!
Fortunately, most of the birds fled when they were hit hard and
after a short time, it was all over.
The birds had attacked some of the people who had been paralyzed
with their big and sharp beaks, though. They had suffered head
wounds but nothing a good night's rest and a swig from a potion
couldn't fix.
We moved on until nightfall without any incident.
It was later that night, shortly after I had finished my watch
and had fallen asleep, when I heard Nevkin's cries. I had just
gotten out of my bedroll when my tent suddenly swarmed with
Krilworms!
There so many of them that I couldn't move. The nocturnal
creatures knocked me to the ground and a few managed to bite me.
I was literally pinned to the ground, I couldn't even concentrate
on casting a spell. Just as I prepared to go to the Other Side, a
mighty blast of air blew the Krilworms and the tent away. I
gasped for air and struggled to my feet. There was a flattened
area around me and towards the center of the camp. Andrea stood
there, arms raised. An Air spell, no doubt. She obviously
remembered some nice tricks.
The Krilworms had caused quite a few nasty injuries (my little
poison vial was in heavy use) and even one death: Valarius the
Bold, a Troll Cavalryman. Now he wasn't that bold anymore ...
We gave him a decent burial, that is, burning anyway. May his
Spirit be more successful than he was in Life.
On the next day, we made good progress and nothing bothered us.
The road led towards toward mountains in the distance and when
we came closer we could make out a dark hole in the mountainside.
A tunnel!
Jasper halted the Caravan and warned us of the band of Ogres, who
had attacked the Caravan regularly at the other end of the
tunnel. We were to give them no chance of reaching the Caravan
and steal any of our valuable goods. Fine by me, I had some
spells in mind that would make them scream. On top of that,
Andrea cast a protection spell on everyone, a ward against wooden
weapons. As the Ogres were generally wielding wooden clubs, this
was a wise precaution.
We entered the tunnel which was completely dark. The Traders
had given up on installing light quartzes because these had been
stolen soon after.
I shifted my sight to the Astral Plane and was able to make out
some strange markings in the tunnel walls, some sort of magical
residue. When I showed the phenomenon to companions who were able
to see astral patterns, nobody could tell what they were.
While my sight was still astrally sensitive, I noticed that
Julius had an extremely intricate pattern which meant that he was
either a rather advanced Adept or very old. Also his apron and
his sword were clearly pattern items.
We were about halfway through the tunnel when somebody cried out. Things were shooting out of the tunnel walls and the ceiling and back into the earth on the other side: Small creatures with scaly hide and bumpy tails, Earth Q'rils, as we later learned. There was no way of stopping them, so we spurred on our horses and made our way through the tunnel as quickly as possible.
As soon as the first two wagons had cleared the tunnel they
started to sink into the ground! Quicksand! As the wagon is was
steering stopped so suddenly, I couldn't hold on, was thrown off
and started to sink into the ground as well.
Not only that, but there were the Ogres who had been waiting for
us, chucking rocks at the caravan from behind cover. A big rock
hit me in the head and I almost lost consciousness. I tried to
get out of the sand but only sank in deeper. I was down to the
belly, unable to move or cast spells, as the spells which would
have accomplished anything in this situation required some sort
of gestures or movement on my part. So I had to watch.
Julius came out of the tunnel, touched the ground and a bridge
formed out of thin air, spanning the quicksand area. Julius was a
questor of Upandal!. The others, who weren't stuck in sand, ran
onto the bridge to stop the band of ogres who came charging down.
A short, but hectic fight ensued.
Meanwhile Devlin, the young wizard, touched the quicksand and
dispelled the magical effect. Suddenly the earth was normal
again, and we were free.
The Ogres, put off by their useless attacks (their clubs warped
as soon as they hit) and the quicksand dispelled, fled.
While we rested and repaired the wagons, Nevkin scouted the area and found the Ogres' camp, but not much of value.
When the most important repairs were done, we travelled on and made camp at nightfall. Around the campfire the usual storytelling and discussions began, this time, Julius and Goldar, the Elf Warrior, were debating over the taxes in Throal, Julius clearly in favor of them and praising their advantages.
In the morning, we had just left our camp, a flock of Chakta birds joined a caravan. They stayed with us for most of the day, chatting with their telepathic abilities and warning us of Wyverns they had seen.
On the evening of the next day, we saw Wyverns in the sky in the distance.
At a bridge across a tributary to the river we had been
following, a group of shady characters camped. First they looked
like to be trouble, but the size of our well-armed group put them
off. Eryk couldn't resist teasing them, but the only swore and
cursed.
At camp this night, I was on watch, I heard rustling in the
bushes and sneaked off to investigate. There they were, the
bandits from the bridge, discussing whether they should attack
the camp. The Fog Ghost I summoned into their midst quickly
discouraged them from carrying out their plan. We haven't seen
them since.
After a few days without meeting anybody, today we came
through a few villages where we took the opportunity to do some
trading for fresh supplies.
Later, at nightcamp, Quinton and Goldar had a fight. I hadn't
really paid attention, so I don't know what it was about.
The day's journey was uneventful and we made good progress.
After nightfall during the first watch, we noticed a strange light in the distance, like a group of people carrying torches. Goldar and Quinton, who had apparently buried the hatchet, B'ok and myself set off to investigate. There was clearly an astral presence. We came closer and it was a lizard, about 4 feet long with big glowing eyes like lanterns. Quinton went ashly white and put his hands on Goldar's shoulders. Goldar jerks into the light and instantly catches fire. A Basilisk. We immediately turned on our heels back to the camp. B'ok called to wake the camp, the Basilisk following her. There spells and arrow were fired and the Basilisk probably thought that there too many people to fry so he turned and scuttled off.
[OOC: As I've been extremely busy over the last few weeks, the next section will be shorter - especially creature encounters and fights - than usual. Apologies.]
Apart from a breakfast interrupted by two Wyverns fighting an Espagra in the Skies, which came down to our camp to involve us as well (it was a bit hectic but nothing to worry about), this day and the next two days went by uneventfully.
As we came closer to the Great River, more and more people
were on the road. Along the river, there was a white paved path
which glowed in the dark, a T'skrang pilgrimage route, as we
learned later.
We finally reached the Serpent and a ferry was waiting to bring
the caravan to Syrtis, a City carved out of the rock. Our ferry
moved through the main entrance into a huge cavern, the largest
outside Throal, as we were told. The pride of Syrtis, an immense
Dreadnought was anchored there. Against that, any attack from the
river seemed futile.
A reception committee of 20 Royal Throal Guards and a group of
T'skrang (red carpet and everything) was awaiting our arrival at
the dock. The ferry was moored and the people on land called out
for the King. And Julius stepped forward! We had been travelling
with King Varulus! The King had come to see the Prophetess and
had chosen our caravan as a means of transport, disguised as a
simple craftsman. He was welcomed by the Queen and Prince Needen.
Even Merrox, the Master of the Great Library, was there. So the
bones I had cast at the beginning of our journey didn't lie.
We helped unloading the ferry and moved all supplies meant for Syrtis into the Trading Company's warehouse. After that we were free to go and rest for today and the next.
While I spent the next day meditating, the others went out to
explore the City.
Towards evening, I just had finished meditating over my talents,
I had a vision (the rest of the group told me later that they
experienced the same): A group of adventurers was coming down the
pilgrimige route. When they were closer, I saw it was us, but
changed slightly. Everybody seemed older, except for Andrea,
our Elf. Blackmane had an eyepatch, B'ok wore no Blood Pebbles
anymore but an odd rune-covered plate mail, clearly made for a
T'skrang, as about a third of the tail was also covered in
plates. Eryk had a broadsword instead of his spear, my robes were
more elaborately embroidered and a streak of my hair and beard
was white. Nevkin looked rather unchanged. The last
image I saw was Icewing in the sky, which turned out to be a
strange formation of the clouds.
Curious what the vision meant, I cast my bones to find out more.
The images I got were those of Horrors, struggle, knowledge,
death, hardship, all influenced by Dragons. In the center, the
image for the Netherworlds appeared.
Later that evening, a group arrived from the South, the
direction we would go next. To our surprise, one of them was
Davis, a Human Archer from Sky's Edge. They told us about a group
of about 50 Ork Scorchers who had set up camp along the road.
We've also heard of attacks on caravans and people travelling on
the road.
As a result, Jasper decided that the Winds of Freedom
would scout ahead to Tansardia (our next destination) and back to
evaluate the dangers lying ahead.
In the morning we took a small ferry to the riverbank. Also on
the boat were a group of 10 unusually quiet T'skrang, clad in
dark robes, obviously pilgrims.
We reached Tansardia before noon without incident. The small town
was surrounded by a 50ft wide and rather deep moat spanned by a
bridge which was warded against Horrors. Most of the population
was dwarves, many of them spellcasters. Here at Tansardia one of
the most daring building projects was attempted: a bridge
spanning the Serpent. If, how and when this could be accomplished
nobody knew exactly.
We travelled on until evening and rested.
B'ok was on watch, when it suddenly went utterly dark, in moving
sphere-shaped areas and we were attacked. B'ok cried an alarm and
we woke up. My eyes had just adjusted to the Ethereal Darkness,
because that's what it was, when three T'skrang in black robes
with silver embroidery attacked me. I was unable to cast a
defensive spell in time and was knocked down, unconsicous,
bleeding from two gaping sword wounds.
When I woke up, the attackers had either been killed, had killed
themselves or had fled. We had one prisoner though, who wouldn't
speak. We decided to interrogate him in the morning but by then,
he was dead. He had swallowed his own tongue.
We examined their robes and came to the conclusion that the
attackers had been members of the Keys of Death, a
secret society sworn to bring Death back into the world by
killing as many name-givers as they could.
Around noon we saw the smoke from a campfire on a hill
overlooking the whole area, including the road. Nevkin went
scouting and soon reported half a dozen orks sitting there,
apparantely waiting and - of all activities - playing cards. He
also mentioned their strange astral pattern that had something
added to it. An enchantment, a permanent magical effect perhaps?
In the meantime I had created a Blood Servitor and sent
it over to the orks and as far as I could towards the big
Scorcher camp in the far distance.
As we had found what we were supposed to find, we went back to the caravan who had already left Syrtis. There, Jon the Illusionist took me and Blackmane on his flying carpet back to Syrtis, because we had suffered wounds from that nightly fight. Shortly before we arrived he made us believe that we were falling off the carpet. I quickly realized what was going on and sensed the illusion, but Blackmane fell to his death - at least in his mind, that is.
Later we again scouted ahead and it all went wrong.
We were supposed to watch the outpost, as we called the orks,
when our carvan approached to see what they were doing.
Something went wrong, I can't remember, because everything
happened so quickly, and when the caravan approached the
outpost-Orks jumped on their horses and gallopped away into the
distance. Nevkin came calling "The Caravan is coming"
but we already knew from the Orks' reaction. The Orks split up
and so did we. As we didn't have fast enough mounts, Nevkin sprinted
after the first two and I followed him as fast as I could. It was
amazing. Nevkin ran after the Orks gallopping away, reached them
and fought them and their horses with his axe. He managed to fell
the first Ork's horse and knock him down, follow the other one
and best him with the last of his strength. The other was getting
to his feet but by then I was already in range for an Astral
Spear, my farthest reaching spell.
Meanwhile the others had used Andrea's Throne of Air to
pursue the other Scorchers. We looted the bodies and found some
Theran coins. Also, Andrea said that the Orks had been speaking
with a Theran accent. Therans that far in the West?
The following days we continued to scout ahead of the caravan and report back, if there was any danger. At the point where an attack by the Scorchers was likely, the caravan was disguised by Illusion to look like a few dwarves with 4 carts. We weren't attacked, so that had worked.
To days later we came across burnt marks across the road, into the underbrush and at the riverbank. We soon discovered what was responsible: A group of Saurals had their nest there. Those large lizards drip acid whereever they go and are strong enough to kill a Brithain, which we had seen with our own eyes. But as we didn't show any sign of hostility, they went back sunning themselves at the riverbank.
Towards noon, we reached the end, or rather the beginning, of
the river we had been following. In a wide green area the waters
from a waterfall collected in a pool which was the source of the
river, willow trees grew near the water
At the bank of the pool there was a wooden hut, the side facing
the waterfall open, a place of worship for Lochost, as we
assumed.
As we we coming closer, a swarm of about fist-sized fluffy white
creatures - I shall call them fuzzballs until I know what they
are - came out of the willows and towards us. I looked into
Astral Space and saw that the area was completely free of
corruption, the willow trees were definitely magical in nature
and were linked to the hut. The fuzzballs, though, were
completely black as if they were sucking all magical energy from
their surroundings. Maybe it was the area was so pure and my
concentration that high, I could even feel the emotions of the
people around me: from the creatures I felt curiosity,
contentment from Blackmane, Shock from Nevkin, Wonderment from
Andrea and Weariness from B'ok.
I warned my companions not to fight the creatures and not to cast
spells or use talents, which I think was a wise measure. The
fuzzballs landed on us. Suddenly, voices and images from the past
rushed through our minds. Then they took off, back to the
waterfall. Only a single fuzzball has been staying with us since.
We waited for the caravan to arrive, took on fresh water and continued our journey.
At breakfast, the fuzzball seemed to annoy York. He took his axe and swung at it. That was his mistake. The fuzzball shot a solid beam of light at him which knocked him unconscious, smoke literally coming out of his ears. He's survived and has never complained since.
Toward dusk, a huge creature blocked our way, 9 feet tall at
the shoulder, bull-like 4 foot horns and a body covered in metal
scales. A Gorgon, as we later learned. In the ensuing fight, it
breathed a green smoke at us which completely petrified Eryk and
caused Nevkin, Blackmane and me some discomfort. Andrea shot an
impressive fireball at the creature which seemed to ignore it. We
managed to kill it in the end, although our physical fighters had
problems penetrating that metallic hide.
With Nevkin's help, I extracted the contents of the creature's
stomach, the acid and a white powder. After some research, I
hoped, these would come in handy or maybe even act as ingredients
for a new spell.
Over the next days, wildlife in the area seemed to disappear,
especially smaller creatures and fewer birds could be heard. Some
trees had huge clawmarks and holes in the trunk as if bitten or
hacked out, some were felled.We found the partly devoured
carcasses of a few Molgrims, big predatory creatures. What could
have slain such powerful creatures?
Quinton had heard stories of a huge cat, a Skeorx, fearsome
predatory creatures with barbed tails and extensive hunting
grounds.
A couple of days later, we found the body of a strange
creature. About 5 1/2 feet tall, furry, bipedal, with bushy
eyebrows. It wore a pouch with flint and steel in it and a club
with bony spikes. Nobody had seen any creature like that before.
Not even Quinton, the knowledgeable Troubadour, had heard stories
about them.
At night we had the intense feeling of being watched. Wild snarls
could be heard from a creature stalking the area.
We were even more careful and weary than before, the intense
feeling of being watched could not be resisted. The road now led
through the forest which was now pretty thick and dense.
Suddenly, a huge 10 ft cat jumped out of a tree, onto Andrea's
horse, breaking its neck in the process and took off with Andrea.
A Skeorx. We took after it, Nevkin sprinting in front, but we
were too late. Andrea was dead, a huge chunk ripped out of her
body. Nevkin and Blackmane hit the Skeorx hard and I managed to
cast a spell, and the creature shot off through the dense forest.
Nevkin tried to sprint after it but soon lost it.
With Andrea gone, we had to recreate our group pattern which we
did in the evening after burning Andrea's remains and sharing her
possessions she wanted us to have.
Jasper, Ratan and Jon took off after the cat to hunt it down.
The wildlife around us seemed to come back, we obviously had
left the hunting grounds of the Skeorx.
Later, we came across a small camp where 3 figures were sitting
around the remains of the fire. The two Humans and the Ork had
been dead for a week. No clear explanation for their deaths could
be seen, they had no apparent wounds and seemed to have died on
the spot.
Curious, I sat down to prepare for a dangerous spell. I
concentrated on the departed spirit of one of the Humans and cast
my spell:
I was sitting at the fire with my two companions and three other people, a Human named Darrin, an Ork and a T'skrang. who we had met on the road. The human took a small chest covered in leather and said: "This is the biggest find we ever made. We're delivering this to Parlainth. Do you want to have a look?" He opened the chest and showed it to me. Inside was a strange dragon's scale covered in writing. Then I felt that other mind in my head ...
As soon as I felt the Horror not only touch that Human's mind
but my own, I struggled to keep it from entering my mind and
succeeded...
I told the others what I had experienced and warned them of those
people, should we ever meet them.
Jasper, Ratan, and Jon came back with the Skeorx's pelt. They looke pretty beaten but had finally managed to hunt the beast down and bring back the trophy.
The forest around us became more and more jungle-like and when we were on higher ground, we could see the ziggurats of Parlainth in the distance.
Later we heard the noises of a fight from the forest. We
investigated and saw a strange sight. On a clearing an about 8
1/2 feet tall bear-like creature on two legs swinging a huge
sword was being attacked by a group of those strange smaller
bears, of one we had found the body a few days before. The small
creatures were popping in and out of existence, reappearing at a
different spot every time. They were not invisible, as a look
into Astral Space soon revealed.
Four of those creatures had made their way to us invisible and
attacked us. While four of us were fighting the little beasts,
Nevkin and Blackmane wanted to help the big bear.
Unfortunately, when all was over, none of the bears lived to tell
us, who or what they were. We collected a few strange things like
oddly shaped coins with holes in the center nobody had ever seen.
We also inspected the big bear's sword which was, according to
B'ok, of exceptional and unknown craftsmanship. A multi-faceted
gem we had found fitted exactly in the pommel of the sword. B'ok
held the sword and I inserted the gem, when I had the
overwhelming desire to own the sword and so did B'ok. We
struggled for possession of the sword. I knew this was not right
and tried to will away the desire to take hold of the sword, in
vain. I just wanted to Frighten B'ok, when Nevkin removed the
gem, and the desire was gone. We decided to keep sword and gem
apart.
We continued on our journey and finally reached Haven two days later. We had been moving alongside the tall Parlainth wall for some time, which had been breached at several points. The area between the wall and the first building was filled hip-deep in bones and not only animal or name-giver bones, either.